Lay It Down
Posted: 06 Feb 2016, 08:12
Alton: “Thanks Triste. You’re a doll.” He tapped his pen against the notebook and nodded. “Yeah, really. I got it this time. Just had a really bad feeling about the address. I guess I was just hoping I had it wrong. Thanks again. Tell Celeste I said hi.” He heard the sarcastic snort at the other end of the line before it went dead, a long, low buzzing in his ear as he tapped the sleep button and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans, along with the thin pad and pen.
So this really was the place. He grimaced at the very sight of it. The building was all but crumbling into the street, the bricks so old and abused that he could scrape a nail across the red material and it would crumble away beneath the gentle scratch. It was like a building built of chalk. He marveled at how a light rain hadn’t washed the dump away years ago.
Shoving through the front door quietly, he moved through the public part of the complex, checking the doors that were in good enough shape to still have numbers. Some of the doorways didn’t even have doors anymore. Finding the one he was looking for, he took a deep breath and lifted a hand, banging lightly on the thin wood-panel door.
<Charisma> Tossing her pen against the desk, she fell back into her chair and groaned. The material beneath her was barely held together, and every slight movement she made threatened to send her sprawling into the floor. This didn’t deter the small bundle of white, however, as the second there was space between her abdomen and the run down desk, the puppy wiggled her way into her lap. “Fleur, we have spoken of this. You cannot jump on whoever you please,” she chastised, before chuckling quietly when the Borzoi’s head snapped towards the rolling pen. Before she had a chance to utter a single word, she had dashed off in a flurry of claws and barking, sharp teeth clamping on writing utensil with a savage growl.
“Merde.” It was the only word that benefited the situation, and as her prized possession ran off with one of the last remaining pens, she rubbed at her brow. Her assignment was becoming more difficult with each passing second. The numbers had blurred together, and the thought of finishing the research by dawn was exhausting. Dropping the chair back into its normal position, she cringed at the squeak that all but shot a dagger of pain through her brain and began to gather up her papers. Each was smudged with ink, the words nearly illegible, and yet, it was all that she had. Dumping them into her binder, she moved to stand when the sudden sound of footsteps and soft tap against her door caused it to tremble on its hinges. Instantly, Fleur was on alert, her bark shrill and laced with warning as she narrowed her odd colored blue eyes on the door. “Sh, it is okay, amour. I am sure I am far more frightening than what is on the other side,” she whispered.
I hope.
Dusting off her loose black tank, she twisted a pen into her messy blonde locks and headed for the door, her fingers quickly fumbling with the broken lock before opening it a crack. When she saw the silhouette in the hallway, she pulled it open the rest of the way and raised a brow in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Alton: Shrugging his shoulders, he remained in the hall as he gave her a wide smile. Finally, the one beautiful thing in this heap. He could hardly believe that this was the right place. He had already been prepared to leave and everything, half expecting some cracked out addict to answer the knock on the door. He lifted a hand, pushing it through his hair as he glanced past her into the apartment.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he said with a playful grin, letting his eyes fall to her again. “I just thought I would drop by and surprise you.” He pulled an arm from behind his back, holding out a pair of roses to the woman as she stood in the doorway, the thin slab of fake wood all that protected her from the other denizens of this little hole. “I’d say you look sufficiently taken aback.” He chuckled as he glanced about the room over her shoulder again. It was surprisingly… unorganized. “Though, the surprise is on me. I thought I heard a dog. I didn’t know you had a dog.”
<Charisma> For the first time, she couldn’t form words. They seemed to lay heavy on her tongue, and it took her a second to collect her thoughts. In that single second, Fleur had shimmied her way between her legs, her long nose all but pushed against his thigh. It was the thought of her slobbering on his jeans that had the blonde snapping to reality, and she hooked her fingers into her blue diamond collar, pulling her back. “Non, bad. Go inside, Fleur.” Her tone was sharp, and the puppy instantly dropped her ears and ducked back inside, looking for all the world as if she had been beaten. “I do not mean to be rude, but there is a reason no one knows my address.”
The words were soft spoken, but there was no dulling the blow of them. Her wretched curse forbade her from easing them into the transition, and yet, she couldn’t help the twist of warmth she felt at seeing him. It had been a few days, and she had found herself missing him. Dropping her shoulders with defeat, she stepped back and motioned for him to come in, her free hand curling around the roses with an odd look about her features. “Merci, amour. They are quite lovely and unexpected. How did you find me?” Shutting the door behind him, she slid the broken lock back into place before stepping around him to head for the couch, quickly brushing magazines, clothes and books to the side for him to have a place to sit.
Alton: At her apparently unintentional, intentional rudeness, he laughed. He lifted a hand, waving it aside dismissively as she invited him inside with the turn of her body. He smiled, and stepped inside as he shrugged his shoulders at her question, letting her lock the door before moving to the couch she was clearing away for them to sit.
“A friend of a friend of mine happened to be in this very building one night, when you came home after school. When I told them why I wanted to know, getting the address was quite the easy task.” He chuckled, and finally took a seat once she’d made room for him. He didn’t comment on the disarray of her apartment, though he found it extremely unusual. In her, he had quite expected something else entirely. A neat freak, even.
“That puppy, what kind of breed is she? Beautiful girl. Just like her owner, though not quite so cute.”
<Charisma> One upside about her curse, was that she had trained herself to be able to pick apart deceit. She could hear the tremor in his voice, one that he thought he had hid so well, and she shook her head with a sigh. “It would be easier if you admit that you had me followed, Alton.” Her voice was quiet as she finished picking up the materials and tossed them haphazardly across the room. They landed with a thud in the corner, the books sliding and falling into the floor near Fleur’s water dish. “She is a borzoi. I found myself lonely, and she was better than a roommate.” With a quiet smile, she seated herself on the couch - the one good thing about the apartment - and rested back, her legs tucked safely beneath her form.
