to my aching glow

still, he spends n i g h t s shouldering the weight of its memories, dragging his feet down the alleys for a walk and more. sometimes, there will be pandemonium, for nothing about a first b r o k e n heart is not infernal. in a shed bought in cash, he wreaks havoc and smokes cigarettes

[christian-lucrece]

Like gears grinding, clockwork turning with tune the man moved. A hand rest upon a glass bottle which he slowly placed upon a shelf with many others. Each appearing to be failed clones of the next. Gradually twisting further and further from the shape of the object beside it. Twins that refused to look like the other, or siblings perhaps.  Some holding a liquid dark enough to hide against the wood it sat upon; others, the liquid so light it adapted the colour. 

A vague relay could be heard with each alcohol his shaking hand tapped in time with words  a voice rusty to even his own ears sung. The cogs working, his mind distant, Christian was unaware to the door opening behind him. “Chairs and tables knives and forks, Tankards and bottles and cups and corks, Beds and dishes and boots and kegs, Bacon and puddings and milk and eggs-” 

[christian-lucrece]

toddholchan:

Although Todd was never all that great when it came to talking to other people, Christian was a different story. Whereas other people would usually fill up blank space and awkward moments with words of their own, Christian seemed to talk even less. Todd wasn’t quite sure what Christian would say, so instead he sat silently, his eyes glancing from the table to Christian in the kitchen and back again.

“Sixty-one? Wait…you were seven in 1961?” Todd questioned. He stared at Christian for a moment. If Todd had to guess, he would say Christian was in his late twenties, early thirties at the most. There’s no way he could’ve even been alive in sixty-one. “Are…are you telling me you’re at least fifty years old?” Todd asked after doing some of the math in his head.

The only explanation that Todd could think of was that it had to do with being bit. He knew there were some perks that came along with it, like better senses, but he hadn’t even considered the possibility that in five, ten, even fifteen years, he might still be looking the same, or look like he’d barely aged at all. “I…I can’t imagine having to go through all of that at only seven,” Todd said as he pushed the questions of age from his mind, how it might be a very real possibility that he’d outlive friends and remain looking young while the rest of them became wrinkled and old.

It was the surprise in the other’s voice that bought the reminder to the man who’s hands gently shook as he made the two cups. Vague warmth, comfort that he handed across to the other. The boy who was just that. He wasn’t older than he appeared, unlike Christian. A child unaware. That was what Christian forgot. Something so long ago, he failed to think that Todd didn’t know enough. Sure he knew the boy who stood as stoic as himself had questions. But it was the off caught tone that prompted the thought. What he knew through and through before he was made his own; what he knew as law. Todd was left in the dark about. After all, how could he.

There was another moments silence as Christian thought about the years, and perhaps just how long it had been since he’d celebrated a birthday.  “Pretty much, that seems right. Sixty maybe?” Hands wrapping tightly around his own mug, “I haven’t kept track since I didn’t have to. Schools, they were something. But after-” A shrug at his shoulders seemed to trail off the sentence, as if for him it was enough to have been said. For a long time, others thought he was simply baby-faced. Until the moving continued. 

“It wasn’t too bad,” The sentence almost seemed as if it was to continue from his last, despite the long pause between. But then again, rigid just how the man was these days. Or perhaps it was because of the blatant lie that left his mouth.  “Better than a good moisturizer yea?” A joke, which he thought may miss it’s mark. “This ah- this is what happens though. And you. It will- you’ll look young. You’ll age slower.”

[christian-lucrece]

maggies-ghost:

People weren’t generally polite enough to offer a hand, whether that was in greeting form or offering aid, and so it took Maggie a too-long moment to decide what to do when Christian extended his hand toward her. Her eyes flickered down to his palm, and she knew she had to say something because she would hate to seem rude leaving him hanging like that. For Maggie, touching another person was a bit of an issue. Watching the change across someone’s expression was never pleasant, and the feeling must have been equally so for the other person. Say something Maggie! The girl spoke the first word that came into her head; “… germophobe…” and smiled apologetically. She hoped Christian bought the lie.

