Short Story : You’ll Always Have Paris
“So, this is it?”
Ned smiled down at Izzy. They’d been together for seventy years, but now Izzy was close to death.
Ned was a vampire, and as such was destined to live forever. He’d always wanted to call himself Edward, and he had for a number of years, but those Twilight movies had put an end to that. It was just too cliché, and he worried that if he were to run into any other vampires they would take the Mickey out of him and ask him if he sparkled.
Likewise Izzy had been called Bella, but for the same reasons as Ned she had resorted to Izzy. Those books had a lot to answer for, not least of all the bad reputation they gave to vampires and those that loved them.
In the books, Edward had been forced to turn Bella into a vampire because she was dying, but the underlying truth was that Bella was a moron. She would happily give up her life to be with a boy, something that Ned would never wish on anyone. He’d had his life stolen away from him when he was very young and, though he did manage to meet the love of his life in the form of Izzy, they’d never been able to have children together to pass on their legacy. In spite of what some writers say, vampires can’t have children.
There’s another lie from Ms Meyer.
Ned took Izzy’s hand as she lay in her bed in their hotel room. They’d planned this trip because this was where they had first met.
Paris.
Their hotel room window looked out at the Eiffel Tower, and the curtains were open so that Izzy could still see the sights, with the tower lit up for New Years Eve.
“This is it,” Ned replied to the love of his life.
“Do you think,” Izzy began, then licked her lips to try and moisten her mouth, “do you think things could have been different if we’d have met when you were still human?”
Ned smiled, “I wouldn’t have wanted anything to be different, Izzy,”
Izzy smiled, “But if we could have led a traditional life,” she continued, “a life where we could have gone out during the day, both held down jobs. Hell, a life where I could have told people about you and not have them thinking I’m some decrepit old spinster.”
Ned stroked Izzy’s hand, “It might have been nice,” he said, “but what we had together was just as good, wasn’t it?”
Izzy blinked slowly, “I’ve enjoyed our time together,” she admitted.
“But?” Ned added tentatively.
Izzy shook her head, “There’s no but.”
Ned lowered his eyes, “You mean you wouldn’t have preferred it if we never met?” he asked, “If you’d have never been stuck with a vampire for the rest of your life?”
“I was never stuck with you, Ned,” Izzy told him, “If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have had a life. I wouldn’t have lived such a rich and fulfilling existence, even though you had to watch me age over the years while you didn’t change a bit. The looks people have given us lately when we’ve gone out for dinner – they must wonder what you see in me.”
“Or they think I’m your care worker,” Ned laughed.
Izzy groaned, “Always the joker,” she said, “even when it isn’t appropriate.”
“Sorry,” Ned apologised.
“Don’t be,” Izzy said, “I’ve loved your jokes over the years.”
“Even the inappropriate ones?” Ned asked.
Izzy nodded, “Especially the inappropriate ones.”
Ned looked into the eyes of the woman he’d spent the past seventy years with, a tear welling at the corner of his own, “So how long do you think you have?” he asked.
“Not long,” said Izzy, “I can feel my chest tightening even as we speak.”
Ned wiped his sleeve across his eyes, trying not to let Izzy see the tears that were appearing. She saw them, but knew not to comment.
“Does it...” Ned began, “...does it hurt?”
“No more than you’d think,” Izzy said slowly, “no more than you’d think.”
“Do you want to go to the window?” Ned asked.
Izzy nodded, “I think I’d like that.”
Ned picked Izzy up in his arms, something that had always come easy to him but was considerably easier now that she’d lost so much weight. The cancer had seen to that. The two of them moved closer to the window, looking out at the display of lights wrapping the tower in a display of beauty.
“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Izzy said.
Ned smiled, “It really is.”
“Do you-” Izzy coughed loudly, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, “-do you remember the first time we came here?”
Ned nodded, “It was 1958,” he remembered, “we’d been together for thirteen years.”
