open: anyone 22+
muse: Willow, 49, she/her, bisexual
connection: friend, one night stand, fling, fwb, significant other, up to you.
"Ah," Willow smiled as she saw their dazed and sleepy expression. She was a morning person. By 8am she had already worked out, answered emails, prepped the following week, and today? Made a full breakfast spread in her kitchen.
Everything was laid out on the kitchen island. "Help yourself. There is also coffee and a pot of tea on the stove. Can I get you anything?" She asked warmly.
"I hope you know, there is no one I would rather spend Valentines with so I was hoping, that if you haven't already got plans, that I could take you out instead." Roman put to his best friend.
A loud snort was the response that Willow received at that and Colm couldn't help but grin as he brought his drink up to his lips. "Are you sure it's not you who has had hit your head? Maybe a lobotomy because I'm certain you know already that my memory is back so there is no way you think flirting with me is going to get you anywhere. That or I've left you with the impression that I earn far more than I actually do and you're attempting to bag yourself a sugar daddy."
“What is this for and are you sure that you’re giving this to the right person?” Lysander sounded a little bit perplexed by the whole situation as he watched them.
Maggie crawled into bed next to her sister, putting the gallon of ice cream between them with two spoons. Maggie didn’t really want to sleep that night, with everything that happened, it got her nervous for the future, while her one eye was staying steady with it’s sight, the other was kind of a mess, and she knew that both of them would eventually be mostly gone. She was terrified that that day would come and she’d be stuck in a situation like that weeks. She stuck her spoon into the ice cream, taking out a big spoonful. “You won’t judge me if I like eat a whole lot of this, will you?”
JUNIE: i can come check on you if you need, it's going to be a long shift but i should have a minute after, before i curl into my bed and sleep like forever.
“Get down!” Marcus yelled across the street, a swing of his arm sending a spell flying past the girls face, catching the Death Eater that had been by her and sending them sprawling backwards into a motionless heap on the ground. Immediately, the stony faced male moved forward, resting a hand on the girls shoulder. “Are you okay?” He asked, face dust marked and a thin line of blood on one cheek where something had managed to lightly nick the skin. “Let’s get you out of here.”
PLACE: A bookstore
TIMING: Way, way back when Milo first became a vampire
SUMMARY: Milo and Willow accidentally cross paths, and realise they both have the power to distract each other from their problems
WRITING PARTNER: @willcwthewisp
CONTENT WARNINGS: None
Milo couldn’t remember the last time he had unironically set foot in a bookstore. After graduating uni, it all felt a little pointless. He had books, though they were at his parents’ house, far beyond his reach now. And reading felt too trivial considering the latest developments in his life. Why would he ever need books? What could they possibly have to offer him? But this evening, against his better judgement, he had been struck by the overwhelming urge to go to a bookshop. To steal back a semblance of the normalcy belonging to his previous life. With Harsh’s constant, and unexpected support, he was feeling more in control than ever before. Though his grip on his cravings remained tenuous at best, he figured he was capable of a short visit. After impatiently waiting for the sun to set, he had hurried into town, slipping quietly through the familiar door. The bell above him rang out, announcing his arrival, and the sound caused a wave of nostalgia to wash over him. Maybe he missed this more than he thought. Once upon a time, before he had allowed himself to spiral, he would come here. His mom would find new books for him to study. His dad would nudge him away from the children’s section, towards the classics that were technically beyond his reading level. If it’s easy, then what are you learning, Milo? You need to be challenged. He could still hear his tone, the exact way he would make not being able to choose his own stories sound like a privilege rather than a frustration.
