"That's an odd name," I muttered to myself, grinning a bit. "Very... thousand-years-ago-chique."

"And Ophelia is any different?" Elijah smirked, sipping his tea.

"Ophelia means serpant, thank you very much," I quipped back in offense. "And I have been told that my name is very dashing."

Elijah laughed a little bit before placing his tea down and standing up.

"I regret to inform you that I must go now, or else my brother will be suspicious of my whereabouts." He sighed. "I am truly sorry, Ophelia."

"No worries, Elijah," I waved off. "I understand, it's ten minutes past your curfew. We've all been there before."

But Elijah didn't laugh at my hilarious joke, making me crease my brow slightly.

"I didn't mean for that, Ophelia..." He whispered. "I am sorry for what is to come."

"What the hell do you mean-"

"Please, feel free to call me if you are ever in need of assistance. I won't be able to come over for tea, unfortunately, but if you ever need back-up, I shall be there."

"I don't even have your-"

"Goodnight, Ophelia. Sweet dreams."

And within a second, he was gone.

"Dick didn't even let me get a sentence in," I muttered. "'Oh, I'm Elijah, I am very posh and I like to wear suits a lot, hahaha! I also give the paranoid witch who has the world trying to kill her that the most feared creature in all of history is after her and I also give her cryptic ass hints about prophecies involving her! How fun!'"

I slammed the door shut and sighed, leaning against it. Feeling my phone buzz, I pulled it out and looked confused, then embarrassed.

From: Elijah

I do not sound like that, for the record. Goodnight, Ophelia.

-E.M.

To: Elijah

Yes you do. Goodnight to you too, Elijah.

-the girl who knows that it is you texting her because she has this wonderful thing called caller ID. You haven't got the need to sign your initials at the end of a text.

From: Elijah

My apologies. Farewell.

To: Elijah

Later, Shakespeare.

I laughed a little at myself before switching my phone off and throwing it on the night table that came with the apartment. Laying down in my bed, I looked up at the ceiling and sighed for what seemed like eternity before rolling over and finally letting sleep take me.

"Sweet Ophelia," The curly haired man whispered, caressing my face softly as he held me. "Why must you leave me?"

I smiled weakly and stared at him through my long eyelashes.

"This is all but permanent, my love. We shall meet again."

"And when should that be?" He asked. "A year? Two? Ten? A thousand? How long, my love?"

"We shall meet again in the lion's den. I will be born again, and this time, we shall be unstoppable." I whispered, taking a gasp of breath. "It will be no stroll through the meadows, but then again, what is when it comes to us?"

I chuckled a little bit more before coughing, drawing myself back to what was currently happening to me.

"We will love each other as we do now, I promise."

The man let out a sob as I coughed up blood, clutching me closer to his warm, hard, chest.

"Don't leave me, my love, don't you leave me-"

"Promise me that you'll still love me when I arrive again. Promise me you will love no one else until we meet again. Promise me." I interrupted, coughing up more blood and becoming weaker.

"Always and forever, Ophelia."

"Always and forever, indeed."

I woke up with a gasp, clutching my head as an excruciating pain went through it. Flashes of the dream went past my eyes, making me groan.

"I can never get a fucking break, can I?!" I hissed, biting my lip.

Slowly, the pain in my head faded away, but that didn't explain the dull ache that I felt in my once ice cold heart.

"What the fuck?" I whispered, feeling uncontrollable tears in my eyes. "Who the fuck?"