Alton: “Borzoi you say? Never seen one. Cute thing. Is she smart?” He gingerly avoided the subject of his knowledge of her address. In honesty, he actually hadn’t had her followed. Triste had taken it upon herself to find her for him; likely in the hopes of pleasing him. She was doing things like that lately. It was actually really nice, considering she didn’t want anything but his thanks in return, and he was always quite ready with that.
He watched as she all but tossed her books right into the poor puppy’s water, and smiled as he looked back to her. “Your place is really cozy. It must stay pretty warm in here. I kind of like it.” He glanced around the cramped apartment, and he actually found himself meaning it. It was disheveled, unorganized, wrecked, but it was comfortable and close. Intimate. “How long have you been staying here?”
<Charisma> No sooner had she found herself seated, she was up again, her feet slipping on a stray magazine. Catching herself by grabbing the back of her computer chair, she quickly brushed off her pants - the thin cotton clinging to her curves - and headed for the small kitchen. “She is. They are very intelligent. It is why I chose her. She was expensive - three thousand - but she is worth it. I love her.” Her voice was quiet as she opened the fridge, the door nearly falling off the hinges as she bent down to scan what she had inside. She hadn’t stocked since she was killed, having found no need for the soda or the cheesecake - most of which were molded. “I have been here since I found my way to Harper Rock University. It has been a few years. It is not cozy, but it is a place to live. Are you thirsty? I have Dr. Pepper.”
Alton: “That sounds great, actually, thanks.” He said over his shoulder, watching her walk into the kitchen. As she rummaged through the fridge, he watched as she leaned over, digging through the few items he could see in the mostly empty box before he turned away as she was rising with his drink in her hand. He couldn’t help but laugh at what she said she’d paid for the dog, and let his head rest back against the back of the couch.
“Three thousand dollars for a puppy? That has to be… what? Thirty months’ rent in this place?” he gave her a warm smile, thanking her for the drink as he took it. “Still, I can see why you would pay it. Sometimes, the right companions are priceless. Though, I have to ask, curiosity and all that, but why do you stay here? You can obviously afford someplace nicer, or even closer to campus. What is it about this place that keeps you here?”
<Charisma> As she dropped the nearly frozen can into his hand, she turned her attention to the television. It was a flat screen, and a thin layer of dust covered the black plastic. Before she took a seat, she moved towards it and dusted it off with a random t-shirt she found on the floor and grabbed the remote that was nearly hidden beneath another stack of books. It was clear she hardly used to the device, and yet, she headed back towards him with the remote in hand. “I have simply not cared to look for anything else. It is just me. Why would I spend money on something that I would be in alone?” Her voice was quiet as she slid back into her spot at his side, her slender finger pressing the power button. The television flared to life, the option to continue watching Grey’s Anatomy filling the screen. Leaning over him, she reached for the roku remote and pressed the center button, the menu disappearing as the opening credits began to play.
Alton: Shaking his head, he dropped his arm around her as she fell into his side. He looked over the clearly neglected television and smiled. At least, he could tell, she was an avid reader, rather than wasting so much time on the television, like so many other people might have. She was intelligent, a thinker, a visionary.
She deserved better.
“You said yourself that it isn’t cozy. If you don’t like it, why don’t you find something more to your taste? What good is money at all, if you aren’t going to use it?” He shrugged, and turned to push a kiss to the tangle of golden curls tied atop her head with the pen. “Just a thought, babe. If you like it well enough, then maybe it’s just the place for you.”
<Charisma> It was strange, to sit on the couch and feel his arm around her, as if it were the most natural thing to do. She had never been in a situation like this, and she hadn’t a clue how to handle it. He was breaking through walls she had in place since she was a child, and he seemed to have no care in the world with how he was wrecking her world. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying every single moment of it. Sighing quietly, she adjusted the volume so it was low enough to not go through the paper-thin walls, but high enough that it kept Fleur occupied as she rolled around on the floor. “It is evident that I have the money, but I do not like to spend it. It is not mine. I did not earn it. It was simply left to me when my mother died.” The words, though painful, came easily as she rested her head to his shoulder. It seemed the right thing to do.
Alton: Sighing lightly, he gave her shoulders a tender squeeze. His heavy, strong arm wrapped protectively around her as he kept her close to his side. “I didn’t know your mother was dead. Or that your money was an inheritance.” He kissed her cheek, then. “Sorry about your mother. But, wouldn’t you think she would rather you had this money, and used it to make yourself happy, than to just let it sit, and go to waste?”
He lifted a shoulder and gave her a muted smile. “I’d want that, if it were my money, my kid. I didn’t know the woman, but I’m sure that she loved you. “ He moved his fingers through her curls, patting at her tenderly as he sank into the couch.
<Charisma> She could feel the pain twist in her stomach, the need to swallow back the words that were clawing their way from her throat painfully strong. She hated that she couldn’t refuse him - that she couldn’t stir the conversation into less dangerous waters. After fighting it for as long as she could, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to continue the evening in the state she was in. “Oui, any mother would have preferred that, but my mother thought very little of me during her death. I am sure that she was concerned about the inheritance and what I would do with it while she was driving us off of the Ponte De Léna.” Once the words had been spoken, the discomfort eased, and she shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly. “There is no doubt that Kristiana loved me, but she loved her alcohol and my father more. Both of which killed her in the end.”
Alton: Shaking his head again, he squeezed her tighter still, and taking a steady breath. “Well, this conversation went from zero to a hundred faster than Rosa. And that’s impressive. Ask any of the guys and gals at the garage.” He turned and pushed another kiss, this time to her forehead. His fingers pushed blonde curls from her face as he sighed.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up. Still, though. You should at least try some creature comforts. You might blow your own mind. Besides, the pursuit of happiness is one of those things that we’re all supposed to be entitled to, you know?” He let his hand fall to her shoulder, giving it a warm, reassuring squeeze. “And sometimes, it just takes someone else to set us on the path to that happiness. Who knows? I might be the one destined to set you on that track.” He grinned, big and cheesy, as he pulled her close, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.