Drifting through the various sections, taking in the new sounds, and scents he had never been able to appreciate before, it wasn’t long until he found himself standing where his parents used to encourage him to stand. They would search through the shelves, talking amongst themselves to determine which novels were best suited for their son. Even now that he had a choice, he was drawn to the books they had selected for him. Maybe it was a warped sense of loyalty, maybe he missed the simplicity of having every decision made for him. Gently running his fingers along the spine of Great Expectations, he wondered whether Charles Dickens had lived in a world of vampires, and ghosts. Certainly Edgar Allan Poe had to have known about the existence of the Supernatural. It made him want to revisit the tales, search for any hint that might indicate the world had always been this confusing. Finally pulling Great Expectations from the shelf, he turned to walk towards the seating area, completely unaware of the person walking in the opposite direction. He stumbled backwards the moment he saw them, very nearly walking into them. A sheepish grin on his face, he did what he could to hold his breath. Harsh had already warned him doing so would draw attention, but he didn’t see any other option when people got so close. “Shit- I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
Willow was to the point of desperation when it came to finding the book she was looking for. For some unfathomable reason it wasn’t available anywhere that she could find online. Maybe it was simply so popular that most sellers had run out of it, but either way she’d ended up braving the trek to the bookstore after hearing they had a copy in stock. Books were one of the few ways she’d managed to stay sane in her self-appointed isolation, filling her head with stories of the outside world that she couldn’t bring herself to experience anymore. But she should have known going out into public once again was a terrible idea, and that became clear the moment she nearly collided with another being. Her eyes widened in alarm at the severity of the close call, already imagining how she could have sent the young man standing in front of her flying through multiple shelves of books.
“Oh god-” Willow gasped as if she’d been startled at a haunted house, hand clutched to her chest as she took a few, healthy steps backwards to put some space between her and the stranger. “No, no- I didn't see you there either, I’m sorry.” Her nerves had been set on edge by the near run in, and she was doing her best to steady her breaths, trying not to think about the ten million ways this interaction could go poorly if the stranger got too close. “I was just- I wasn’t watching that carefully where I was going, I guess.” A lapse on judgement on her part. She should know better than to walk blindly when she was a walking disaster waiting to happen.
Milo was already tense, doing his very best to hide it. But it made him feel a little better to hear the stranger’s heart pounding in her chest. Clearly he wasn’t the only person who had been caught so off guard, and clearly he wasn’t the only person so panicked by the close proximity. The relief didn’t last for very long though. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the sound of her pulse served as an unwelcome reminder of how dry his throat felt, the new reality he was desperately trying to ignore. Before he could take a further step back, the woman had done so for him, and he watched her curiously, wondering whether she might also a reason of her own to keep her distance. “Are you okay?” He asked, genuinely concerned for her. “No- I wasn’t looking either, it was my fault as much as it was yours!” He insisted. If he had been more careful, as careful as he should be given his current situation, this wouldn’t have happened. But he was already tired of being careful. Was one evening too much to ask for? One evening of reading books in a bookstore like a regular human being? “I, uh-” He held up his copy of Great Expectations, still holding his breath between sentences as though such a desperate gesture might be able to fix all of his problems. “I was distracted too…”
“Oh- oh, I’m fine!” Willow tried to assure, not wanting the young man to think he’d startled her too badly— even if he had done just that. “Are you alright?” she asked out of politeness. He didn’t seem very shaken, but it was only in her nature to ask in return. Forcing a chuckle, she clutched the book she’d fetched to her chest, as if it could protect her. “I think we’re gonna have to either agree to disagree, or just let me take the blame.” She wasn’t particularly in the practice of letting the guilt fall on someone else when it came to situations that involved herself. “Oh, are you reading Great Expectations?” she asked as she took in the title and cover of the book. It wasn’t one of her favorites- mostly because she’d been forced to read it in highschool, but it was still a classic and staple. In her opinion, it had ghosts that weren’t really ghosts, and that was something she’d been drawn to.
Smiling at the woman’s insistence that she really was okay, Milo allowed himself to relax as much as he dared to. It wasn’t easy, trying to find a balance. Trying to stay aware of his surroundings, while also staying aware of himself. He could only hope one day it would become a part of his routine, something he did without even needing to focus. “I am.” He answered quietly. He wasn’t sure how true that was, but he sincerely appreciated the question. “I mean, if you want to take the blame I have a track record of avoiding responsibility.” He teased, laughing quietly at the fact that he was being entirely honest now. “I’m not going to try and stop you.” Glancing down at the book in his hands, he stared at the cover for a moment too long. There were so many childhood memories connected to it that it was difficult to look away from. “I guess so.” He grinned, offering her a shrug. “My parents made me read it as a kid… I’m kind of missing the simplicity of that, you know? My biggest worry being how quickly I could get to the end of a book.” Finally tearing his gaze away and looking back up at the stranger, he realised he had yet to introduce himself. “I’m Milo, by the way… So, are you going to tell me what you’re reading? Hopefully something far less cliché.”
