Dex had almost every reason in the book to avoid the Tuscany estate, teeming with vamps and lycans he’d rather avoid seeing. Vamps were a mix of enemies and general antagonism, most pack-affiliated lycans didn’t hide their distaste for him. While he’d normally welcome a fun distraction, today he’d rather sip coffee in the room about his “shop” and read the paper. Instead, he begrudgingly found himself walking through the villa on an errand for said establishment. Of course he couldn’t bribe Stella into doing it. There was something about dark leather and long hair that seemed to clash with the buildings white, ornate interior. Mahogany tables that looked freshly polished, the whole nine yards. Briefly, Dex ran his fingers over it; it created a distinct feeling he felt was unpleasant.
Of course, this had to be the exact moment someone entered the space Dex was in, some common area he didn’t bother to care much about. Snapping his head towards the other, he sent them an angry look. “What? Gonna say anything or just stare at me like a dumb-ass?”
If there was one thing David wasn’t doing, it was staring at the other. Or looking at him at all. David’s tactic for navigating the halls of the villa was to continuously stare sullenly at the floor, avoiding eye contact with anyone at all costs. Conversations weren’t his forte, and even just from a quick glance at the other, he’d probably be near the bottom of the list of people David would ever want to approach.
“I didn’t do anything,” David responded immediately in reaction to the angry comment, his first reaction, like usual, being a surge of fear and panic. It was easy, automatic, to press himself a little closer to the wall at his back, but his own reaction also brought forth a surge of annoyance, both at himself and the stranger who startled him. Instead he hunched his shoulders and crossed his arms, still unable to make eye contact, but at least going back to his stubborn glare at the floor instead of letting his eyes dart around the room in search of potential exits. “I wasn’t staring. You’re not that nice to look at.”
It had been a long, pleasant night, and Sebastian was still slightly buzzed when he arrived back at the estate in the early hours of the morning. He kicked off his shoes at the door and walked, zombie-like and with his eyes half lidded towards his bed. The exhaustion was quickly creeping up on him and Sebastian knew that as soon as his body hit the bed he’d be out completely for at least a solid six hours. He didn’t even bother to get out of his clothes, only face planted into the comforter as he started to drift off.
Then, like the incessant ticking of a clock, a sound made itself apparent. A heartbeat, slow and steady, the resting heartbeat of a predatory animal. His eyes snapped open, immediately focusing in on the source: his closet. It was dark, but Sebastian had no trouble seeing clearly through it, his pupils dilating in an effort to catch even the smallest movement. He didn’t say a word, only waited for something to happen.
David hadn’t wanted to come to Italy, and wanted nothing to do with anything involving humans, but when the time came to move, running away and hiding really hadn’t been an option. Since getting there he’d tried his hardest to avoid the humans at all costs, ducking away whenever he caught the scent of any of the guards (or god forbid, the human scientist he knew was lurking around the compound).
He ended up in Seb’s room by accident, driven to the nearest seemingly safe location by the sort of panic he was all too familiar with. He’d been lulled almost into a sense of security because of how long he’d been in his little hiding spot without being found when he heard the front door open, causing his heart to jump into his throat as he waited for the other to get close enough for him to catch their scent. It was probably Sebastian, coming home after a late night, or there was the small chance it was the human scientist who had been tasked with collecting DNA and blood from the supernaturals staying in the villa.
David relaxed when he realized it was only Seb, finally feeling safe enough to slowly open the closet door and come out. He didn’t meet the other’s eyes, a bit embarrassed to be caught in his hiding spot, and just stared at the floor as he quietly explained, “They wanted to take my blood.”
