Eyes fixed on a passed out Stephen, Ester observes him closely. With her elbows rested upon her knees, she can’t help but take in the sight of him— both surprised and unsurprised with how much has changed in the past few centuries. Certainly, his modern attire and appearance was a shock. When he had first answered the door, Ester had taken no time to absorb her reality before shooting him in the leg with a wooden bullet, rendering him unconscious. Now, she had all the time in the world to soak in her life’s mission coming to its most beautiful end, however... it was almost too much to take in— too good to be true, even. And so, the brunette gets to her feet, heeled boots clicking along the floor as she fetches a good ‘ole fashion rope from her suitcase. With her lips pressed together, she comes to a squat and ties him to the chair she placed him in, eyes fixed on his resting features.
It was strange, to finally be in front of him after all these years. Ester had dreamed of this moment for a very long time, and although she was sure she had nothing but hatred for the man sitting before her, she couldn’t deny she was feeling more than just that. Stephen Lica had ruined her life, whilst simultaneously enriching her entire being. Although Ester had accepted her new life years ago, she couldn’t let go of the man that turned her... leaving her to figure out immortality and life... all on her own. They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and as much as the vampire would love to be the bigger person, nothing in life drove her more than finding Stephen just to put him out of his misery. Revenge fueled Ester, not peace.
Taking a seat on the coffee table across from him, the brunette begins playing with the dagger in her left hand, half of her attention spent mentally going through the different devices she had brought just to torture him. (Because killing him... just wasn’t going to be as fun.) Checking her wristwatch, Ester notes he’d be waking soon... as she practiced such an act many times on various vampires before. While the vampire wouldn’t exactly call herself a killer, per se, she knew she couldn’t run into Stephens home without a plan. After finding and confirming his location, Ester watched him for months, planning this moment by the minute, with much practice. After all, doesn’t practice makes perfect? Tilting her head to the side, she notes him beginning to wake, sitting up straight as she greets him with a devious smile. “Good afternoon, Stephen,” she greets calmly, crossing her legs. @saltinewrites