Part of Willow was glad that the young man hadn’t insisted on taking the blame as many people were often wont to do. Generally that just resulted in a tiring back and forth until they found some sort of compromise, or forgot what they were talking about altogether. “Perfect,” she settled the burden of blame with a chuckle, her smile still warm. “Glad we agreed on that as easily as we did.” He seemed nice despite her nearly running headlong into him. Her head tilted curiously to the side, listening closely while he spoke of his parents and books. “Oh- well that’s...sweet in a way. And it makes sense.” She could certainly relate to wishing for a simpler time, often thinking of the days she’d been able to walk free without fear of breaking someone in half via telekinesis. “Books are a good way to forget the world for a bit.” They were her favorite method of escaping behind painting. “Oh- I’m Willow,” she replied quickly, a little embarrassed that she’d forgotten to introduce herself in the first place. “I don’t think Great Expectations is necessarily cliché,” she offered politely with another little laugh before continuing on. “But mine’s called ‘Leave the World’.”
Amused by Willow apparently being grateful he was readily allowing her to take the blame, Milo realised he was genuinely beginning to enjoy her company. His smile only growing as she talked about the ease of the decision, it was refreshing not being seen as somebody argumentative, or petulant, even if the context could barely be considered serious. “It was a pleasure discussing business with you.” He replied, feigning sincerity as he caught her eye. Raising his eyebrows as she called his actions sweet, he wasn’t sure he would use that word but perhaps from an outsider’s perspective his explanation could be seen as sentimental. “Yeah, you could probably call it that.” He admitted, absentmindedly tapping his fingertips against the cover of the book still in his hands. “I don’t know… I hadn’t really thought about it. I don’t even know why I came here really, I think I might be looking for something that’s just... impossible to find, you know?” His old life, his humanity... Realising the stranger was right, his smile softened into an open, and unguarded expression. Books were a good way to escape, however briefly. And though there were no hidden doorways here allowing him to step back into the past, maybe a brief escape would enough for now. If achieving one was even possible. Maybe it needed to be enough. “Leave the World?” He couldn't say he had ever heard of it. “I don’t suppose there are any tips in there? I could use a vacation from this place.”
The younger man’s words brought a laugh to Willow’s lips, and she was grateful for the bell-like sound as she reminded herself how few and far between interactions like this had been. Sure- she’d talked to people in her self-imposed isolation, had even seen a few humans here and there, but there was nothing that could replace the actual company of another living and breathing person. “I hope I don’t have a bill coming in the mail for this business talk,” she teased back. Her shoulders relaxing another inch while she let herself slip a little further into comfort.
The expression on her face took on a more sincere air as her head tilted curiously to the side, a gentle nod of understanding shaking it in the end. “I think...a lot of people feel that way, if we’re being honest.” And she didn’t see any reason not to be. Even ghosts were looking for something that seemed impossible to find. After all, that was why they’d stuck around in the first place. “But I also haven’t met anyone that hasn’t eventually found what they’re looking for. Sometimes you just need help, you know?” That was the job of the medium or exorcist in her mind— to extend that helping hand when someone needed it. “And sometimes the answer isn’t what we expect, but I think you’ll get there eventually.” Another chuckle shook her gently before she gave her answer. “No tips in there unless you’re looking for ways to survive and deal with the apocalypse. But if you’re looking for some ‘vacation’ books I can take you to some of my favorites?”
Milo laughed too, his eyes shining. “I wasn’t going to but now that I think about it my rent is probably due.” He teased, unable to help himself. He could hardly consider their conversation business talk, but he was enjoying it more than he would ever have expected to. Although he liked his time alone, socialising had always come naturally to him. He had no issue with talking to people, getting to know them when their paths somehow managed to cross with his own. He missed this, he missed making new friends. His smile fading somewhat as Willow became serious again, he appreciated her honesty. It made him sad to know what she was saying was probably true, but it also helped him to feel less alone. Sometimes he just needed to be reminded of that fact. “Yeah, I guess you’re right…” He murmured, knowing the sense of relief would be temporary. How long until he convinced himself otherwise? Until his own mind erased Willow’s wisdom? “It’s easy to forget sometimes, you know? Especially when your problems are so… specific.” He admitted, offering her a hesitant shrug.