<Charisma> Guilt twisted in her chest, and she released a quiet breath at the same moment that he did. “I apologize. I cannot help it, as you have come to find out.” Her words were quiet as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, her lips smooth against his skin. Turning in her seat, she rested her back against his side and dropped her head to his shoulder, her gaze turning to the television. She could hardly make out what was happening, and yet she found herself uncaring. It was strange. “Perhaps you are correct, but I do not have options at this time. It is not so bad here, is it?” As soon as the words left her lips, a loud crack echoed through the hallway, followed by a series of shouts and screams that sent Fleur tumbling beneath her legs. “Oh, and there is that,” she said sheepishly, as yet another crack bounced off the walls.
Alton: Lifting a brow as his arm rested over her midsection, his hand splayed across her abdomen, he glanced down at her and cant his head to the side. “So. Two things. First, why do you feel like you don’t have options? There are literally hundreds of options available to you, you just have to take one. And two; what the actual **** was that?”
He turned his head to where the sound was coming from the wall. He half felt a need to reach for the knife in his coat, but was able to refrain. He could, at least in courtesy, wait until he knew what he was hearing, before he tried to dig through her walls for some monster that might or might not even exist.
<Charisma> Tracing her tongue over her lower lip, she tried to ignore the sounds coming from outside her door. The pounding of footsteps followed by shouts and chaos were somewhat familiar to her, but something told her that he would not appreciate her answer. “What options do I have? I am not very… progressed… with the search for real estate. I do not know where I would prefer to live, or what is the best district for me. I am comfortable.” It was another curse for her, the act of comfort. She feared change almost as much as she feared the woman who had turned her. Biting into her lower lip, finally, she gave a quiet sigh as the sound of a bullet embedding into a wall filled the room. “Those are gunshots. My apartment is near gangland territory. It tends to happen every once in awhile. I think twice a week?”
Alton: Both brows rose at that, and he shook his head, lifting his hands. “There are lots of places here, some of them pretty damn cheap, and almost all of them better than getting shot while you sleep.” He shook his head again, just trying to fathom what had possessed her to take the apartment in the first place. Coming up empty, he had to pose the question, because, truly, he couldn’t imagine why anyone in their right mind would willingly move in here.
“So, with all of this going on… what in the hell made you think that this was a good idea, moving into a place like this?”
<Charisma> She could hear the underlying anger in his voice, and she couldn’t piece together exactly what would have brought it on. She was safe - and he hadn’t a clue that she had been living there before being turned. As soon as the thought entered her mind, it fell from her lips, and she cringed. “It is not as if I am human still, amour. I survived here while I was.” Shaking her head, she turned and pressed her lips to his jaw again, before she sighed once again. “I was new to Canada. I was new to here. I had very little money to my name at the time. My father hadn’t a clue that I had left him, that I had left France. I did not want him to know until I was settled and he could turn my grandparents on me. So, I bought the first place that was offered.” She knew it wasn’t much of an argument in favor of the rundown building, but it was all that she had. She had gotten comfortable, and the thought of leaving panicked her - but something told her that he wasn’t going to give her much of an option after this point.
Alton: A long, heavy sigh left him as he shook his head again. Just what the hell. He pushed his hand through his hair, closing his eyes as he took a moment to collect himself. This was absolutely crazy. She was smart, she should know how insane this was. He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye and sighed again.
“Listen. I don’t know how the hell you weren’t riddled with bullets before you were turned, staying here. I don’t understand how you made it long enough to be turned at all, honestly, living in this place, but bullets can still hurt. Don’t tell me they can’t, I know. You need to find someplace a little less target practice, a little more bulletproof.”
<Charisma> Moving to her feet, she nudged Fleur out from beneath the couch and shook her head. “It is not that bad. See, it is already quiet.” With a smile in his direction, she headed for the front door and pulled it open just a crack - before instantly regretting it. The scent of blood filled her senses, the hunger turning her blue eyes a dark navy as she slammed the door shut and bowed her head. Gritting her teeth, she rested her head against the frame and closed her eyes. “Not bad at all,” she all but hissed, a second before another crack filled the air. Turning from the door, she headed for the kitchen and opened a mini-fridge, her hunger having her all but ripping the packages apart before they left their confines. Pouring one into a glass, she brought the rich crimson liquid to her lips and drank it heavily before turning her slightly maddened gaze to his. Control, Melody. “What do you suggest, amour? I cannot very well move in with you, can I? The ink isn’t even dried on your divorce papers.”
Alton: Laughing at that, he shook his head, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. “Not bad at all. Just with the stink of blood all around you, taunting you and the beast inside you to break into an unstoppable killing spree, sure to expose yourself and all the rest of us, while your sire is the one woman that would likely kill you first for just that.” He shook his head and watched her move into the kitchen. He chuckled at her words and shrugged.
“That has nothing to do with us. Though, it is a little soon, but we can at least find you someplace different. Maybe close to where I stay? Unless, that is, you want to move in?” He tried to keep the hopefulness out of his voice, though he couldn’t hide the smile. Honestly, it was quick, but his marriage had been very one-sided for a long time now. It was all but dead in name for more than a year.
