Chapter Text
“Nova?” a voice echoed in Nova’s thoughts, muffled and a million miles away as she drifted back to reality. The bright sun was disconcerting, a sharp contrast from the darkness of the room she’d just been standing in.
“Nova!” The sharp voice finally became clearer as Nova’s gaze landed on Ray’s figure a few feet away from her, his hands thrown up in exasperation and a familiar annoyed expression painting his features.
Nova smiled sheepishly as she straightened, smoothing her skirt and stepping towards her friend. “Sorry, Ray,” she spoke, mindlessly toying with the end of her braid.
“It happened again, I assume?” Ray replied, his annoyance softening to understanding as he fell into step beside her.
Nova nodded, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s the third one this month. They’re becoming more frequent. I’m not sure what to make of it…” she trailed off, her voice slightly shaky.
The visions had been commonplace in Nova’s life since as long as she could remember, an everpresent reminder that she wasn’t normal , at least as normal as someone who could control fire could be.
Her father had dismissed the visions early on, claiming they meant nothing, but Nova knew that wasn’t quite true. She had heard the whispers surrounding her since the day the first one appeared when she was barely five years old. Daywalkers with visions were rare , a once in a generation occurrence that she had only heard mismatched tales of.
It was even more unheard of for the future leader of Sunnyside to have visions.
The same boy had featured in every vision; a boy around her age with messy, dark hair dyed red at the ends and a sharp jawline that never quite left her thoughts.
The visions had begun as simple flashes of his face, frozen moments in time that didn’t connect no matter how hard she tried to tie them together. She’d been nine when the idea of keeping a record of the visions came to her, and now the worn leather pocket journal bursting with messy scribbles and quick sketches never left her side.
Nova’s fingers brushed the soft leather as she took a deep breath, flashes of the most recent vision tumbling in her mind on repeat. “They’re longer now, more intact. I see flashes of other figures, people dressed the same way as him ,” she continued, glancing over at Ray.
He shot her a soft smile, although she could see the worry behind it. Ray had never been comfortable with her visions, especially when he figured out that the boy whose face she’d seen her entire life was likely from the enemy town; the town she’d sworn to protect her people from.
A daywalkers’ first warning in life wasn’t fire safety or control, it was to stay far, far away from any resident of Shadyside.
“I don’t know what that means either, Nov,” Ray replied, his hands twisting together the way they did when he was anxious. “You’re the only one who can truly figure that out.”
Nova sighed heavily, the familiar weight of loneliness settling inside of her. “I know,” she replied, her voice soft, unsure.
“Let’s get back to practice,” Ray spoke, his usual grin spreading across his face, the tension easing slightly. Nova smiled back as they made their way to the practice field.
Without really trying, Nova’s thoughts drifted back to him , as they often did. She had spent her whole life wondering about who he was.
Was she ever going to know, or was he just a ghost that haunted her every waking thought?
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“Victor, are you even listening?” Vera’s aggravated tone cut through the fog in Victor’s mind, his mind barely registering the fact that she stood inches away from him, her arms crossed over her chest and her sharp, familiar glare piercing into him.
Victor shook his head, the last remnants of soft blue eyes and golden hair slipping from his mind as he focused on his friend, who currently looked like she wanted to stab him. “What?” Victor replied, not bothering to hide the scowl on his face.
Vera had a habit of appearing right when he was mid-vision, ruining the few short glimpses he got of the girl who never left his thoughts, or his sketchbook.
Vera rolled her eyes, swiping a stack of papers off of the table beside her and shoving them into his hands. “Your aunt needs you to go over the harvest plan,” she spoke, her knowing gaze lingering a moment too long.
“Sure thing,” Victor replied, trying for nonchalance but failing. “Another vision?” Vera questioned with a slight raise of her eyebrow. Victor sighed, knowing he couldn’t lie to his oldest friend. She could read every inch of him like a book, even more so than Vargas.
“Yeah,” he replied, running a hand through his already messy hair, a red strand falling across his forehead. “They’re getting longer, more detailed. I can see others in the background.”
Vera sighed in response, concern flitting across her expression for a brief moment. “You’re the future elder of Shadyside, Victor,” she spoke, her tone heavy. “You shouldn’t be so…connected to a daywalker. It’s not natural or safe.”
Victor sighed heavily. “I know, Vera. I can’t really control it. She’s been a part of me since I was five.” His voice was low, defensiveness slipping into his tone before he could stop it.
Vera stood still for a moment, just watching, before she nodded and tilted her head towards the door of the study. “Duty calls. Don’t be too long,” she spoke before exiting, the door swinging shut behind her.
Victor groaned, burying his face into his hands. Why wouldn’t she leave his head? Why was he cursed with the image of a girl meant to be his enemy dancing through his thoughts every minute of the day?