A smile tugging at his lips again, the mention of hope was comforting, regardless of the fact that everything felt pretty hopeless right about now. He was more stable than he had been, though still not used to his new life, still close enough to his old one to actively grieve for it. “You really think so?” He asked, knowing his longing would be obvious in his voice. He made no effort to hide it, too distracted by the mention of finding answers, by the sound of Willow’s heartbeat, by the book in his hands still reminding him of his childhood. “I really hope so…” Maybe she was right. Harsh was helping him now, and things were getting better. The progress was slow, but it still counted as progress. “Thank you.” His smile became more genuine as he felt a strange rush of affection for the woman he barely knew. Apparently she believed in him, apparently she was convinced one day he might actually be okay again. “Hm, I think tips on how to survive might be more useful to me than vacation books.” He was only half teasing. “But if you’d be up for the company, I’d love to see some of your favourites.”
“Well- you’ll just have to send over the prices so I can get a look at them. My sister’s actually better with stuff like that anyway, so I’ll probably pass them on to her,” Willow chuckled. It was true though. Meg had needed to negotiate quite a few contracts along with her manager when it came to her spot as a blossoming celebrity. She’d missed this as well. Even though she’d always been a little more on the quieter side, Willow had always loved seeing a new smile wherever she could find them. Her warm expression shifted into concern another time as Milo continued to speak of his problems. She might not have the abilities to go along with being a proper medium, but she’d still been raised as one, and along with that came a compassion geared towards helping. “Well if you ever need reminding just message me, alright? I’m easy enough to find on the town forums. My full name’s Willow Finch if you want to search me, though.” Maybe she was coming on too strong when it came to being helpful, but it’d always been hard for her to draw that line. If she wanted to help, why shouldn't she make sure the other person knew it without a doubt?
“Of course I think so,” Willow repeated with another soft smile, already happy to see the smallest flash of hope enter into Milo’s eyes. “I haven’t met a person yet that couldn’t find what they were looking for. Even if it took time. And even if it wasn’t what they were expecting.” The poor guy. She could practically feel the desperate wanting in his voice, could recognize it because she herself was on a seemingly hopeless quest for answers when it came to her own problems with telekinesis. There had to be an end...right? But a smaller voice in her mind reminded Willow that endings weren’t always happy. Nevertheless she brushed it aside, and turned to start on her way towards her favorite section of the store. “Come on- I think we can find some books that fall into both categories,” she finished with a grin over her shoulder.
Milo continued to smile in response to the joke, leaning into the way this woman seemed able to distract him from his problems, if only for a brief moment in time. He could see she was being genuine, that she actually wanted to help, and he wasn’t used to that. Not anymore. “I hope she doesn’t take a cut of the check?” He teased, his smile growing as she insisted she was always going to be there if he needed a reminder that all hope wasn’t lost. It was an odd thing for a stranger to offer, but given his life as of late, he didn’t feel as though his gauge on what was normal even functioned anymore. It had been permanently shattered when he woke up as an official member of the undead. Slipping his phone from his pocket, he held it out to her, encouraging her to plug her name and number into his list of contacts. “I might take you up on that, you know…” Why not? What did he have to lose by making another hesitant friend? “Willow Finch… your name has superhero vibes, has anybody ever told you that?” His eyes were shining as he was reminded of who he used to be, the kid who spent his free time split between the comic book store, and the many questionable establishments White Crest had to offer him. He was still very much that person, but nothing felt quite so simple anymore. He only wanted things to be simple.
His smile fading when Willow insisted he would eventually find what he was looking for, some sense of peace, some way of being content with what he had become, maybe even some level of control when it came to fighting against the bloodlust continually scratching the back of his throat, he was impatient, but he was also happy just to believe that the answers were out there. He would find them, and maybe, just maybe, he would be okay. Surprised when she started to walk away from him, he faltered before hurrying to fall into step beside her, holding his breath as her movement caused the smell of her blood to permeate the air. He didn’t know what she meant by both categories, surely survival books and vacation books were on two very different ends of a spectrum. But he didn’t care, he wanted to understand, he wanted to follow her. Because, for some reason, she made him feel like there was hope, like he existed as more than some miserable outcome, and that was proving to be incredibly rare.