Drunk logic was an interesting beast, how it could go from ‘I’m not having fun’ to murder in the space of a breath. It’d been a few years since he’d seen it in action, a few decades since he’d made leaps of logic that large. Ruffling David’s hair slightly, he only smiled at the brazen question. “It’s a long story. But he was kind of a raging asshole, made Seb’s life generally miserable, almost killed me. He wasn’t a very good guy.” Not that the two of them had tried particularly hard to hide anything from David, they certainly hadn’t mentioned that. Maybe one day, when it was less crazy and David wasn’t drunk, Dex would have Seb explain it to him in full. For now he simply wondered who told him, but perhaps it was a question for a more sober David. “Not everyone has fun at weddings,” Dex started, moving them away from the side-alcove and closer towards the dancing crowd. “But I’d be glad to dance with you, if that’s what you want to do. Your probably going to be a lot more fun than most.”
“So he deserved it.” David nodded slightly, placated by the information. He had been sure Sebastian had had good reason, but it was always nice to have some reassurance. He didn’t want to be caught off guard by any questions again, nor did he want to feel like he was being sheltered from information everyone else seemed to know. “Good.” It probably wasn’t the best topic for a wedding, but David’s head was spinning, and his brain to mouth filter had taken a vacation. “Are you having fun?” He asked. He had assumed Dex would be, it was his celebration, after all, but then he still really didn’t understand weddings. Maybe they were parties everyone just had to grin and bear until they ended. “Yeah,” David nodded again, glancing back at the dance floor. “I’ve never been to a party before.” He was leaning a bit on Dex as they walked, stumbling occasionally. “I think Stella poisoned me. She wouldn’t do that, right? It’s like- impolite.”
Not for the first time, Sebastian felt the nagging sense that he was making a mistake, that he was only fucking up David further. When he’d first met him, he’d recognized something in his eyes, had seen it in the mirror growing up. He’d wanted to give David friends and a family. He’d wanted that family to be him and Dex, but maybe he shouldn’t have been so confident. Maybe he should have tried to find someone more qualified to deal with the kind of trauma David had gone through. He still looks so sad most of the time, Sebastian wasn’t ever sure if he’d helped at all. He paused, finding the lighter and just holding it in his hand for a moment before sighing and going back to where David sat on the floor.
“Of course you can,” he said, crouching down and setting the lighter down on the dark stone that made up the fireplace so he could focus his attention on David instead. “We can all go if you’d like, maybe after the wedding.” Then he gestured to the lighter for David to pick up, smiling encouragingly. It was a pretty simple task, really, so Sebastian wasn’t very worried that anything would go wrong. But even thinking all that, he still mentally cataloged where the fire extinguisher was. Just in case. “Okay, what you’re going to do next is light the lighter and hold it up to that valve right there. It might take a few seconds to catch so just hold it there for a while.”
David nodded, taking the lighter from Sebastian. It was one of the larger kitchen lighters that kept the flame a safe distance from fingers when lit. David preferred it to the smaller ones. “I’d like that,” he replied, giving Sebastian a small, grateful smile. He hadn’t wanted to go alone, especially not if it meant playing the tourist amongst humans. He had been lucky he had met Sebastian and Dex when he had, really. Things would have turned out very differently if he had been left to wander in confusion and isolation.
He pressed the lighter to trigger the small flame, holding it where Sebastian indicated and waiting for the fireplace to ignite. It took a moment, but then the flames burst to life, and David couldn’t help but flinch backwards at the shock of it’s suddenness. Sitting right next to the fireplace, David could instantly feel the warmth it was emitting, which helped calm him down from the slight shock. “Well, I didn’t burn the house down,” David said, pride in his voice as he looked at the fire crackling in front of him.
Sebastian and Dex. What a thoroughly unhelpful answer. It wasn’t paired with any other information about the couple, not even last names. She could have walked up to the wedding cake and figured that much out. Instead she was met with his incredibly obvious statement. “Yes, I’m human.” She wanted to shrug, but kept a poised position. For once she had to admit that she wasn’t in the majority, and even though she couldn’t tell what species everyone was, she could take a guess that they weren’t human. The person in front of her just reminded her that she had a target painted on her back for anyone willing to try. “I know, one of the very special few allowed in the inner sanctum.” Which wasn’t a complete lie. Besides Jude, she hadn’t run into anyone else who seemed to be human. Her guesses could have been wrong, but she hardly ever was. “Sylvia Bellemont. And you are?”