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The day of the harvest began like any other since the bloodfruit supply had run low - bright, sunny, and full of tension. Nova pulled the brush through her hair, her gaze trained on the golden strands running through her fingers as if they held the answers to every question she’d ever asked.
Last night’s vision, one that had kept her awake for far longer than necessary, filtered through her mind in broken flashes, his face replaying like a broken record every time Nova closed her eyes.
She’d seen more than usual - longer glimpses of the boy’s bedroom and the streets of Shadyside; a more clear look at the way the moonlight fell across his hair and the way his red t-shirt was just a little too tight on his arms.
Pulling her hair into the hair tie resting on her wrist, Nova shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Her father wouldn’t be happy if his future heir was lost in a dream world on the most important day of their lives - the day they tried to take back the orchard, for good.
Nova attempted to dress quickly, the ticking clock beside her bed counting down the minutes until her father would inevitably appear in the doorway, expecting the most perfect version of his daughter to be standing, waiting for his signal.
However, when every piece of clothing she pulled out of the closet didn’t seem right , the fabric too stiff, the colors too bright; Nova collapsed on her bed with a huff, daring to close her eyes.
As if he’d been waiting, the boy’s face appeared before her, his lips twisted in a cocky grin that made her heart beat faster as he spoke to a figure standing in front of him. The figure was distinctly female, but their face was blurry, features obscured.
Nova tried to place where the conversation was taking place, but all she could see was moonlit sand and dark water splashing in the background. Her gaze settled on the boy again before the vision faded and her eyes opened to her father standing in front of her, his face twisted in an unreadable expression.
“Nova, I asked you to be ready ten minutes ago.” Nova sat up, avoiding her father’s disappointed features. “Sorry, dad,” she muttered, already making her way to the closet and pulling out the first skirt and cropped jacket combo she could find.
As the door shut behind her father, Nova couldn’t quite slow her racing heart as her thoughts drifted back to the boy and the fact she’d never get to know him in the way she wanted.
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Victor wasn’t really paying attention as the harvest group made their way to the orchard, his thoughts stuck in a loop of sparkling blonde hair and pretty pink lips. The most recent vision had been the most clear in months; an upclose shot of the girl laughing at something a blurry male figure said in the background.
He had tried to ignore the spark of anger that came at the sight of her laughing with someone else, someone that wasn’t him.
Somehow, he’d fallen for a girl he’d never met, never even seen in person. It was torture, seeing her face and hearing the soft lilt of her laughter, but never being able to reach out and touch her, to see if her golden hair was really as soft as it looked or if her tan skin was warm to the touch the way he’d imagined.
Shit, he was spiraling again, as he often did when he thought of her. If Vera wasn’t deep in a conversation with his aunt right now, she’d probably smack him.
After an interruption from a bubbly girl with blue-and-blonde hair, the introduction of aliens (which Victor still hadn’t quite wrapped his head around), and the appearance of the rival daywalkers, Victor trailed into the clearing near the orchard, the tension so palpable he could feel it.
He wasn’t really in the mood to fight, too weak from hunger and slightly sleep-deprived from the memory of the recent vision; but he knew he had to protect his people, so Victor lifted his hand, feeling his fangs emerge and the wind begin to swirl the leaves around his feet.
The towns divided into two sides, the daywalkers a blur of gold, red, and white as flames flickered around them. Victor couldn’t make out a single face in the flurry of motion, the indistinguishable features of their faces reminiscent of his visions.
Victor shifted forward slightly, preparing for the imminent battle, when a flash of golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes flitted through his peripheral and stopped him cold, his body frozen as the past twelve years of visions filtered through his mind like a movie montage.
In that moment, her bright smile, her soft laugh, and her tan skin were the only things he could possibly see, feel, know.
Time seemed to slow as her gaze locked with his, her blue eyes widening as shock filled her features. “It’s you,” he spoke, his voice louder than he meant. He watched as she echoed his words, her pink lips forming the words in a way he couldn’t tear his gaze from.
Vera’s angry shout at a nearby daywalker pulled Victor back to reality, although his gaze never left the girl. Her blonde ponytail swished across her shoulders, her white and gold skirt just short enough to distract him more than he’d like.
As the day bled into night, discussions and reluctant peace negotiations floating in the air around them, Victor still found himself moving as slow as Addison’s zombie boyfriend because he Couldn’t. Stop. Thinking. About. Her.
She was the daywalker’s future leader. He was the vampire’s feature leader. She was all he could ever think about.
He was fucked.
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Nova sat on the edge of her bunk, her legs swinging so fast it shook the wooden frame of the cloud-shaped bed. Her mind was racing, her cheeks still flushed from the full-body reaction she had from seeing him .