<Charisma> Gripping the glass in her hand, she turned from him as she finished downing it, only to refill it a second time. It had dulled the ache the scent had caused, but not enough to control her need to rip into the warm flesh outside the walls. With a quiet sound of discomfort, she swept her gaze to Fleur, watching as she all but cowered in the corner, her head down and her paws over her eyes. She hated this for her, and she had never thought twice about it before he had shown up at her door. Sighing quietly, she took a slower sip of her blood before raising a brow. “I was being sarcastic, amour. I did not think you would actually prefer us to live together.” She had heard the tone of his voice, arguing the words that he was saying, and slowly shook her head. What other option, logically, did she have? She would not be able to find a new residence quick enough. “Your apartment does, however, possess two bedrooms. Since you are adamant that I do not live here any longer than necessary, I could take one of them, oui? Until I find a place that I prefer.” She wasn’t positive that he would go for the plan, and something told her that he would have her in his bed by dawn if it were his option.
Alton: Nodding, he stood, and moved into the kitchen where she stood. He smiled, and rubbed his hands together. “Of course there’s two bedrooms. Small problem, however. One of them is being used as a home gym. I don’t think there’s enough room in there for a bed.” He shrugged, and reached out to put his arm around her. “You’re welcome to my bed, though, of course. I wouldn’t offer up my place and put the lady out on the floor.” He grinned, and leaned down to kiss her temple.
“So maybe we should look into maybe… organizing some of these things, oui?” he glanced about the haphazard apartment, magazines, books, notebooks, pens, and pencils scattered all around. Clothes dotting the landscape with the random, out of place object here or there. “Anything you might want to take with you. The rest can stay here… I’ll help pay the rent, for storage.” He smiled down at her, then, and pushed golden curls from her face. “What do you think? Honestly?”
<Charisma> Tipping her head back, she finished the second glass and set it in the sink just as his arm came around her. Crinkling her nose, she found herself shaking her head with another of those resigned sighs. “You are the one that pointed out the illogical idea of us living together. You claimed it was far too soon,” she reminded him, before her gaze grew distant and she smiled. “I am sure that I have another option. I can contact Fable. He would have a place for me.” Shrugging a shoulder, she ducked from his arm and moved to search for her phone under her stack of research papers, before chuckling. “I will just need to grab a few articles of clothing and my college supplies. Oh, and Fleur, of course.”
Alton: He shook his head and flexed his arms as she moved around the kitchen. “I said it might have been a little soon, sure, but I never said it was a bad idea. Sometimes, things are just meant to move fast. I think what would be a bad idea, is putting an unnecessary strain on our relationship, by moving in with someone else.” He shrugged and lightly ran his knuckles across the heel of his opposing palm.
He smiled, though, at her words and nodded. “Any of your school things, make sure you get what we can carry. The rest I can get later, with a truck. And Fleur, of course. She’s more than welcome in my place.”
<Charisma> Drawing her brows together, she turned to face him, her phone resting in her palm and her best friend’s name on the screen. “I do not understand how it would cause strain. Do you not like Fable?” There was an odd tone to her voice, a low threat that warned him to tread lightly with how he spoke of her sibling. She found herself caring for the large man in front of her, and yet, the thought of him speaking ill of her best friend settled wrong in her chest. Running her fingers through her hair, she carefully put the phone aside as she waited for his answer, before she moved her gaze to her puppy. It seemed as if she knew change was coming. The second she looked at her, she ran towards her with her leash in her mouth and tail wagging quickly. “I told you that she was intelligent. I will need a few minutes to gather my clothing that I would like to wear.” With that, she headed for the small bedroom to the left of the kitchen and began to settle her clothing rather neatly into a bag.
Alton: Shrugging, he ran his hands through his hair again. “I can’t say that I don’t like him. I haven’t met the man, but he seems alright. It’s just that this is still a new thing, even as serious as it really seems to be.” He moved his hand between them, indicating their relationship. He smiled, then, and shook his head. “Just you moving in with another guy seems an unnecessary stress, when I’ve got room for you guys.” He waved his hand to the puppy as she trotted into the room, head held high with that smug, pleased look on her face as she carried her leash around.
He laughed, and nodded when she said she needed to collect a few things. He watched her pack, brows rising as she set about neatly stacking things. Neatly. That much surprised him, after seeing the state of her apartment. “I just think I really like the idea of having you with me.”
<Charisma> His answer seemed to please her, and she gave a small smile as she jumped up to grab a few items from the top shelf. Carefully, she placed them in the bag before turning to peek her head out of the door. “I will introduce you soon. He is a withdrawn, old soul. I want to make sure that this is… real... before I put you in his path.” She didn’t think twice about her words as she ducked back into the room and zipped up her bag, before throwing it over her shoulder. Grabbing Fleur’s bed off the floor and two pillows from her bed, she headed back into the living room and hooked the leash around the puppy’s neck. With a quiet sigh, she glanced to her desk and quickly pulled all her books and papers into one pile before unzipping her bag and dropping them in. Instantly, the weight strained against her shoulder, and she frowned. What was she doing? Was she really considering this? Pausing, she swallowed thickly before glancing down to the dog at her feet, her tail wagging and her eyes brighter than usual. It is better, Melody. “Do you have a television?”
Alton: Laughing, he leaned against the counter as he waited, while she dashed about the tiny apartment, collecting her things. “Real, you say? And what exactly do you think would make this real?” He chuckled, and pat his hand against the counter. “I was quite under the impression that it was pretty real.” He grinned, and lifted himself onto the counter.
He watched as she moved to the desk, collecting her school things and finally snapping the leash to her dog’s collar. He smirked, and hopped down off the desk. He laughed at her question, the sound genuine, loud, amused. “’Do you have a television’ you ask. You’ll see. I can bring yours, if you want it with you.”
<Charisma> Spinning in a slow circle, she made sure that she gathered everything she could possibly need. She was still uncertain, the rush of moving in with him seeming to have set her out of her comfort zone. What was she thinking? Biting into her lower lip, she forced herself to remain calm as she tipped her head to the television set and the small roku beneath it. “Couer purchased those for me. I doubt she would be pleased to know I left it behind to get it stolen.” Laughing quietly, she nearly stumbled when Fleur shot forward to attempt to run out the door. “Actually… I do not think I should go out there. It… it is dangerous, non? The blood? If you wouldn’t mind taking these things to your car, I could… I could meet you there.”