She had been allowed in. Which meant she hadn’t just stumbled into the wedding randomly, but didn’t rule out David’s suspicions that she was a spy. Nearly all of the humans he had met in his short life weren’t exactly sympathetic when it came to the plight of the supernaturals living among them. But there was also the chance that she was one of the rare humans who could be trusted. One that had some stake in the survival of their species. “I’m David.” He tried to relax, to look up at her and make his own nervous fear less apparent, but he had never been that good a liar. There had never really been a point to learning to pretend. “So, uh, what brings you to the wedding? Or here in general, I guess. You don’t speak like one of the locals.”
She very nearly slips at the voice appearing out of the darkness. Perhaps she should have been slightly more aware of her surroundings, but Clara had been focused on attempting to reach the bulb and not slipping at the same time. Apparently more attention could have been paid to the latter, the brunette bracing against the wall as she glances out towards the street to see the guy approaching. “—–” Is he seriously asking her what she’s doing? Does that not seem obvious? Brows furrow slightly, and Clara holds up the bulb, as if that should be answer enough.
“I guess….” It’s clear she’s not going to be able to reach on her own. And while she’s not a fan of accepting help from strangers, she’s even less of a fan of ending up on her ass. Which is more than likely to happen if she keeps struggling on her tip-toes. “Can you reach that? Unscrew it?” She motions to the bulb still in the light fixture.
Looking from the bulb she held in her hand to the broken one embedded in the ceiling above her, it became a bit more clear to David what exactly she was attempting. The area around the coffee shop was dark, though it posed no problems to David’s sight, so he hadn’t been paying much attention to that. A human, on the other hand, would have quite a hard time trying to navigate without artificial light.
“I think I can.” David took a few steps forward until he was standing under the bulb. He reached up to unscrew it, reaching it easily with the few inches of height he had on Clara. It rattled slightly as he took it down and handed it to the woman next to him. “I’m David, by the way. Is the cafe closed?”
“We did a few different things.” She shrugged, taking another drink and letting it sit for a moment. There was part of her that wanted to tell the boring truth, but if David was going to get drunk at the wedding, then she was going to have to poke a little bit of fun at him. “Started with going to a club, you know Dex is a very heavy drinker.” Which should be his first red flag that she’s telling a big fat lie, but she keeps going anyways. “Anyways, it ended up with us all killing a person.” She tried to keep a straight face, but knew that she was cracking, there was no way that they could have gotten away with something like that in this town. Not for a lack of practice on her and Dex’s part; but at least they’d reformed. “Very dramatic, swore a blood oath and all.” Which again, would never happen. She wasn’t sure if she was testing David’s gullibility or how drunk he was, but she laughed at the absurd idea that they’d have done that all the night before a wedding. “You would have loved it.”
David had never seen Dex drink, but it didn’t mean it was out of the realm of possibility. There was always the chance he just saved it for special occasions. Support his own relationship the day before the wedding, if Stella’s description of the reasons behind drinking was to be trusted. And so far, Stella hadn’t given him a reason for him to believe she’d lie to him. So he listened on, taking every single one of her words as if they were truth. “Why?” he asked, frowning slightly in confusion. Murder didn’t exactly seem like a fun party event, at least in his experience. “What’d they do to deserve it?” The question was asked in earnest, David not only accepting it without a fuss, but also assuming there was some justification to make the act moral. Relaxed by the drinks he had already had, David was driven towards uncharacteristic honesty on subjects he usually veered away from. “I don’t like killing strangers.” He started fiddling with the table cloth awkwardly, feeling a bit glad he hadn’t been invited to Dex’s party. It didn’t exactly sound fun, and he’d gotten a very mangled and misshapen pot out of Sebastian’s. “It’s... cruel. I’m not a fan.”
It’s dark, but that means little in relation to actual time. It’s always dark. That’s why their here, after all. What better place for those who can’t stand the light? But right now, it’s darker than Clara would like. The bulb at the front of the cafe has blown, leaving the stoop in shadow. Which would be fine for a business in any other part of the world, but not here. The light in what invites people in, welcomes them from the cold. And stops them tripping, of course.