“I’m not called germophobe, I mean,” she continued and shook her head. Apparently she was quite good at speaking with her foot in her mouth. “I’m Maggie.”

No matter how long the man had been around for, he seemed to continue to adapt to the world around him. Although, some things remained ingrained. Small courtesies, delicate graces. He tried not to be as old fashioned as he knew he could be; which perhaps why he just smiled gently when Maggie simply stared at his hand for a moment’s time.  He wasn’t so caught back, and with the rate of those around Coolsville he wouldn’t have been that surprised if she simply ignored his hand. Instead, his smile grew slightly with a sort of bumbled reply. “It’s nice to meet you Maggie.”

He was sure he’d been around in the quiet town long enough now that he’d know if he liked it yet or not. But that didn’t seem the case with Coolsville. It perhaps didn’t matter if he liked it here or not, he was staying. There were questions he tried to think of to fill the silence as they walked, small talk. Ask her perhaps why unlike others, she’s the equivalent to sniffing out empty space. Rather, no words came to his mouth.

[christian-lucrece]

toddholchan:

Todd rubbed the back of his neck and grew quiet.  The night he was bitten and the weeks to follow…it was definitely something Todd wasn’t going to forget anytime soon.  He’d been in a bad place at the time, and being bit only added to the confusion.  He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and his whole life had changed because of it.

“I was eighteen,”  Todd answered, not meeting Christian’s gaze.  He was eighteen and scared and alone.  He’d stayed out late that night, told his parents that he was staying with a friend but had really been at Rosie’s until they almost closed.  He didn’t even see or hear anything on his way home, but in an instant, he’d been on the ground with a wolf biting at his side.  The scar was still there to prove it.  “That was five years ago.  So…I’ve been like this for a little while now.”

Todd had been like this for long enough to know the basics, but not long enough to have figured out a lot of things.  The internet and books weren’t much help, so Todd had to rely on his own experiences.  He wondered how long ago Christian was turned – was it possible to be born with this curse?  Christian looked to be in his late twenties, early thirties at most.  Todd considered asking for a moment, but decided against it.  For the time being, at least.  He didn’t seem to be the most forthcoming with information, especially personal information, and Todd didn’t want to overstep the boundary.

He knew he was difficult sometimes, for he’d not been a man of many words for quite a few years now. There was perhaps a time when the man was just a boy, childish in nature, buoyant. Lively. With stories to tell for days on end, and a certain spark for the world. These days however, what remained of that child hardly remained. It left a stoic man, with lines too old on his young face, and a presence that told just how much he’d seen. A man of few words, with too many stories now untold. Left to the quiet of the world.

There was a moment where Christian held eye contact with Todd, his lips parted in such a way that suggested he may have been about to say something. Tell him he was too young; or maybe that he shouldn’t have been turned at all. That he was sorry this happened as he was becoming a man. Instead, he lifted himself at the sound of the kettle finishing it’s boil and left apologies unsaid. 

“Sixty-one,” The words felt, strained. Like they were never truly meant to be said, as he moved across the kitchen once more, hands idly reaching for two cups and tea bags. It was a simple enough movement, repetitive. The same clockwork notion that set in place when the man was behind the bar. “Turned in sixty-one, seven years old.”

[christian-lucrece]

toddholchan:

Todd nodded.  “It used to be quiet,”  He agreed.  Sure, there was still some drama that’s naturally found in any town and there were still people that didn’t lead the best lives, but the town had mostly been quiet.  Todd remembered a time when his family didn’t even bother locking their front door because all of the neighbors were trustworthy and no one would even think of breaking into someone else’s house.

