Izzy nodded and sighed at his anticipated silence. Slowly, she straightened one of her legs on the floor from where she sat, reached into her pocket, and removed a hair tie. Pulling back her hair, she quickly tied it up, exposing her neck. Without a word, she scooted closer to him and reached to wrap an arm around the child’s frail form. She refused to let her hold on him falter, careful for fear of hurting him as she tried to turn his attention from his struggles to her throat. She almost sighed in relief when her efforts worked, and he calmed down. She inhaled sharply when she felt his fangs pierce her skin, but it faded quickly, replaced by the sensation of him drawing her blood.
	Confident he would not try to pull away, she loosened her grip on him, one hand awkwardly rubbing small circles on his back, trying to convey that, no matter how things felt today, they could only get better.
	She took a slow breath and closed her eyes.
	Her last statement to him was more than just a promise, it was a [i]vow.[/i] She was not here out of obligation, but because she [i]wanted[/i] to be. Fate had dealt out her cards, but [i]she[/i] was the one who had chosen to play them in this way. No matter what the future had to dish out, they were in it together, bound by invisible threads they had unknowingly been weaving together from the night they met, threads strengthened by the scars they now shared.
	This, Izzy felt, was only the beginning of their story, a story of two wounded, fractured souls.