She supposes it hardly matters now,, since the cafe is closed for the night, but knowing she’s the first one back in the morning, Clara had resolved herself to fixing it before she left. A task that was harder than she’d first anticipated. Even on tip-toes, she wasn’t able to reach the fixture, clawing at the wall to help her balance doing nothing to actually increase her height. She’s by no means short, however it’s clear she’s over-estimated herself. A chair would probably help, but she’s not about to drag one out and attempt to stand on it when the ground is nothing but ice - that’s asking for trouble, and the dark haired girl doesn’t feel like receiving a bruised backside. Nor can she think of anything else inside the cafe that would hold her steady enough to get the job done.
“Come on,” She mutters under her breath, biting her lip as she vainly reaches up again, fingers brushing at the blown bulb that’s just millimetres out of reach.
What David wanted was coffee. He wasn’t the best at time without a sun in the sky to tell him, and he hadn’t bothered to check a clock before he went out. It was cold and the coffee machine in his apartment appeared to be broken (he had really just forgotten to plug it in, but he wouldn’t become aware of that until he returned home later). He was bundled up, trudging his way to the little cafe he had noticed on his explorations, the thought of the nice warm drink keeping him going through the chill of the Tromso night.
When he got there, it looked abandoned, the stranger straining to reach the ceiling the only other person in sight. “What are you doing?” he asked curiously, stepping forward to get a closer look at the scene. It was obvious she wasn’t going to be able to reach, yet she kept trying, as if she would suddenly become just that little bit taller if she willed it. “Do you... need help?” his offer was slow as he was still uncertain as to what exactly she was trying to do. He knew he was taller than her, though, which probably meant he could do something to help whatever predicament had her stretching towards the ceiling.
Winter was settling over L.A. with hesitance. Christmas trees went up and it dropped a few degrees, but the season seemed incapable of truly taking it’s grip on the city. Time didn’t pass the same way when it wasn’t marked by the seasons, but commercial holidays were still set in stone the same way they were across the country. Christmas approaching caused tensions to run high, which caused a decline in common decency. Which was how Elijah ended up fired from the rather nice cafe job he had managed to hold down for the past few months. Things went awry with a dissatisfied customer, and Elijah ended up receiving his last paycheck and being sent on his way.
That had been two weeks ago, and Christmas had come and past. Two weeks, and he still hadn’t managed to find a new job. He was making a meager sum busking, but his savings were quickly depleting. He was getting desperate, which was how he ended up on the doorstep of what looked to be a rather quaint little clinic with an advertisement clutched in his hand. He’d torn the paper off the wall at the hostel he was staying at, the prospect almost seeming too good to be true. Just participate in a series of harmless medical tests and he’d get a few hundred dollars cash. He wasn’t desperate enough to call up his family just yet, even if his sister sent him monthly worried emails, and the clinic looked authentic enough to ease some of his worried, so it seemed to be his best bet.
Pushing his way through the door, he went immediately to the front desk and put the flier down in front of the secretary. “I’m here for the trials? I called ahead, I’m Elijah King.” The secretary just nodded and told him to take a seat, all the while giving him a look like he was searching for something amid Elijah’s rather skinny frame. It was more than a little unnerving, but Elijah pushed that down, taking a seat in the small waiting room.
It was barely five minutes until he was called back, where a doctor was waiting. “Elijah, it’s nice to meet you.” The woman had a friendly, welcoming smile, and the numerous certificates littering the walls at once made Elijah feel more comfortable with the situation. “My name is Dr. Stevenson, we just have to run a few preliminary tests to see if you’re suitable for the trail. Don’t worry, you’ll still be reimbursed for your time today.”
Elijah nodded and took a seat on the padded table in the room. Dr. Stevenson talked him through everything she was doing, though it considered mainly of basic tests that were familiar to him from his time in doctor’s offices as a kid. It was a bit boring, but he’d be getting paid, and it wasn’t like he was having to actually do something taxing. He had stopped paying much attention by the time he felt the prick, the blood pressure monitor tight around his arm. He barely had the time to look down and see the needle before his vision was going hazy, panic mixing with confusion until it all went dark.