“Probably not,” Todd agreed.  Not much happened here, and even after the murder of Reese, news didn’t spread very far.  Todd had always figured they were a bit disconnected grim the rest of the world.  After he’d left Coolsville, he quickly learned that most people didn’t know about its existence.  Not only that, but there was plenty more going on in the world than Coolsville’s events.  That had been the only part Todd had really enjoyed about being away from Coolsville; seeing how the rest of the world worked.

“Not always, no.  I mean, I have lived here for most of my life,” Todd answered.  “But…I had a pretty rough time in high school.  So once I graduated, I wanted out of town for a bit.  The rest of the world wasn’t quite what I expected, though, and I wound up right back here.”

Christian had lived in the world long enough that he didn’t know what he thought of the word its self, for he knew it was so much more than he ever thought it would be. He thought he liked it. No, he was sure he liked it. Enough at least. Unsurprisingly for someone who’d been a part of the unknown for all too long, he wasn’t a man of many questions. Rather, he often just took things as were. Making life more complicated wasn’t much for him. But leaning against the bench in his house that needed more than a few repairs, looking to a mere boy who stood across the room from him, the man found himself with curiosity.

“How long?” He shot without much thought to the question he was asking, which showed in the lack of information he first gave. An expression crossed his face, frustration perhaps, thought maybe. It was hard to tell sometimes what the man was trying to express. “How long ago were you turned?” The words swept through his lips easier this time, forming a sentence that was supposed to be.

[christian-lucrece]

toddholchan:

That, unfortunately, was not the answer that Todd wanted to hear. He wanted to be told that after a while, you get used to changing into something else every month. While he didn’t like Christian’s answer, Todd had partially expected it. He’d been like this for five years now – not necessarily a very long time, but certainly long enough to realize that it hadn’t been gotten any easier.

“Right.” He nodded, still slightly disappointed that he hadn’t been told that it became easier through the years. It was worth a shot, at least.

Todd stood, growing quiet for a moment. He’d come to Christian’s home for two main reasons: to get to know the man a little more, as well as have a few more of his questions answered (is there a better way to protect other people each month other than going out into the middle of the woods and pray that no one follows? Is there a way to remember what you did on a specific night? How much do those Hollywood stereotypes prove to be true?) but Todd figured that he’d already asked one question, it might be best to learn a little more about Christian first.

“This is a nice house.”  He decided to say.  It was his attempt at striking up a conversation in hopes of learning more about Christian.  Which, in Toddy’s history, he was not all that great at, as he tended to stumble over words and wasn’t the best at keeping up a conversation.  Still, he wanted to try, especially since buying a house in Coolsville meant that Christian would likely be sticking around for a while. “What, ah, what made you want to settle down in Coolsville? It’s not exactly a tourist-y kind of place.”

To get to know Christian was a task on it’s own, something that could have taken years, if not decades. For no matter how much one would search, there wasn’t much of a man to find. There were layers, upon layer, upon layer. Seams, and fabric stitching around a simple shell of a man. Delicately placed smiles, and rough hands to make one believe that perhaps he was whole. He was something.  But to tear apart the stitches that traced themselves so delicately around the man, to pick and pull, and grasp for what was underneath. One would come to find that all the man seemed to be was solitude. The walking personification of it at least.

He was nothing. 

Perhaps because he never had the time to find who he was. Or maybe that was just it, he was too many things; too many things which he was not that made him be.

“It seemed quiet,” The answer felt simple, and it wasn’t like it wasn’t the truth. Coolsville was the place he picked because of everything he hated in a town. “Abandoned almost,” Christian spoke, moving through his house, listening to the floorboards creak under his feet over the sound of his own voice. “I found out of the place after the death, news travels outside. Not that I was far out, but if I weren’t at a pub I don’t ever think I would have even heard of Coolsville.” Without asking Todd if he wanted a drink, the man found himself flicking on the kettle to boil. An action repeated out of habit regardless of the situation.

“Have you always been here?”