So this really was the place. He grimaced at the very sight of it. The building was all but crumbling into the street, the bricks so old and abused that he could scrape a nail across the red material and it would crumble away beneath the gentle scratch. It was like a building built of chalk. He marveled at how a light rain hadn’t washed the dump away years ago.
Shoving through the front door quietly, he moved through the public part of the complex, checking the doors that were in good enough shape to still have numbers. Some of the doorways didn’t even have doors anymore. Finding the one he was looking for, he took a deep breath and lifted a hand, banging lightly on the thin wood-panel door.
<Charisma> Tossing her pen against the desk, she fell back into her chair and groaned. The material beneath her was barely held together, and every slight movement she made threatened to send her sprawling into the floor. This didn’t deter the small bundle of white, however, as the second there was space between her abdomen and the run down desk, the puppy wiggled her way into her lap. “Fleur, we have spoken of this. You cannot jump on whoever you please,” she chastised, before chuckling quietly when the Borzoi’s head snapped towards the rolling pen. Before she had a chance to utter a single word, she had dashed off in a flurry of claws and barking, sharp teeth clamping on writing utensil with a savage growl.
“Merde.” It was the only word that benefited the situation, and as her prized possession ran off with one of the last remaining pens, she rubbed at her brow. Her assignment was becoming more difficult with each passing second. The numbers had blurred together, and the thought of finishing the research by dawn was exhausting. Dropping the chair back into its normal position, she cringed at the squeak that all but shot a dagger of pain through her brain and began to gather up her papers. Each was smudged with ink, the words nearly illegible, and yet, it was all that she had. Dumping them into her binder, she moved to stand when the sudden sound of footsteps and soft tap against her door caused it to tremble on its hinges. Instantly, Fleur was on alert, her bark shrill and laced with warning as she narrowed her odd colored blue eyes on the door. “Sh, it is okay, amour. I am sure I am far more frightening than what is on the other side,” she whispered.
I hope.
Dusting off her loose black tank, she twisted a pen into her messy blonde locks and headed for the door, her fingers quickly fumbling with the broken lock before opening it a crack. When she saw the silhouette in the hallway, she pulled it open the rest of the way and raised a brow in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Alton: Shrugging his shoulders, he remained in the hall as he gave her a wide smile. Finally, the one beautiful thing in this heap. He could hardly believe that this was the right place. He had already been prepared to leave and everything, half expecting some cracked out addict to answer the knock on the door. He lifted a hand, pushing it through his hair as he glanced past her into the apartment.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he said with a playful grin, letting his eyes fall to her again. “I just thought I would drop by and surprise you.” He pulled an arm from behind his back, holding out a pair of roses to the woman as she stood in the doorway, the thin slab of fake wood all that protected her from the other denizens of this little hole. “I’d say you look sufficiently taken aback.” He chuckled as he glanced about the room over her shoulder again. It was surprisingly… unorganized. “Though, the surprise is on me. I thought I heard a dog. I didn’t know you had a dog.”
<Charisma> For the first time, she couldn’t form words. They seemed to lay heavy on her tongue, and it took her a second to collect her thoughts. In that single second, Fleur had shimmied her way between her legs, her long nose all but pushed against his thigh. It was the thought of her slobbering on his jeans that had the blonde snapping to reality, and she hooked her fingers into her blue diamond collar, pulling her back. “Non, bad. Go inside, Fleur.” Her tone was sharp, and the puppy instantly dropped her ears and ducked back inside, looking for all the world as if she had been beaten. “I do not mean to be rude, but there is a reason no one knows my address.”
The words were soft spoken, but there was no dulling the blow of them. Her wretched curse forbade her from easing them into the transition, and yet, she couldn’t help the twist of warmth she felt at seeing him. It had been a few days, and she had found herself missing him. Dropping her shoulders with defeat, she stepped back and motioned for him to come in, her free hand curling around the roses with an odd look about her features. “Merci, amour. They are quite lovely and unexpected. How did you find me?” Shutting the door behind him, she slid the broken lock back into place before stepping around him to head for the couch, quickly brushing magazines, clothes and books to the side for him to have a place to sit.
Alton: At her apparently unintentional, intentional rudeness, he laughed. He lifted a hand, waving it aside dismissively as she invited him inside with the turn of her body. He smiled, and stepped inside as he shrugged his shoulders at her question, letting her lock the door before moving to the couch she was clearing away for them to sit.
“A friend of a friend of mine happened to be in this very building one night, when you came home after school. When I told them why I wanted to know, getting the address was quite the easy task.” He chuckled, and finally took a seat once she’d made room for him. He didn’t comment on the disarray of her apartment, though he found it extremely unusual. In her, he had quite expected something else entirely. A neat freak, even.
“That puppy, what kind of breed is she? Beautiful girl. Just like her owner, though not quite so cute.”
<Charisma> One upside about her curse, was that she had trained herself to be able to pick apart deceit. She could hear the tremor in his voice, one that he thought he had hid so well, and she shook her head with a sigh. “It would be easier if you admit that you had me followed, Alton.” Her voice was quiet as she finished picking up the materials and tossed them haphazardly across the room. They landed with a thud in the corner, the books sliding and falling into the floor near Fleur’s water dish. “She is a borzoi. I found myself lonely, and she was better than a roommate.” With a quiet smile, she seated herself on the couch - the one good thing about the apartment - and rested back, her legs tucked safely beneath her form.