~
There was a dull, throbbing pain in Elijah’s head when he rose from unconsciousness, the light pressing against his eyelids hurting more the closer to alert he became. He almost wanted to sink back into the ever pressing darkness, it was comforting in its senselessness. But instead he forced his eyes open, squinting at the bright light above him. He was lying down, he realized, set up like a twisted version of a dentist’s chair. Fear pierced him like a knife, as his memories settled into order. There was a tight pressure banded across his limbs, yet Elijah tried to move anyway. It wasn’t surprising to realize he was strapped down so his head was the only mobile part of him, but it did cause panic to surge through him. He lifted his head up as far as he could without his neck screaming in pain, trying to get a good look at his surroundings. It was white, sterile, and nearly completely empty save for a tray of metal tools beside the bed, and a large mirror across one wall that could only be so people could look into the room without him seeing them.
Elijah let his head clunk back down, a small groan of, “Jesus fucking Christ” escaping him. He wasn’t talking to anyone, as far as he knew he was alone, but he needed to fill the room with something, anything to distract him from the weird horror movie scenario he had found himself in.
He closed his eyes, his attempt to keep himself from panicking working enough that he was only moderately hyperventilating. He wanted to scream, to alert someone to whatever the fuck was happening, but logic reminded him he’d only attract the attention of whoever had put him there. He tried to take stock of himself instead, mentally inspecting different parts of his body to make sure he was uninjured and still had all his limbs. He was covered in minor aches and pains, his wrist burnt like a bitch, he felt like he hadn’t eaten in a week, and his head was oddly cold. It hadn’t seemed particularly important to him earlier, but it came once again to his notice that he could feel his head resting on the surface below him, instead of the soft cushion of his hair. He craned his neck up again, eyes snapping open as he tried to get a look in the mirror at the side of the room. He stared at the mirror, his unfamiliar reflection staring back at him. At some point while he had been knocked out, someone had taken a razor to his hair. It looked horrible and was a sure indicator that he had been out cold for a while, but he was more preoccupied with the purpose of it. When his mind flashed back to the metal tools beside him, he couldn’t help the small, desperate sounding sob that escaped him. His earlier efforts not to panic were futile, he was well beyond that right then, the absolute terror taking over him until all he could do was thrash against the restraints desperately.
His efforts were useless, but he felt the need to do something, anything, to get away from the sick reality of the little room he had found himself in. Flashes of horror movies he used to laugh at, episodes of crime shows he watched late at night with his sister as a kid weren’t helping. He wasn’t trying to escape, not really. He was panicking, terror with no outlet coursing through him, causing him to spasm and make a desperate keening sound.
His head snapped around when he heard the little room’s door open, a nurse walking in and freezing at the sight of him. “You’re not supposed to be awake.” She looked frozen, stuck seeing her patient as a terrified child for the first time instead of just an unconscious form.
“Where am I?” Elijah asked, starting off with a simple, yet important question. His voice was hoarse from disuse, choked from the various emotions still flooding him. “Please, please don’t do this. Please just let me go. I didn’t- I didn’t do anything.” His words were starting to blur together, desperate and scared and pleading. He couldn’t look at her as tears flooded his vision again, so instead he turned his gaze up to the ceiling and all he saw was light. “Please, I want to go home.” His voice was nothing but a whimper now, shaking from fear and repressed sobs. “Let me go home. They’ll be looking for me. My sister- she still sends me emails.” He had stopped replying months ago, but it was his last bit of hope to be reported missing. “She’ll notice. Someone- Someone will notice.”
Elijah couldn’t hold it back any longer, and a sob racked his chest, the shame of someone watching his meltdown not deterring it. Loud, hurried footsteps came into the room, and a man said, “Why didn’t you sedate him?” annoyance clear in his voice.
The footsteps came closer, and Elijah barely managed to get out another plea before he felt a needle piercing his arm, and the whole world once again faded to black.
