Chapter: Then and now

Yeah, it goes on ... I just couldn't let the poor little one rot in my head any longer. He had to get out in the fresh air again, annoy people !! ^^
Soo, and if things are slow at the beginning - don't be surprised. At the beginning it is unfortunately mostly like this for me ... Whereby - actually also in the middle and at the end * g *
First of all - let's go!

*****

Gunpowder and blood. The smells that have always been with me - gunpowder and blood. The red liquid runs slowly but steadily out of the still warm body and I check with a light step on the wound whether the man is still alive. He doesn't respond - so he's dead.
I sigh a little frustrated and turn around. Damn it, I overdid it again. James won't be particularly fond of it.
Letting the revolver disappear under the shapelessness of my jacket, I step outside again. The cool night air hits me and clears my nose of the other smells that I have almost become used to.The earth crunches softly under my feet as I make my way home - a home that I will hopefully leave soon.
A little untypical for a professional killer, I live with my mother and my little brother. Half-brother, I improve myself in spirit, only half-brother.
In their eyes, I go to college - which I do - and the reason why I am often absent from the Ope house is because I learn oh so much in the library. It's almost funny how much they are convinced of my eagerness to learn.
But as I said - I'm a professional killer.
4 years already - a considerably long time, especially when you're as young as me.
Lost in thought, I pluck a small jackknife out of my pocket and use the blade to clean my fingernails, which are still covered with blood.
It all started with this knife, back then ...

Startled, I gasp, drop my hands and clasp them around the frame, my eyes tightly closed."Please," I silently plead, "please, let me forget again ... Give me back my eyes ... They are blue, damn it!" A single tear makes its way out of the corner of my eye and runs down my cheek unnoticed. Memories of old conversations sprout in me and immediately fade again: "If you knew what kind of person you were, you wouldn't say that, Orion", and then: "You enter a room and everyone is occupied by you, from your damn blue eyes ... "A soft sob slips from my lips as I think back to the person who once threw these sentences at me - my brother, my poor lonely brother, whom I killed with my own hands.
Like so many before him.
Broken I collapse and Eleonora behind me makes a startled sound and gently puts her hand on my shoulder. "Hey," she says softly, "what is it?"
Her touch bothers me and moves me at the same time - would she still be able to touch me, look at me, love me like that, if she knew what I would know?That she's still doing it now, still trying to connect with me, shakes me - the guilt must be so clearly on my face, the memory of everything I've ever done ... How can she love me so much? So unconditional and ardent?
By God, hissing through my head, I deserve it even less than the devil deserves a halo.
"I ... it ..." I swallow and force myself to open my eyes. My green-eyed reflection is blinking at me, the emerald-colored eyes sparkling almost happily, as if one part of my self wanted to mock the other part. I take a deep breath and lower my eyelids again before she can catch my eye. "It's okay," I then whisper weakly and sway up again, "it's just ... unfamiliar."
Her fingertips gently stroke my cheek and I can hardly bear the affection that lies in this small gesture. "I know," she says softly, and I can hear the encouraging smile without even seeing it - that unique smile that gives so much comfort and confidence.If she only knew what she's doing with it ... "I ... I think it's a bit ... different. But you're still you, aren't you?"
I dare not answer that. Am i still me Can I ever be who she met again - now that I know how I used to be?
"You hardly know me," I reply with a broken voice, and it's true - we actually only know each other a few days, even if she is now closer to me than anyone else in the last - unbelievably - in the last 40 years. But the thought that she could stop - that at some point she would no longer look at me with that look, no longer smile at me like that, just look at me with the disgust I deserved - it torments more than the memory itself don't know who I am. "
Her fingers twitch slightly, then she puts her palm on my cheek. "Open your eyes," she asks quietly, "and tell me."
Pain and hope fight inside me as I slowly lift my eyelids.I meet her gaze shyly - a look that couldn't have been more sincere. "Who are you?" she asks gently, and I unconsciously tense all my muscles. "You don't want to know," I declare firmly, take a step back and thus withdraw from her grasp. Not being able to feel the warming palm of your hand tears out a small piece of my soul and hits me more than any vampire could ever hit me.
She bites her lip in dismay and I might slap myself for the pain I caused her. But it's easier this way - for her and for me.
“Yes,” she says and looks at me directly, and I can see the stubbornness in her eyes, “I won't let you withdraw now! Not now, not like this!” She takes a step towards me and then stops again. “I suffered, Orion,” she reminds me quietly, “because of you.” She is silent for a moment and allows the words to burn into my mind."Do not deny me the insight into your world."
I look away and swallow dryly. Great, allegations. I was just missing that.
I look resolutely at her again. "Did you suffer?" I ask ironically, "Because of me? Good! Thank you! But I didn't ask you!"
Your face hardens. "What's wrong with you?" she asks urgently, "What's that with your eyes? Why are you acting like that, Orion?"
I close my eyes in resignation and sigh. "Not Orion," I then reply. "Ryan. Ryan Ope. My name is Ryan Ope, and when I was alive I had green eyes."