[christian-lucrece]

alicedunn:

Toying with the gummy, saccharine sweetness. She traced the coat of melted marshmallow with the metallic spoon; scooping a thing layer of goo the leisurely trailed back down to the bowl of luke-warm milk. “Your energy introduces you before you speak,” she detachedly shared, her starless blues fixed on the pink sweet. She didn’t have to call the man a liar to point out that his seams were less attached than he was aware of. The truth always oozed out of one’s lips without ever twisting its tongue.

Sighing, she pushed the bowl away from her seated figure; nauseated by its artificial colors melding together. In its place, she placed both elbows and rested her chin upon her curled knuckles. “Do you usually speak in opposites?” The fair blonde proceeded, not trying to laminate her words in the same artificial sugar her stomach refused to consume. “Is it for yourself…” Alice trailed off, tilting her head ever so lightly, “or is it habit turned syndrome you simply cannot overcome?”

Indeed, from the ways her words wrapped themselves around her tongue, it was almost obvious that the wallflower of a girl was, in fact, lonely herself. Never had she been as talkative as she was now. It was a need; to fill the silence in order to silence her own wandering thoughts.

Silence was something Christian had grown used to in his years of solitude; he did not care for much noise, weather it be artificial or natural. He often found himself happier without it. And the sound of his own voice, that was something less than regular for him to hear. It, in it’s own, was an artificial sound. Years of different adaptations, decades of shifting; changing. Not in the way that the earth erodes, naturally, peacefully. Rather, in the same way that man came, forcing buildings in place, and carving out what once was.

His accent, no longer there. It, much like himself, didn’t have a place it belonged to. The sound of it, soft almost despite the coarse tone it held. He always managed to sound- uncertain. 

Your energy introduces you before you speak. The words resonated through his mind, despite how delicate they originally were. There were truths in what she said, Christian was sure of it. And taking his eyes off the milk in front of him, and instead facing the girl who barley glanced at him, he knew. He wasn’t the only one who was lonesome.  But he did not say anything- who was he to call a young girl isolated. She wasn’t alone after all, just in the same as he was not. Here the two of them were, desolate but with company. Despite how rare.

“It’s more a syndrome,” the man admitted in his ways. After all, it had been years; as long as his ever changing voice, that he’d not been able to admit the truth. That just wasn’t the way it was. It wasn’t who he was. 

[luis-nevarez-deactivated2019030]

@christian-lucrece

As a kid, Todd never paid much attention to the sky.  Sure, it was cool and all, and he could understand why people found the stars and the moon so fascinating, but it simply had never been on the top of Todd’s interests.  Of course, when he turned eighteen that all changed.  He made sure to keep a calendar up in his room, and Todd would often double, triple check for when the full moon would be.  A quick search on the internet would confirm what his calendar told him, and a reminder set in his phone made sure that Todd wouldn’t forget.

Whenever the full moon was close, Todd could always feel himself getting more anxious.  He would glance over his shoulder more, and his hands tended to feel clammy on the days leading up to the night.

When Todd spotted Christian, he was overcome with mixed emotions.  On one hand, it was nice to know that there was others in Coolsville going through the same thing once every month.  On the other hand, Todd found himself knowing very little about Christian.  While he was friendly enough and knew much more than Todd did, he still wasn’t quite sure how to act around Christian.

“Hey,”  Todd said as he approached Christian.  He stood to the side a little awkwardly, his clammy hand rubbing the back of his neck out of slight nervousness and worry about what the upcoming moon would bring.  “I…uh, I was wondering – and hopefully you have an answer.  Um, do the months get any easier?”  Todd asked, hoping that Christian would understand what he was saying without Todd having to flat out say it.  “Like…do you ever get used to this kind of thing happening every month?”

[christian-lucrece]

The sky had always been fascinating thing to Christian, even as a boy, before the event of course. But it never used to be the full moons that interested him as much, those were once a time for simply his grandfather to look after. To Christian, the wonder held in the stars. Constellations. The stories each one told. He’d spend his nights with his grandma, as she pointed up to a new star this night, and dragged her finger across the wonders until there was a figure he could see. And then, she’d begin talking. Telling the story of that star. People or gods who once were, placed in the sky.