Her eyes widened as he drank a glass of vodka. Considering how he’d reacted to her correcting him last time, she figure that it was better to just let him go with this mistake. After all it would get him to the same goal as all the shots would have done. And if she wanted to see what he would do being drunk at a wedding, shoot her. It didn’t make her a bad person- just a curious one. “Yeah, you drink and it makes everyone have a better time. Unless you’re a sad drunk.” She quirked an eyebrow at the idea that David could be that kind of person; a few shots in and sobbing that they were never going to find love. He was too young for that. He would have to be a fun drunk. If they got there. “You go to them to show the people getting married that you support their relationship.” She was decidedly not enjoying explaining everything to David. She thought after so many questions she would just get used to it, but he kept asking ones that were deceptively complicated. “Good party, good relationship. Seb and Dex have a bar, so they want you to drink, ect.”
“I’m not,” David replied, even though he had no way of knowing what type of drunk he would be. He wasn’t often described as sad, nor was he considered happy. Grumpy was more apt. He tended to stick to the edges of crowds, arms crossed and scowl facing the floor. He had never been the best at eye contact, and because of that, he always looked a bit shorter than he actually was. There was a rather large chance he’d get drunk and just start crying, but he was stubborn, and didn’t want to be what she obviously considered negative. “I guess that makes sense,” he poured himself some more, accepting her explanation. It did seem a bit odd that Sebastian and Dex would pay for an open bar if they hadn’t wanted people to drink from it, and he was just starting to feel the effects from what he already drank, which was making him considerably more agreeable. “What’d you do at Dex’s party?” he asked, moving on now that he was placated with her answers to his earlier questions. He drank the glass he just poured, more because he felt he had something to prove than anything else.
David’s questions had stopped catching him off guard a long time ago, so Sebastian barely even flinched when he brought up Ireland. David’s filter was about as well developed as that of a toddler’s, which made a certain kind of sense considering his circumstance. “I hope so. San Francisco is wonderful, but I do like traveling and city life be a little overwhelming sometimes.” Not that he really minded it. The city, David, Dex, they’d all been wonderful distractions from everything else Sebastian had to worry about. His father’s pack was mostly-disbanded, scattered to the winds and Sebastian knew many who’d held some form of loyalty blamed Sebastian for the pack’s downfall. And of course, they were right. He just hoped that when the time came and someone sought out revenge, the people he cared about wouldn’t be caught in the crosshairs. Not again.
The fireplace in front of them showed no outward sign of change as David pulled the valve, and Sebastian nodded encouragingly. “A pilot light has gas coming out of it that you can use to start bigger fires. Sometimes they’ll be on older stoves too,” he explained, then started to get up to head back to the kitchen. “Stay right there, I’m going to get a lighter.” They were putting a lot of trust in David, giving him his own cabin filled to the brim with objects he could easily hurt himself with, but Sebastian knew it was a necessary step. David couldn’t live with Dex and Sebastian forever, as much as Sebastian wouldn’t mind that. He had to learn to be independent.
“I’d like to go someday,” David replied, quiet and reflective. He didn’t assume Sebastian’s intention to travel back eventually was an offer to take him with him, but David had slowly been developing a bucket list since he had left the facility. He was finally given the opportunity to live his life, and he wanted to do as much as he possibly could. After being cut off from the real world for so long, every beautiful thing in nature seemed miraculous, and he wanted to see them all. He wanted to make it to the day where the beauty in his memories outweighed the pain. “I’ve seen pictures, it looks very green.”
David nodded at Sebastian’s explanation, sitting back on his heels and watching the empty fireplace. It seemed like it would be simple enough to repeat the steps without Sebastian around, but he’d have to be careful to remember to turn it off when he was leaving the house. There was quite a long list of things he’d have to do now that he was living alone, and it seemed rather daunting to think of them all. Instead, he turned his mind back towards his little bucket list, thinking on the one thing that had occupied his mind since he had arrived at Norway and seen pictures. David didn’t turn around when he heard Sebastian’s footsteps coming back from the kitchen. He kept staring at the fireplace, waiting until Sebastian was close enough to hear him. “Do you think I could go see the northern lights while we’re here?”