His warm brown eyes and messy red and black hair were the exact mirror of her visions; but the dark cape and silver jewelry were a new addition to the mental file folder her brain had created five years ago; when she realized the butterflies in her stomach after every vision meant something.
“Nova,” a soft voice came from her right side, causing her to break out of whatever trance he’d induced and lock eyes with Addison’s. “I can practically hear the gears spinning in your head, girl. What’s up?”
Nova laughed softly and slid off of the bed. “Just processing,” she lied a little too easily, not quite ready to spill her guts to her brand-new camp counselor. Addison looked at Nova like she didn’t quite believe her, but smiled and rubbed the younger girl’s shoulder.
“Don’t process too late. We have camp activities bright and early!” Addison exclaimed, her voice cheery. Nova laughed, running a hand through her messy ponytail. “Goodnight!” Addison called, disappearing out of the cabin door, no doubt to locate her boyfriend.
An hour later, Nova found herself deep in her bag full of clothes attempting to find an acceptable outfit for the next day, the rejected garments scattered across the cabin floor.
Similar to that morning, nothing felt right . Nothing felt good enough. With a jolt, Nova realized she was trying to impress him .
“Fuck,” she whispered, sinking into the pile of rejected crop tops and skirts. “I’m screwed.”
Nova felt the weight of her words as she uttered them, the vampire’s face flashing in her mind like a projected movie screen.
Nova never dressed to impress anyone, except maybe her father. He’d ruined her, without ever stepping into her life.
Her fingers curled around her favorite red skirt, resignation spreading through her bones.
She was slightly in love with a vampire, her sworn enemy, and for some reason, she didn’t feel guilty.
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Victor could feel the cool breeze of the in-between’s ocean brush across his face as he watched the waves lap against the shore, his mind tracing the events of the past few weeks.
He hadn’t quite fully grasped the fact that he’d played a key role in saving both towns, with the girl of his literal dreams right by his side.
Five days prior, Nova had walked him to the border between their towns, promising to see him again. She’d stopped an inch away from the magical barrier, spinning around and jumping into his arms with a certainty that he felt in his core.
Victor had lay awake every night since, his head spinning with the memory of her floral perfume and the softness of her skin against his as he held her.
He should’ve pulled her closer. He should’ve kissed her. He should’ve done anything except let her walk away, unsure of the next time he’d ever catch a glimpse of her golden waves and blue eyes.
The soft crunch of shoes against the sand pulled Victor from his thoughts, a resigned sigh escaping him. “Not now, Vera. I need a break,” he spoke, his voice sharper than he intended.
“Good thing I’m not Vera,” a voice that definitely didn’t belong to Vera echoed from behind him with a soft laugh. Victor’s heart flipped as he spun around, Nova’s soft grin stealing the breath from his lungs.
“Hey, sunshine,” he whispered, watching as she stepped close enough so he could see the soft blush spreading across her cheeks at his words.
“What are you doing here?” Victor continued, fists clenched in an effort not to reach out and pull her body against his. Nova’s eyes searched his, her expression unreadable.
“I forgot something,” she whispered, close enough that Victor felt lightheaded, unbalanced, hopelessly gone for her.
“What would that be?” Victor replied, his voice a wreck as his hand itched to land on her waist, her cheek, her arm.
“This,” Nova replied before her lips found his and he couldn’t focus on anything besides the warmth of her mouth and the way her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt.
“Shit, Nova,” he whispered against her lips, pulling her to his chest, his hands slipping under the hem of her top and brushing her skin - which was just as warm and soft as he’d imagined from his visions.
Nova’s tongue teased his lips, a soft groan escaping him as she threaded her fingers through his hair. Victor could feel the strands of her messy braid falling across his face, the scent of her strawberry shampoo making him lightheaded.
Victor pulled away from her lips to trail his mouth down Nova’s jawline and neck, pressing warm kisses to her collarbone and enjoying the soft sighs that escaped her as he shifted upwards, swiping his tongue against a sensitive part under her ear.
Pulling back slightly, Victor took in the dark flush that filled Nova’s cheeks and the smudge of red lipstick at the corner of her mouth. Smiling, Victor brushed it away with his thumb, his hand other skimming the bare skin near the waistband of her skirt.
“You’re even better than I imagined,” he whispered, watching the spark light in her eyes at his words. “You’re beyond my wildest dreams,” Nova replied, her mouth already moving to settle over his and her fingers curling into the collar of his shirt.
Victor felt his world shift into place in that moment, over a decade of wondering, of wanting, of needing dissipating as Nova’s fingers brushed his jaw.
Thanking the stars above, Victor lost himself in the feeling of her soft skin and the idea that this was just the beginning of forever.