vampire smile

baby I need a friend, but I'm a vampire smile, you'll meet a sticky end. I'm here trying not to bite your neck, but it's beautiful and I'm gonna g e t so drunk on you and kill your friends.

[langdon-heart]

flowershopxwitch‌:

She couldn’t see, but she could feel the planter continuing to lean more and more to the side. When that small bit of weight was suddenly taken away, Isabella let out the smallest gasp and braced herself for a clattering noise that would never come. Just as she was about to crane her neck to see what happened, she caught a quick glimpse of a hand reaching out to take another flower arrangement. The planter left her possession and Isabella’s hidden face emerged from behind the leaves and flower petals.

“Oh, hi there,” she huffed sheepishly as she smiled, finally able to see the man that had come to her aid. Noticing the the heavy cafe door was no longer threatening to shove her back outside with its own weight, Isabella quickly made her way inside.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she could almost hear her mother’s condescending voice telling her to stop wasting time and just use magic to take care of this menial task.  

Despite the amount of planters she was carrying in her arms, Isabella now stepped over the threshold with ease. It was as if those two planters were the only things holding her back from being an otherwise functioning person.

At the question, Isabella found herself quickly glancing around the shop as though the answer would be sitting in one of the seats or hidden in a plush cushion. “Maggie said she’d leave a big table for me open in the back…” she muttered for a moment before spotting the mentioned table. “Oh! There it is,” she said as she nodded her head in the direction of the table, silently signaling for the man to follow her. “Thank you so much, I really owe you.” said Isabella before she started to lean down to carefully place the armful of planters on the wooden surface. 

He gets a smile when some of the flowers clear and he can get a better look at her. Pretty is his first thought, which is both welcome and unfortunate. He was too good at killing pretty, a trail of ruination behind him, until he’s amazed some days that he ever got the stains off his hands. Amazed that everyone here can’t see them now, pretending he’s somehow normal, somehow nice, hands filled with flower pots instead.

It always feels like an act, every second he pretends he’s human, even the smile he offers back to her. Like muscle memory, the ghost of the man he used to be still hovering somewhere in his bones. He’d been a fake when he was alive too, and maybe it was only fitting that this was what he ended up as. Just as fitting that there was no one to really miss him when he disappeared.

At least he liked to think he was good at faking it. Humor coloring the words now that he can see her. “So there is a person in there.”

He follows her directions, constantly aware of the space around him and between them. Heading towards the back of the cafe to settle the planters in his arms next to the others. The gratitude shrugged off with that same easy smile plastered on his lips.

“No worries. Looked like you needed a hand.”

He can’t look at her for long. That was a still a work in progress, because his eyes still tended to drift towards throats. Try to find the outline of veins, to wonder just how easy it would be to rip open skin. Actions were easier to control than thoughts, so he nods his head back towards the door instead. “You got any more out there?”

[langdon-heart]

flowershopxwitch‌:

With pursed lips and brows furrowed in mild concentration, Isabella read the address she had written down on her phone and breathed a small sigh of relief when she realized that this was her last delivery of the day. She quickly pocketed her phone and car keys and made her way to the trunk. But it was there she found herself staring down the reason why she had pushed this particular job to the very end of the delivery list. Sitting in the truck bed, waiting to greet her, was a large order of small flower center pieces for the coffee tables and a few larger planters meant to adorn the window sills of the little shop. 

Maybe it was a need to pull off the proverbial bandaid and get this particular delivery over with, or maybe it was because of the same hubris that Isabella exhibited whenever she made a particularly large grocery run and thought that she could take all the bags inside in one trip. Either way, Isabella had grabbed as many planters as she could in her lithe arms, but even then, the order outweighed her ambition. She’d have to make another trip to get everything she wanted inside. 

There was the ever present temptation to just use her magic to make this job easier. To lessen the heavy burden in her arms by just floating the center pieces a tiny bit to make it lighter and easy to carry, but Isabella stubbornly refused even as she struggled to back into the door and use her own weight to shove it open. 

Head buried in an assortment of white and yellow flowers, she couldn’t quite see the face of the stranger that had come to her aid.  “Yes please!” Isabella huffed sheepishly as she shifted her body and arms in an attempt to catch a small planter that started to lean a bit too far for her liking, “Can you just tip that one over towards me?” 

There’s something undeniably humorous about the sight; a woman half obscured by the flowers she’s carrying. Like planters with legs, even the words spoken over soft white and yellow petals. His smile widens briefly, hands moving when she answers him.

“I’ve got it.” He doesn’t quite follow directions, lifting the planter out of her grasp instead of just pushing it back into place. Tucking it comfortably against his chest with one arm before he reaches for another, foot holding the door propped open. Even if it were heavy he would barely feel it. It was one of the few advantages of being dead, and some days he wishes he could take more comfort in things like that. Find more comfort in what he was capable of, instead of feeling like a junkie, constantly strung out and looking for his next fix.

The kind that usually meant a mess left behind, bodies and blood on his hands, none of which should sound as good as it does right now.

It’s the kind of cost that makes him grateful the kid behind the counter is too lazy to offer to help. Staying comfortably on his side of the register, eyes down and on his phone like he doesn’t notice the woman pushing her way in the door. Langdon is eager to return the favor, though the sweet scent she brought in the door with her might not make it much of an improvement.

He wraps an arm around the second planter before he steps back. Putting that slight bit of distance between them, telling himself it’s a precaution and not a necessity. Tilting his head towards the inside of the cafe. “Where do you want these?”

[langdon-heart]

The kid working the counter was too thin to really count as dinner. A snack maybe, and he wouldn’t have registered as much more than that if his heart wasn’t beating so god damn fast. It made it harder to concentrate on much of anything else, barely aware of even how hot the cup of coffee was as Langdon poured it down his throat.

This was his problem. It had always been his problem, since the day he’d woken up gasping for air he didn’t need anymore, mouth still tasting like copper. He couldn’t control himself, because no one had ever taught him how to when all he wanted to do was get the hell away from the thing that had turned him.

So here he was. The restart button pushed once again, a fresh town with fresh faces that he told himself he wasn’t going to rip from their skulls this time.

If he could just stop fixating on that vein in the kid’s neck.

The bell above the door jingled, the sound blessedly louder than the steady thud of a heart beating too fast. There weren’t enough other people here at this time of day, so he latched easily onto the offered distraction, sliding out of his seat to catch the door.  “You need help with that?"

@flowershopxwitch

[langdon-heart]