Alton: “Borzoi you say? Never seen one. Cute thing. Is she smart?” He gingerly avoided the subject of his knowledge of her address. In honesty, he actually hadn’t had her followed. Triste had taken it upon herself to find her for him; likely in the hopes of pleasing him. She was doing things like that lately. It was actually really nice, considering she didn’t want anything but his thanks in return, and he was always quite ready with that.
He watched as she all but tossed her books right into the poor puppy’s water, and smiled as he looked back to her. “Your place is really cozy. It must stay pretty warm in here. I kind of like it.” He glanced around the cramped apartment, and he actually found himself meaning it. It was disheveled, unorganized, wrecked, but it was comfortable and close. Intimate. “How long have you been staying here?”
<Charisma> No sooner had she found herself seated, she was up again, her feet slipping on a stray magazine. Catching herself by grabbing the back of her computer chair, she quickly brushed off her pants - the thin cotton clinging to her curves - and headed for the small kitchen. “She is. They are very intelligent. It is why I chose her. She was expensive - three thousand - but she is worth it. I love her.” Her voice was quiet as she opened the fridge, the door nearly falling off the hinges as she bent down to scan what she had inside. She hadn’t stocked since she was killed, having found no need for the soda or the cheesecake - most of which were molded. “I have been here since I found my way to Harper Rock University. It has been a few years. It is not cozy, but it is a place to live. Are you thirsty? I have Dr. Pepper.”
Alton: “That sounds great, actually, thanks.” He said over his shoulder, watching her walk into the kitchen. As she rummaged through the fridge, he watched as she leaned over, digging through the few items he could see in the mostly empty box before he turned away as she was rising with his drink in her hand. He couldn’t help but laugh at what she said she’d paid for the dog, and let his head rest back against the back of the couch.
“Three thousand dollars for a puppy? That has to be… what? Thirty months’ rent in this place?” he gave her a warm smile, thanking her for the drink as he took it. “Still, I can see why you would pay it. Sometimes, the right companions are priceless. Though, I have to ask, curiosity and all that, but why do you stay here? You can obviously afford someplace nicer, or even closer to campus. What is it about this place that keeps you here?”
<Charisma> As she dropped the nearly frozen can into his hand, she turned her attention to the television. It was a flat screen, and a thin layer of dust covered the black plastic. Before she took a seat, she moved towards it and dusted it off with a random t-shirt she found on the floor and grabbed the remote that was nearly hidden beneath another stack of books. It was clear she hardly used to the device, and yet, she headed back towards him with the remote in hand. “I have simply not cared to look for anything else. It is just me. Why would I spend money on something that I would be in alone?” Her voice was quiet as she slid back into her spot at his side, her slender finger pressing the power button. The television flared to life, the option to continue watching Grey’s Anatomy filling the screen. Leaning over him, she reached for the roku remote and pressed the center button, the menu disappearing as the opening credits began to play.
Alton: Shaking his head, he dropped his arm around her as she fell into his side. He looked over the clearly neglected television and smiled. At least, he could tell, she was an avid reader, rather than wasting so much time on the television, like so many other people might have. She was intelligent, a thinker, a visionary.
She deserved better.
“You said yourself that it isn’t cozy. If you don’t like it, why don’t you find something more to your taste? What good is money at all, if you aren’t going to use it?” He shrugged, and turned to push a kiss to the tangle of golden curls tied atop her head with the pen. “Just a thought, babe. If you like it well enough, then maybe it’s just the place for you.”
<Charisma> It was strange, to sit on the couch and feel his arm around her, as if it were the most natural thing to do. She had never been in a situation like this, and she hadn’t a clue how to handle it. He was breaking through walls she had in place since she was a child, and he seemed to have no care in the world with how he was wrecking her world. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying every single moment of it. Sighing quietly, she adjusted the volume so it was low enough to not go through the paper-thin walls, but high enough that it kept Fleur occupied as she rolled around on the floor. “It is evident that I have the money, but I do not like to spend it. It is not mine. I did not earn it. It was simply left to me when my mother died.” The words, though painful, came easily as she rested her head to his shoulder. It seemed the right thing to do.
Alton: Sighing lightly, he gave her shoulders a tender squeeze. His heavy, strong arm wrapped protectively around her as he kept her close to his side. “I didn’t know your mother was dead. Or that your money was an inheritance.” He kissed her cheek, then. “Sorry about your mother. But, wouldn’t you think she would rather you had this money, and used it to make yourself happy, than to just let it sit, and go to waste?”
He lifted a shoulder and gave her a muted smile. “I’d want that, if it were my money, my kid. I didn’t know the woman, but I’m sure that she loved you. “ He moved his fingers through her curls, patting at her tenderly as he sank into the couch.
<Charisma> She could feel the pain twist in her stomach, the need to swallow back the words that were clawing their way from her throat painfully strong. She hated that she couldn’t refuse him - that she couldn’t stir the conversation into less dangerous waters. After fighting it for as long as she could, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to continue the evening in the state she was in. “Oui, any mother would have preferred that, but my mother thought very little of me during her death. I am sure that she was concerned about the inheritance and what I would do with it while she was driving us off of the Ponte De Léna.” Once the words had been spoken, the discomfort eased, and she shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly. “There is no doubt that Kristiana loved me, but she loved her alcohol and my father more. Both of which killed her in the end.”
Alton: Shaking his head again, he squeezed her tighter still, and taking a steady breath. “Well, this conversation went from zero to a hundred faster than Rosa. And that’s impressive. Ask any of the guys and gals at the garage.” He turned and pushed another kiss, this time to her forehead. His fingers pushed blonde curls from her face as he sighed.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up. Still, though. You should at least try some creature comforts. You might blow your own mind. Besides, the pursuit of happiness is one of those things that we’re all supposed to be entitled to, you know?” He let his hand fall to her shoulder, giving it a warm, reassuring squeeze. “And sometimes, it just takes someone else to set us on the path to that happiness. Who knows? I might be the one destined to set you on that track.” He grinned, big and cheesy, as he pulled her close, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.