Ask him now days, and he’d be sure he could recite all the stories back.

That however, he knew wasn’t the reason he found Todd Holchan approaching his porch that seemed to creak under the weight where he stood. He was here facing the other not because the stars, rather the moon.

Greeting the other didn’t consist of much more than a gentle smile across the man’s tired face, and opening the door to gesture the other in. More to say ‘welcome’ perhaps, or ‘we shouldn’t talk out here’. The first words that left Todd’s mouth weren’t the kind that Christian found himself expecting. He thought perhaps the boy would ask who the others were, and perhaps he’d give out the names. Or maybe, he’d ask if there was a way to cure this. A question with a rather obvious answer however.

It could have been the soft look in Christian’s eyes as he faced Todd, or the way he drew his lips in sigh before speaking that answered the question before he even answered it. “In the same way you could get used to drowning,” he said. “It hurts still, every time if that’s what you’re asking.”

[archerinhiding-blog]

First Impressions // Maya x Open

[christian-lucrece]

archerinhiding:

Maya had momentarily forgotten about all the rules she’d had to stick to when in public. Don’t look anyone in the eye, don’t let people think you’re following them, don’t take drinks from strangers… among a few others. New York had taught her to be savvy but Coolsville was already making her forget all of her street sense. 

She looked up to again meet the stranger’s eyes, a confused dent appearing just above her brow line. “It’s fine.” Her response was short, she hadn’t thought about it before open her mouth and as the seconds ticked by she regretted that, she wanted to know what he could have to apologise for. Before the stranger got the chance to turn away with her acceptance, she opened her mouth again without thinking. “What for?” 

Small towns were hard, at least in Christians opinion. It was easy enough to have a place, and a purpose. To be known, or at least noticed. But those were things that the man wasn’t too used to. He would always prefer cities. Bustling and busy, easy to get lost in the crowd. Because being a part of a crowd was easy. No one would notice you, no one even gives you a second glance. It wasn’t about street sense, or being savvy. To him, it was about being no one. But the moment you step foot into Coolsville, you’re instantly given a name.

There was the internal cursing the moment the girl who’d looked up asked why he was apologising. There wasn’t even a need to apologise. He stood there a moment, he thought it seemed right when he stood from his seat originally. “Loud talking, I think-” His voice was low, almost making it seem like a mumble in its self. “It looked like I disrupted you. I thought maybe- It looked liked I should apologise.”

[christian-lucrece]

alicedunn:

Shaking her head, “It’s a small town,” she deterred the question. Anyone new stuck out in Coolsville, everyone knew just about everyone here, after all. His accent was inviting to her untrained ears, and she found herself gazing up at him again, head tilted as if to hear him a bit better. To his next question, she wasn’t as quick to answer. Thinking back, the answer would be a simple ‘no,’ but that answer lead her curiosity into an eerie place which she had no energy to analyze that night. She was exhausted and too short on cash to spend the night at the local motel, so instead, she was brain dead in a diner. Not an unusual sight at Rosie’s, but ever so unbecoming on the girl.

“No,” she finally answered as she rested her chin in her palm, staring at the man with an unreadable expression. Alice, to herself, peeled the layers of the dignified creature, giving him a story that she thought was fitting. He had sad eyes, but didn’t everyone when you looked into them for too long? Or was she simply projecting her own emotions across and onto him? She didn’t care to think of the latter thought. “Are you always this lonely?”

Christian was never the type of person who survived in the spotlight; he was a painting that didn’t quite make the gallery showing, or perhaps one that was forgotten on the way. Misplaced. Lost. Artwork that was never truly painted for the eyes of others.  Small towns were nice, they were no where towns. Such was true to Coolsville at least. Not the centre of anything, nothing particularly extraordinary about it. Even the place he’d previously found himself, less than an hour away had more to it. Not by much, but it felt like more. The people, the places, the town.

