The Witch and the Lich; Vulnerable

Credits; Rea, Krell,

Night had become a bit of an inconvenience since he'd been transfigured into this abomination.  Even immortals slept, but for the undead there was no rest.  It was the thing he missed most about his life; the knowledge that at the end of the day, at the end of his year, and at the end of his life, there was time to rest.  And with Junsrew so close at hand he couldn't help but be reminded of losing that reality. 
But that didn't mean he was without solace.  It had taken him years to come to terms with the loss, but now he could rest his fates on something more certain even then death. 
"Lord God in heaven, forgive your servant for his sins.  They are numerous, and each as heinous as the last before you.  I confess feelings of rage at the existence of Arcania.  I confess that I have questioned the path you have placed before me.  And I confess," He paused as he tried to think of how best to word it.  It was God and he had to be honest, but he felt ashamed even thinking of the idea.  "I confess that I have found an adolescent to be attractive.  Lord, help me to cope with these trials that are before me.  Give me the strength to resist my base instincts and to serve you in all that I do.  Praise be your name, that of your merciful son, Jesus Christ, and also to the Holy Spirit.  Amen."
"Amen."
He spun around and saw Rea sitting crosslegged on the bed behind him.  Something about this place seemed to calm her, or perhaps it was simply that she was tired.  She didn't say anything else, just sat there and stared at him for a while before ultimately climbing back under the covers quietly.  There was no way of knowing how much she'd heard, and while she had certainly made it seem like she wanted him to find her attractive, he still worried about how she actually felt about it.  No one could have lived as long as she had without picking up on a few social delicacies.  And equally bothersome was the idea of her not being bothered by it.  Did he want to be associated with someone who looked very attractive for fourteen, and had no problems with the fact that an undead old man found her attractive?  He may have been a pervert for liking her, but if she was doing it on purpose than she'd have had to be several sorts of crazy, and none of them good. 
He looked back at the bed.  She was sleeping quietly, though hardly motionlessly.  He felt a bit of a temptation to put a hand on her shoulder, for all the death she must have caused to grow so powerful her dreams must have been even more haunting than his memories.  She was alone in the universe.  Sure she had a few friends, but she had no one she could truly rely on, no family, no loved ones.  Mortals were too fleeting for the undying, and she couldn't befriend immortals because of the knowledge that she would have to kill them one day.  But he couldn't reach out to her.  He wasn't sure if it was the similarity he saw in her to Lewiza or the resemblance she bore to their daughter that bothered him more; but they both did.  Things were still too confusing for his liking, it seemed he would have to pray some more.