<Charisma> Guilt twisted in her chest, and she released a quiet breath at the same moment that he did. “I apologize. I cannot help it, as you have come to find out.” Her words were quiet as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, her lips smooth against his skin. Turning in her seat, she rested her back against his side and dropped her head to his shoulder, her gaze turning to the television. She could hardly make out what was happening, and yet she found herself uncaring. It was strange. “Perhaps you are correct, but I do not have options at this time. It is not so bad here, is it?” As soon as the words left her lips, a loud crack echoed through the hallway, followed by a series of shouts and screams that sent Fleur tumbling beneath her legs. “Oh, and there is that,” she said sheepishly, as yet another crack bounced off the walls.
Alton: Lifting a brow as his arm rested over her midsection, his hand splayed across her abdomen, he glanced down at her and cant his head to the side. “So. Two things. First, why do you feel like you don’t have options? There are literally hundreds of options available to you, you just have to take one. And two; what the actual **** was that?”
He turned his head to where the sound was coming from the wall. He half felt a need to reach for the knife in his coat, but was able to refrain. He could, at least in courtesy, wait until he knew what he was hearing, before he tried to dig through her walls for some monster that might or might not even exist.
<Charisma> Tracing her tongue over her lower lip, she tried to ignore the sounds coming from outside her door. The pounding of footsteps followed by shouts and chaos were somewhat familiar to her, but something told her that he would not appreciate her answer. “What options do I have? I am not very… progressed… with the search for real estate. I do not know where I would prefer to live, or what is the best district for me. I am comfortable.” It was another curse for her, the act of comfort. She feared change almost as much as she feared the woman who had turned her. Biting into her lower lip, finally, she gave a quiet sigh as the sound of a bullet embedding into a wall filled the room. “Those are gunshots. My apartment is near gangland territory. It tends to happen every once in awhile. I think twice a week?”
Alton: Both brows rose at that, and he shook his head, lifting his hands. “There are lots of places here, some of them pretty damn cheap, and almost all of them better than getting shot while you sleep.” He shook his head again, just trying to fathom what had possessed her to take the apartment in the first place. Coming up empty, he had to pose the question, because, truly, he couldn’t imagine why anyone in their right mind would willingly move in here.
“So, with all of this going on… what in the hell made you think that this was a good idea, moving into a place like this?”
<Charisma> She could hear the underlying anger in his voice, and she couldn’t piece together exactly what would have brought it on. She was safe - and he hadn’t a clue that she had been living there before being turned. As soon as the thought entered her mind, it fell from her lips, and she cringed. “It is not as if I am human still, amour. I survived here while I was.” Shaking her head, she turned and pressed her lips to his jaw again, before she sighed once again. “I was new to Canada. I was new to here. I had very little money to my name at the time. My father hadn’t a clue that I had left him, that I had left France. I did not want him to know until I was settled and he could turn my grandparents on me. So, I bought the first place that was offered.” She knew it wasn’t much of an argument in favor of the rundown building, but it was all that she had. She had gotten comfortable, and the thought of leaving panicked her - but something told her that he wasn’t going to give her much of an option after this point.
Alton: A long, heavy sigh left him as he shook his head again. Just what the hell. He pushed his hand through his hair, closing his eyes as he took a moment to collect himself. This was absolutely crazy. She was smart, she should know how insane this was. He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye and sighed again.
“Listen. I don’t know how the hell you weren’t riddled with bullets before you were turned, staying here. I don’t understand how you made it long enough to be turned at all, honestly, living in this place, but bullets can still hurt. Don’t tell me they can’t, I know. You need to find someplace a little less target practice, a little more bulletproof.”
<Charisma> Moving to her feet, she nudged Fleur out from beneath the couch and shook her head. “It is not that bad. See, it is already quiet.” With a smile in his direction, she headed for the front door and pulled it open just a crack - before instantly regretting it. The scent of blood filled her senses, the hunger turning her blue eyes a dark navy as she slammed the door shut and bowed her head. Gritting her teeth, she rested her head against the frame and closed her eyes. “Not bad at all,” she all but hissed, a second before another crack filled the air. Turning from the door, she headed for the kitchen and opened a mini-fridge, her hunger having her all but ripping the packages apart before they left their confines. Pouring one into a glass, she brought the rich crimson liquid to her lips and drank it heavily before turning her slightly maddened gaze to his. Control, Melody. “What do you suggest, amour? I cannot very well move in with you, can I? The ink isn’t even dried on your divorce papers.”
Alton: Laughing at that, he shook his head, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. “Not bad at all. Just with the stink of blood all around you, taunting you and the beast inside you to break into an unstoppable killing spree, sure to expose yourself and all the rest of us, while your sire is the one woman that would likely kill you first for just that.” He shook his head and watched her move into the kitchen. He chuckled at her words and shrugged.
“That has nothing to do with us. Though, it is a little soon, but we can at least find you someplace different. Maybe close to where I stay? Unless, that is, you want to move in?” He tried to keep the hopefulness out of his voice, though he couldn’t hide the smile. Honestly, it was quick, but his marriage had been very one-sided for a long time now. It was all but dead in name for more than a year.
<Charisma> Gripping the glass in her hand, she turned from him as she finished downing it, only to refill it a second time. It had dulled the ache the scent had caused, but not enough to control her need to rip into the warm flesh outside the walls. With a quiet sound of discomfort, she swept her gaze to Fleur, watching as she all but cowered in the corner, her head down and her paws over her eyes. She hated this for her, and she had never thought twice about it before he had shown up at her door. Sighing quietly, she took a slower sip of her blood before raising a brow. “I was being sarcastic, amour. I did not think you would actually prefer us to live together.” She had heard the tone of his voice, arguing the words that he was saying, and slowly shook her head. What other option, logically, did she have? She would not be able to find a new residence quick enough. “Your apartment does, however, possess two bedrooms. Since you are adamant that I do not live here any longer than necessary, I could take one of them, oui? Until I find a place that I prefer.” She wasn’t positive that he would go for the plan, and something told her that he would have her in his bed by dawn if it were his option.