“I remember,” Izzy smiled, “it was just after World War II when we met. God I was so young.”
“You were seventeen,” Ned said, “and I was-“
“-Ageless,” Izzy finished. The two of them laughed.
“Do you think,” Izzy breathed deeply, “do you think I’ll make it to midnight?”
“Of course you will,” Ned stroked Izzy’s hair as he took a seat by the window, Izzy nestling in his lap, “and far beyond as well.”
“Is this some rubbish about living on in your heart,” Izzy rolled her half-blind eyes, “because you know that’s not the same as actually living on.”
“I know,” Ned paused, then asked, “do you ever think about what it would have been like if you had have changed?”
“You mean become a vampire?”
Ned nodded.
Izzy shook her head, “I know you never wanted that,” she said, “and I just wanted you to be happy.”
“Maybe I could change you now,” Ned offered.
Izzy laughed; a raucous belly-laugh Ned hadn’t heard in decades, “I don’t want that,” she said, “I just want things to be how they are. My time has come, Ned, I’m ready to meet whatever comes next.”
“What if nothing comes next?” Ned asked.
Izzy closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again, “Then I’m ready for that too.”
Ned stroked Izzy’s hair as the two of them stared out of the window at their view of Paris, waiting for the clocks to chime twelve.
They didn’t hear the clocks, but they saw the fireworks taking off into the sky, indicating what must have been the start of New Years Day. The start of a new year.
“Happy New Year, Izzy,” Ned whispered into his lover’s ear, “you’ll always have Paris.”
Izzy turned her head slightly to look up at Ned, “Don’t you mean ‘We’ll always have Paris’?” she corrected.
Ned shook his head, “Paris won’t be the same for me once you’re gone, but at least in the next life you can remember Paris with fondness.”
He looked down at Izzy, who was staring back up at him, but there was no life left in her eyes. Slowly he ran his hand over her face, her eyes closing under his palm.
And he wept.
Originally Posted 6/12/2015
Result - Joint 2nd Place
Ned smiled down at Izzy. They’d been together for seventy years, but now Izzy was close to death.
Ned was a vampire, and as such was destined to live forever. He’d always wanted to call himself Edward, and he had for a number of years, but those Twilight movies had put an end to that. It was just too cliché, and he worried that if he were to run into any other vampires they would take the Mickey out of him and ask him if he sparkled.
Likewise Izzy had been called Bella, but for the same reasons as Ned she had resorted to Izzy. Those books had a lot to answer for, not least of all the bad reputation they gave to vampires and those that loved them.
In the books, Edward had been forced to turn Bella into a vampire because she was dying, but the underlying truth was that Bella was a moron. She would happily give up her life to be with a boy, something that Ned would never wish on anyone. He’d had his life stolen away from him when he was very young and, though he did manage to meet the love of his life in the form of Izzy, they’d never been able to have children together to pass on their legacy. In spite of what some writers say, vampires can’t have children.
There’s another lie from Ms Meyer.
Ned took Izzy’s hand as she lay in her bed in their hotel room. They’d planned this trip because this was where they had first met.
Paris.
Their hotel room window looked out at the Eiffel Tower, and the curtains were open so that Izzy could still see the sights, with the tower lit up for New Years Eve.
“This is it,” Ned replied to the love of his life.
“Do you think,” Izzy began, then licked her lips to try and moisten her mouth, “do you think things could have been different if we’d have met when you were still human?”
Ned smiled, “I wouldn’t have wanted anything to be different, Izzy,”
Izzy smiled, “But if we could have led a traditional life,” she continued, “a life where we could have gone out during the day, both held down jobs. Hell, a life where I could have told people about you and not have them thinking I’m some decrepit old spinster.”
Ned stroked Izzy’s hand, “It might have been nice,” he said, “but what we had together was just as good, wasn’t it?”
Izzy blinked slowly, “I’ve enjoyed our time together,” she admitted.
