“I’m only a shadow,” she says, eyes dark and face tilted down; perhaps it’s a fitting statement—- don’t they say vampires can’t walk in sunshine? “I’m not like you, with your constant idealism and…hope. I can’t save anyone.”

“You saved me,” you tell her, because she did, risked the destruction of the whole world for you; despite what she thinks, she’s good.

She shakes her head again, dark waves brushing past her face; half obscured, half lit in the early morning light—- in her eyes you can see the heaviness of an eternal, guilty existence, the weight of every girl she didn’t save before you. “I’m not a hero.”