Just because she didn’t know either groom didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to the wedding. A party was what she needed, people smiling until their cheeks hurt and pretending like nothing on earth was wrong. Three cheers for the happy couple, endless champagne, and maybe some dancing if the music wasn’t completely terrible. She never could figure out when the timing for that was, mostly people just came up and asked her. But she was isolated, a human invading the party and worse, there was no one to talk to. The first acceptable response was getting completely wasted, and while she was quickly on her way to that, it still seemed remiss to just give up on the prospect of any conversation. Especially with a person sitting across from her at the table. Whether they wanted to be bothered or not, she was going to at least try.
“Been abandoned by your date?” She raised her voice to be heard slightly over the music, a learned skill after so many different events. “Better question- who is this thing for?”
David hadn’t expected anyone to try to talk to him. Starting conversations was never his strong suit, and it was always surprising to him when someone saw him and decided it was a good idea to strike up conversation. He turned towards the voice curiously, and was met with the face of someone he had never seen before. “I don’t have a date,” he replied, frowning. He didn’t know her, and all it took was a slight breeze for him to catch her incredibly human scent. It immediately put him on edge, and he dropped his eyes, not looking directly at her. “It’s for- it’s for Sebastian and Dex.” He couldn’t tell if she was just a random human who had wandered into the venue without knowing the nature of the event, or possibly something more sinister. He figured someone who was searching for information on them all would’ve done a bit more research as to not look out of place, but he wasn’t the best judge of character or intentions. “You’re human,” he finally blurted out, the question of what she was doing here remaining unasked. If she was there for something sinister, then he had just given himself away as decidedly not human, which caused an intense wave of fear to course through him. Fiddling with the tablecloth in front of him nervously, he resisted the urge to get up and get as far away from her as possible.
Catching up with everyone from Altolusso had been excruciatingly exhausting, both from having to give the same speech about how ‘okay’ he was now and ‘no, he didn’t miss anything at all’, but also from listening to like fifty years worth of depressing shit. Catching up with another former pack member, a hand pressed down hard into his shoulder. “Hey,” he said, trying to keep himself from swaying under the hybrids wait. “We’ll continue this later, Sofia. The not-so teenage dirtbag son is calling me.” Softly grabbing David’s arm, barely letting his skin touch the other, he walked with him a little bit, until they found a little alcove away from the chatter and noise. He’d seemed on edge, more than a little pissed and it made Dex feel a little bad for not keeping him closer during the evening. “You okay? I don’t mind dancing with you, if that’s what you want. Or we could ditch, if this is stressing you out to much.”
David nearly whined childishly when Dex took the time to exit the conversation he was having, even more impatient now that he was nowhere close to sober. But then he was getting the attention her desired, even if Dex was leading him in the complete wrong direction. He glanced back at the dance floor, confusion written clearly across his face as he turned back to Dex. “I don’t want to ditch,” David replied, a small frown creasing his face. “I want to have fun. Like they’re all having fun.” He pointed back to the crowd, which was full of smiling faces he didn’t recognize. If he had to bet on it, he’d say Dex probably didn’t recognize the majority of them too. “I wanna be a part of things. I’m bad at having fun.” He was pouting now, and leaned against the wall closest to him. It was solid and steady, and things were spinning just a bit. “Why did Seb kill his dad?” he asked, changing the topic completely. He had been meaning to ask at some point, when the time seemed right, and when he remembered his intent, he blurted out the question without thinking it through.
“Why not.” She snapped, doing the shot almost immediately. After that she just told the bartender to leave the entire bottle on the counter for them. It was going to take more than a few quick drinks for them to achieve anything near the appropriate level of drunk for a wedding. She didn’t actually know what it took for a hybrid to get drunk, she hadn’t found herself in the company of one ever; it couldn’t worse than a human’s. “You do it to relax, I don’t know.” She found herself trying to return to his question anyways, giving somewhat of a more complete answer. But the more she thought about it, the worse it was to explain. There were some things that people just did. “Toast to good health and all that. It’s just supposed to show that you care.”
