Decklen technically doesn't exist. At least not in the sense of you and I.
I'd like to say he's a ghost, but I don't think that he is.
I've seen him pick up objects like my backpack. He's gotten under a blanket when he gets cold. He's even eaten food, though he doesn't seem to need to eat as constantly or as much as I can. Or even mention the fact that he's hungry.
And he's as solid as you and I.
But on the other hand.
I've seen him go through walls, he's materialized right beside me anytime I've felt anxious or scared. And obviously the most important part, no one can see him.
Except for me.
I don't know why I can, and honestly not long after I met him, I stopped asking.
Because he doesn't know either.
I stopped at my door and bent to catch my breath. Despite it raining lightly my shirt was drenched with a mixture of rain and sweat. I shivered slightly as I opened the door. I sat down to untie my shoes as Decklen brushed past me. Hearing the sound of the faucet, I smiled to myself. It turned off and looking up, I saw Decklen returning with a glass of water. He offered it and taking the cup, I drained it. Walking into the kitchen, I set it down and made my way to the bathroom.
When I came back from my shower, I saw that Decklen was waiting for me in the kitchen still. The glass had been cleaned and put away.
He hated clutter.
Not saying anything I grabbed the kettle and after filling it, turned the burner on. While eggs cooked, Decklen got two mugs out and placed bags into them, when the kettle whistled, he wordlessly filled them up. As bacon fat sizzled, Decklen scooped one teaspoon of sugar into my mug and two into his.
I slid the food onto a plate and setting it on the kitchen table, I sat down. Decklen walked over and set both mugs down.
He didn't speak as I ate slowly. When I was finally done, I poured cream into my tea and sipped it quietly, intent on letting the silence last.
"Are you alright?" Decklen finally asked me.
I laughed a little. "It was a dream, a silly one."
"You were talking in your sleep Rheya. You kept saying wake up," He frowned, "and something about permission to enter."
"It was just a dream, my book probably caused it."
"So...a vampire dream." He smirked.
I felt a flush creep up on my face. Looking away I didn't speak.
"So." He prompted wanting to know more.
"Nothing really. I dreamed I was in this big house, and I was sleeping but." I stopped as I started to remember.
Decklen frowned, "Go on."
"I was watching myself sleep. And then, a guy came in like a horror movie." I finished shrugging.
Decklen didn't answer right away, instead he started at me thoughtfully.
"And then?" He prompted again knowing there was clearly more.
More that I didn't want to tell him anyway. I sighed.
"He started to go after me, the sleeping me, and I, the awake me, started screaming. But it was like I wasn't there, the sleeping me didn't wake up and then man didn't acknowledge me. But right before he started to drink the sleeping me's blood, he started right at me. I screamed some more, and I woke up for real. It was morbid as hell." I said.
Decklen didn't speak.
"I mean, who wants to watch themselves die?" I asked.
A shadow seemed to pass over Decklen's face before he smiled suddenly.
"Well it does seem as if it was just a nightmare."
I smiled not bothering to ask him about the look that had passed over him. Decklen made those faces sometimes when he was lost in thought, he never elaborated, and I had like with almost everything including Decklen, given up on asking him.
After a few moments of comfortable silence passed between us, I sipped my tea and spoke.
"It was weird though, the house I dreamt of. It was strange."
"How so?" He asked me.
"It was so perfect." I said staring at the brown liquid.
"How is that strange? There are beautiful houses all over the world."
I shook my head, "I misspoke. I meant that it was as if I'd been there before, there’s no way I could have dreamt it, not in such detail." I said.
"It is odd, but I wouldn't worry about it. Remember what you read the other day? That it’s impossible to create faces in your dreams, maybe the same thing applies to places."
"Who would remember something like that? But even if it was true, that means I'd have to have been there in that room before. But I don't remember that."
"No, but maybe you saw it in a movie or poster and recreated it into your dream." He said smiling.
"Maybe." I agreed.
Silence fell between us again before I could stop myself, I was saying more.
"The vampire, he looked like you. Actually.” I stopped and then spoke before reason could stop me, “ it was you."
He looked at me thoughtfully before a smile began at the corners of his mouth.
"You think I'm a vampire?"
"I don't know. Maybe." I said.
"Except that for as long as I have existed, I've never wanted to drink blood. Nor have I ever had an aversion to sunlight, crosses or garlic. I believe those are the two key features to being a member of the undead isn't it? You are the expert on the subject, aren't you? You've read that book more times this year alone than I have seen copies in existence." He said to me.
I didn't speak.
"Not to mention.” He said lost in thought, “I clearly remember my dying day."