Yes. It was obvious what the girl mean with her words. Yes it was obvious he wasn’t from around here. Or perhaps it was obvious he wasn’t from anywhere. 

He gave a slight nod to her next answer, his eyes directing back to the mug in front of him as he gently placed his hands to it. Sturdy and strong in appearance, with years or wear that came from hands that were used too often, they still managed to tremble in the slight movement. What was he to say to a young girl that was asking if he was always lonely? This lonely. He was a pack creature, something programmed to spend its life with others. With a family. “I’m not lonely,” He said rather simply. It perhaps might have been the truth, or perhaps if he said it enough times it would become true.

[archerinhiding-blog]

First Impressions // Maya x Open

[christian-lucrece]

archerinhiding:

For the first time since moving in, Maya stepped out of her apartment with nothing to do. She’d set up her furniture and made sure there was food in the cupboards, but sitting in there alone had already proven to be extremely boring and she was only a few days into being here in Coolsville. She pulled the door shut behind her, making sure to hear the lock catch- security was something she’d grown used to in the city and even if this town seemed like a quiet enough place, she was on guard 24/7. 

The town was nice. Dull and uneventful on the surface, but she knew it would be good for her. Soon enough she was standing outside a building, the sign reading “Rosie’s Diner.” It might be nice to explore some of the local landmarks, and to get some food in her system that hadn’t been prepared in her kitchen. 

Maya stepped inside, finding a booth quickly and sliding into it, picking up a menu from the table. A waitress approached and she decided on coffee and a sandwich, and off the employee went to put in her order. The place seemed nice, it wasn’t too busy even with a few tables full of chatting friends and couples. But the chatting wasn’t loud enough to cover the conversation being had at the counter- a stranger sat, speaking into their phone quite loudly. Maya glanced up, accidentally catching the eye of the customer making the noise just in time for their call to end. She quickly averted her eyes, pretending to be interested in the menu in front of her again. She hoped they would forgive her prying eyes, but it became clear that they wouldn’t as they approached her table. 

The brunette sucked in a breath, turning to the fresh face and smiled. “Can I help you?” 

It was easy for Christian to find himself settles at Rosie’s Diner, after all it was just a walk away from his bar, and the lack of food in his own home constantly seemed to drive him there. Not that there wasn’t anything, Pumpkin often seemed to make herself at home by filling the cupboards with coloured cereal that had marshmallows floating near the surface, and noodles on the occasion. Of course the man himself chipped in with the ever present steaks in the freezer, and coffee by the tonne. But it should have been easy for him to realise that it wasn’t enough to sustain off, yet he never quite reached to do too much about it.

Instead he sat in a less than populated diner, with leather couches that often were worn at the corners, speaking on the phone to someone who wasn’t his significant other. Yet the conversation managed to sound much like a conversation that was either about a little girl or a really cared for garden. “It’s alright, I’ll pick her up after- yes she can stay the night. I’m doing close though- you don’t mind? No, that’s alright. No no, Pumpkin is fine with me. Yes I’m sure.” The sentences seemed to repeat every now and again, with the mention of apologies, and low incoherent mumbles every now and again. But nothing out of the ordinary.

It wasn’t until he hung up the phone however, that his eyes looked up to meet those of someone he perhaps may have disturbed. It didn’t quite occur to him at the time to lower his voice for the seven people who all seemed to be in their own world.  But standing up, and bringing his pot of coffee, Christian found himself walking over. “I thought I ought to apologise.”

[mysteryinspo]

the WOLVES of Coolsville

[christian-lucrece]

alicedunn:

With dimmed blues and an absent expression, Alice watched the oats and marshmallows soak up the milk in the bowl. Sticky she’d image the latter to become; melting gradually at first, soon to disperse in streams of color which shy dazedly swirled with her spoon. The diner was never a place she visited for a meal, but she was exhausted, and home was an unlikely option till she could straighten her head. It only helped that Rosie had a heart of gold, and wouldn’t mind the girl staying there even though she had no money on her at the time.