This time, when the bartender came back, David stopped him and asked, “may I please have a normal sized glass?” It made the man looked perplexed, but he fulfilled the request anyways. When he brought it back, David looked placated. The tiny glass was getting annoying to constantly refill, and Stella’s horror at his initial ignorance on how to drink from it made him despise the little glass more than was probably healthy. He poured himself some of the vodka from the bottle, not filling the glass to the top, but still giving himself a good amount. He figured Stella would look disgusted again if he didn’t down the whole thing at once, and didn’t want to overdo it in the amount. It still burnt when he swallowed, and he had never been reassured it wasn’t poisoned. “So that’s just what everyone does?” he asked, confused. It seemed like an odd practice, but he didn’t know enough about weddings to dispute it. He downed his glass, once again careful to show no reaction. It was getting easier as he got used to it. “Weddings are weird.”
theres a ghost in my mouth and it talks in my sleep
2014, somewhere in suburbia
It was well past sundown when Elijah made his way home, careful not to step on any of the creaking boards as he made his way up the porch of the dark house. If his luck was good, the rest of his family would already be asleep, and no one would notice his late entrance. His prayers weren’t answered, though, and he had barely made it ten feet into the house before one of the upstairs lights flicked on. He froze, hoping that it was just one of his siblings coming down for a glass of water. The creaking of the floorboards got steadily closer, Elijah stuck frozen in the living room to avoid making noise and drawing attention to himself. He barely had time to brace himself when his mother appeared at the top of the stairs, looking tired and incredibly cross.
“Do you have any clue what time it is?” she asked, voice soaked in parental disapproval. It was a tone both his parents took too often with him. They didn’t yell, their anger was a quiet judgement at him not being the perfect son they tried to raise him to be. He skipped church, stayed out too late, did terribly in school, and - to their great horror - he wasn’t exactly saving himself for marriage.
Elijah sighed in response, tension leaking out of him to be replaced by mild annoyance. “It’s 11:30. On a Saturday night. You know you can’t jail me in this house forever, I’m going to be 18 soon.” He leaned against the couch, knowing acting casual in the face of her contempt would serve to further annoy her. His curfew was supposed to be at 9, which to him, was completely absurd. They lived in the suburbs, for god’s sake. He had only been a few blocks over, hanging out with his friends at an empty playground. There was no real danger to be found in their quiet neighborhood.
“You’ve been gone all day.” Now there was a note of pleading in her voice, and the tired tone of one who has repeated the same conversation far too many times to count. “What about your homework? Your college applications? The deadline’s approaching, have you even started working on them?”
Now, Elijah was scowling, and he defensively crossed his arms over his chest. It wasn’t an unfamiliar scene, just as it wasn’t a new argument. Their family worked like clockwork, each member too stubborn to break the pattern. “I’m not working on them because I’m not going, Mom. I’m not putting myself in debt for the rest of my life for a fucking piece of paper. I told you, I’ve got other plans.”
Elijah hadn’t noticed his father come up behind his Mother, obviously alerted by the noise, but his scowl only deepened when he heard the snap of, “Don’t use that language in this house.”
The way things were going, his two sisters would wake up soon, and then they’d be having a cliche family squabble in the middle of the night. And, like always, it’d be completely on Elijah’s shoulders for starting the fight. All he wanted was to make some choices in his own life for once, to get to be treated like an adult.
“I’m practically an adult-” Elijah started, though his sentence was almost immediately cut off by his father. “As long as you live under this roof, you follow this family’s rules. You’re not going out with your friends tomorrow, and after mass, you are working on those applications. Do you hear me, young man?”
His voice was stern, the one he used when he was dead set on an issue. Elijah rolled his eyes, but obediently picked himself off the couch, heading up the stairs. “You’re such a cliche,” he mumbled, loud enough that he knew his father could hear. But they all knew that Elijah had lost the fight, so nothing more was said.
