"I was going to save this for special occasions but I feel like this trumps them all," Christian says as he takes a flask out of his jacket pocket and hands me it.

I unscrew the lid and I take a large sip of the strong whiskey. We're sitting on the edge of the platform, our feet dangling freely as we try and find the courage to go back to the humans and tell them what happened. I don't feel ready to face them yet.

"It doesn't feel real," he says. "I keep expecting them to swoop over us."

I wipe my nose with the back of my hand, sniffling as I take another long sip of the alcohol. It burns my insides and leaves behind a horrible aftertaste but it somehow makes me feel better.

"And you didn't die," he says, gently banging into my arm. "That's a bonus."

Christian's excitement is starting to get on my nerves. I don't blame him for being happy, who wouldn't be? I just wish he could respect that I'm not there yet. I look up at the blue sky. Cain's soul is somewhere out there, somewhere so far from me that it's incomprehensible to imagine it.

I hope he is free. I hope he is at peace. I hope that wherever he is. . . someday I can be there too. I can't get his face out of my head, the last time we ever looked at each other, his eyes that shone so brightly with nothing but pure love. I thought that the six months apart would make this easier but I was wrong. It's harder. And it's harder because I know that even after six months my feelings for him will never go away, even when I think they have.

"What are we supposed to do now?" I mumble numbly.

Christian looks at me and smiles. "Live."