The blonde appeared to be out of it, but it was difficult to tell since she never really was ‘all there.’ Lifting her gaze from the hypnotizing free treat, she absent-mindedly started at the older man sitting across from her. He was handsome, in the way older men were. “You’re not from around here…” she softly uttered, their distance enough to carry her voice. “So many of you, these days.” The girl went on returning her attention to the Lucky Charms, too soggy to eat.  

Christian had always wondered how obvious it was that he wasn’t from around here. But the older he grew, the more evident it became to him he never really was from anywhere. Not places he’d visit however. No- not visit. For now he was living. He was surviving. He had a place to call his own, things he owned in a town that wasn’t his. But wasn’t that enough? Quiet and abandoned seemed to be the rest of the town- and the people in it even more so. It made him miss cities. With passing people, and barely permeant residents, it was easy to get lost in a sea of people. In a place where no one was concerned with anyone. Where no one seemed to be from there, no one seemed to care.

“Is it that obvious?” In his tone, there wasn’t even the slightest hint of evidence of his belonging accent. Instead it was an accent that tried it’s best to cling to every place it’s once been. The kind that grew even harder and harder to pin down with each passing year. “Is there usually this many of us?”

[christian-lucrece]

maggies-ghost:

“That’s true, remind me not to make coffee when I go home,” Maggie replied and gave a one syllable laugh, knowing full well that the first thing she would do when she got home was make herself a pot of coffee. It gave her something to do for 10 to 15 minutes every morning, noon and night despite the coffee itself having no adverse affect on her whatsoever. Heck, she couldn’t even taste it unless it was pure black and laced with sugar. The blue, syrupy drink that she currently had between her lips was just vaguely cold and sweet enough that she almost, kinda could taste it. Who’d have thought being dead would be so decidedly bland?

The offer to go for a walk from Christian almost caught Maggie by surprise, and the girl was admittedly thrilled at the idea. Finding someone to willingly keep her company felt like a small miracle. A gracious, thankful smile spread across her (still blue) lips. “I wouldn’t mind. It’s not like I’m swamped with things to do.” She waited a moment of two before standing up, just to make sure the man wasn’t winding her up.

In a town like Coolsville, wandering in the night time always left a rather strange sensation crawling on the back of Christians neck. It was beautiful. Peaceful. With leaves that caught up in the wind and tapped ones ankles in their walk, and street lights too just dull enough to kiss the moonlight. In all that though, you were never alone. Somehow, there was always the lingering feeling of others. Eyes perhaps watching, or ghosts of the night.  There wasn’t too much of a reply Christian was expecting from the blonde who sat with her slightly tinted lips holding a straw between them. Between the recent events that had happened in the town, and the hour of the morning the two had found themselves conversing in, he wouldn’t have blamed her for not even having spoken a word back in the first place. 

Hearing the Maggie’s agreement though, Christian’s own lips curled into a smile and his hand reached out to offer her a stand from her seat. Company wasn’t something the man often found himself with outside of work, with the exception of Pumpkin. “I’m not certain I ever caught your name-” He paused for a second contemplating their previous conversation, but unable to recall much. “Christian.”

[christian-lucrece]

The diner was a place Christian found himself more often than not in his free time, not because he didn’t like the solitude of living in peace and quiet in his home. But rather because the man was less than capable of cooking for himself, or more so having anything rather than a frozen steak in the freezer and a box of cereal in his near empty cupboard. Which made the not quite run down diner the perfect place to find a meal.

It didn’t take long however for him to feel the eyes of another on him, as he idly stirred the insides of his coffee. Looking up he offered what might have been a smile.

[christian-lucrece]

Pumpkin: I guess I'm just too tough to cry.

Christian: Just today you were crying about snakes.

Pumpkin: They don't have arms!!

[christian-lucrece]

Christian: i'm dad inside.

Christian: i meant dead.

Christian: no i didn't.