“But?” Ned added tentatively.
Izzy shook her head, “There’s no but.”
Ned lowered his eyes, “You mean you wouldn’t have preferred it if we never met?” he asked, “If you’d have never been stuck with a vampire for the rest of your life?”
“I was never stuck with you, Ned,” Izzy told him, “If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have had a life. I wouldn’t have lived such a rich and fulfilling existence, even though you had to watch me age over the years while you didn’t change a bit. The looks people have given us lately when we’ve gone out for dinner – they must wonder what you see in me.”
“Or they think I’m your care worker,” Ned laughed.
Izzy groaned, “Always the joker,” she said, “even when it isn’t appropriate.”
“Sorry,” Ned apologised.
“Don’t be,” Izzy said, “I’ve loved your jokes over the years.”
“Even the inappropriate ones?” Ned asked.
Izzy nodded, “Especially the inappropriate ones.”
Ned looked into the eyes of the woman he’d spent the past seventy years with, a tear welling at the corner of his own, “So how long do you think you have?” he asked.
“Not long,” said Izzy, “I can feel my chest tightening even as we speak.”
Ned wiped his sleeve across his eyes, trying not to let Izzy see the tears that were appearing. She saw them, but knew not to comment.
“Does it...” Ned began, “...does it hurt?”
“No more than you’d think,” Izzy said slowly, “no more than you’d think.”
“Do you want to go to the window?” Ned asked.
Izzy nodded, “I think I’d like that.”
Ned picked Izzy up in his arms, something that had always come easy to him but was considerably easier now that she’d lost so much weight. The cancer had seen to that. The two of them moved closer to the window, looking out at the display of lights wrapping the tower in a display of beauty.
“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Izzy said.
Ned smiled, “It really is.”
“Do you-” Izzy coughed loudly, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, “-do you remember the first time we came here?”
Ned nodded, “It was 1958,” he remembered, “we’d been together for thirteen years.”
“I remember,” Izzy smiled, “it was just after World War II when we met. God I was so young.”
“You were seventeen,” Ned said, “and I was-“
“-Ageless,” Izzy finished. The two of them laughed.
“Do you think,” Izzy breathed deeply, “do you think I’ll make it to midnight?”
“Of course you will,” Ned stroked Izzy’s hair as he took a seat by the window, Izzy nestling in his lap, “and far beyond as well.”
“Is this some rubbish about living on in your heart,” Izzy rolled her half-blind eyes, “because you know that’s not the same as actually living on.”
“I know,” Ned paused, then asked, “do you ever think about what it would have been like if you had have changed?”
“You mean become a vampire?”
Ned nodded.
Izzy shook her head, “I know you never wanted that,” she said, “and I just wanted you to be happy.”
“Maybe I could change you now,” Ned offered.
Izzy laughed; a raucous belly-laugh Ned hadn’t heard in decades, “I don’t want that,” she said, “I just want things to be how they are. My time has come, Ned, I’m ready to meet whatever comes next.”
“What if nothing comes next?” Ned asked.
Izzy closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again, “Then I’m ready for that too.”
Ned stroked Izzy’s hair as the two of them stared out of the window at their view of Paris, waiting for the clocks to chime twelve.
They didn’t hear the clocks, but they saw the fireworks taking off into the sky, indicating what must have been the start of New Years Day. The start of a new year.
“Happy New Year, Izzy,” Ned whispered into his lover’s ear, “you’ll always have Paris.”
Izzy turned her head slightly to look up at Ned, “Don’t you mean ‘We’ll always have Paris’?” she corrected.
Ned shook his head, “Paris won’t be the same for me once you’re gone, but at least in the next life you can remember Paris with fondness.”
He looked down at Izzy, who was staring back up at him, but there was no life left in her eyes. Slowly he ran his hand over her face, her eyes closing under his palm.
And he wept.
Originally Posted 6/12/2015
Result - Joint 2nd Place
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