Alton: Nodding, he stood, and moved into the kitchen where she stood. He smiled, and rubbed his hands together. “Of course there’s two bedrooms. Small problem, however. One of them is being used as a home gym. I don’t think there’s enough room in there for a bed.” He shrugged, and reached out to put his arm around her. “You’re welcome to my bed, though, of course. I wouldn’t offer up my place and put the lady out on the floor.” He grinned, and leaned down to kiss her temple.
“So maybe we should look into maybe… organizing some of these things, oui?” he glanced about the haphazard apartment, magazines, books, notebooks, pens, and pencils scattered all around. Clothes dotting the landscape with the random, out of place object here or there. “Anything you might want to take with you. The rest can stay here… I’ll help pay the rent, for storage.” He smiled down at her, then, and pushed golden curls from her face. “What do you think? Honestly?”
<Charisma> Tipping her head back, she finished the second glass and set it in the sink just as his arm came around her. Crinkling her nose, she found herself shaking her head with another of those resigned sighs. “You are the one that pointed out the illogical idea of us living together. You claimed it was far too soon,” she reminded him, before her gaze grew distant and she smiled. “I am sure that I have another option. I can contact Fable. He would have a place for me.” Shrugging a shoulder, she ducked from his arm and moved to search for her phone under her stack of research papers, before chuckling. “I will just need to grab a few articles of clothing and my college supplies. Oh, and Fleur, of course.”
Alton: He shook his head and flexed his arms as she moved around the kitchen. “I said it might have been a little soon, sure, but I never said it was a bad idea. Sometimes, things are just meant to move fast. I think what would be a bad idea, is putting an unnecessary strain on our relationship, by moving in with someone else.” He shrugged and lightly ran his knuckles across the heel of his opposing palm.
He smiled, though, at her words and nodded. “Any of your school things, make sure you get what we can carry. The rest I can get later, with a truck. And Fleur, of course. She’s more than welcome in my place.”
<Charisma> Drawing her brows together, she turned to face him, her phone resting in her palm and her best friend’s name on the screen. “I do not understand how it would cause strain. Do you not like Fable?” There was an odd tone to her voice, a low threat that warned him to tread lightly with how he spoke of her sibling. She found herself caring for the large man in front of her, and yet, the thought of him speaking ill of her best friend settled wrong in her chest. Running her fingers through her hair, she carefully put the phone aside as she waited for his answer, before she moved her gaze to her puppy. It seemed as if she knew change was coming. The second she looked at her, she ran towards her with her leash in her mouth and tail wagging quickly. “I told you that she was intelligent. I will need a few minutes to gather my clothing that I would like to wear.” With that, she headed for the small bedroom to the left of the kitchen and began to settle her clothing rather neatly into a bag.
Alton: Shrugging, he ran his hands through his hair again. “I can’t say that I don’t like him. I haven’t met the man, but he seems alright. It’s just that this is still a new thing, even as serious as it really seems to be.” He moved his hand between them, indicating their relationship. He smiled, then, and shook his head. “Just you moving in with another guy seems an unnecessary stress, when I’ve got room for you guys.” He waved his hand to the puppy as she trotted into the room, head held high with that smug, pleased look on her face as she carried her leash around.
He laughed, and nodded when she said she needed to collect a few things. He watched her pack, brows rising as she set about neatly stacking things. Neatly. That much surprised him, after seeing the state of her apartment. “I just think I really like the idea of having you with me.”
<Charisma> His answer seemed to please her, and she gave a small smile as she jumped up to grab a few items from the top shelf. Carefully, she placed them in the bag before turning to peek her head out of the door. “I will introduce you soon. He is a withdrawn, old soul. I want to make sure that this is… real... before I put you in his path.” She didn’t think twice about her words as she ducked back into the room and zipped up her bag, before throwing it over her shoulder. Grabbing Fleur’s bed off the floor and two pillows from her bed, she headed back into the living room and hooked the leash around the puppy’s neck. With a quiet sigh, she glanced to her desk and quickly pulled all her books and papers into one pile before unzipping her bag and dropping them in. Instantly, the weight strained against her shoulder, and she frowned. What was she doing? Was she really considering this? Pausing, she swallowed thickly before glancing down to the dog at her feet, her tail wagging and her eyes brighter than usual. It is better, Melody. “Do you have a television?”
Alton: Laughing, he leaned against the counter as he waited, while she dashed about the tiny apartment, collecting her things. “Real, you say? And what exactly do you think would make this real?” He chuckled, and pat his hand against the counter. “I was quite under the impression that it was pretty real.” He grinned, and lifted himself onto the counter.
He watched as she moved to the desk, collecting her school things and finally snapping the leash to her dog’s collar. He smirked, and hopped down off the desk. He laughed at her question, the sound genuine, loud, amused. “’Do you have a television’ you ask. You’ll see. I can bring yours, if you want it with you.”
<Charisma> Spinning in a slow circle, she made sure that she gathered everything she could possibly need. She was still uncertain, the rush of moving in with him seeming to have set her out of her comfort zone. What was she thinking? Biting into her lower lip, she forced herself to remain calm as she tipped her head to the television set and the small roku beneath it. “Couer purchased those for me. I doubt she would be pleased to know I left it behind to get it stolen.” Laughing quietly, she nearly stumbled when Fleur shot forward to attempt to run out the door. “Actually… I do not think I should go out there. It… it is dangerous, non? The blood? If you wouldn’t mind taking these things to your car, I could… I could meet you there.”