@thexkeith-crane : Moving thread from Skype to Tumblr.
Everything seemed entirely surreal, a dream-like state that seemed as if it would shatter apart if she looked too closely. She was free. Free and home, and she should have been ecstatic, but she'd found it hard to settle back into the rhythm of 'normal' after....No, she wouldn't even think the name of the place. The first few weeks had been a whirlwind of resettling back into the regular world. The minutes she'd stepped foot back on New York soil - or concrete, rather - Azalea Hawthorne had set out to get the three most pressing tasks taken care of: Get a job, find somewhere to live, and, most importantly, get her dog back. That had been a teary reunion on both of their parts, Klaus first seeming shocked to see her and then whimpering as he'd licked her from head to toe. She'd managed to find a small apartment to call her own. It was a bit shabby and out-dated, but a vast improvement on the cells. She'd also found a job teaching ballet and contemporary at a local studio until an audition panned out.
In fact, she was at a concert for her studio that evening, coaching and supporting her students as they performed for their families and friends. There were faculty pieces here and there within the program, and Azalea had performed a brief original piece, but for the most part she spent the evening rushing around backstage, offering words of encouragement and praise, fixing last minute costume or hard disasters, and calling queues for the sound board. She was in her element.
Something felt off, however. On her way to the theatre that evening she was absolutely certain she'd felt someone watching her, following her. Each time she'd looked over her shoulder, though, there was no one there. She'd chalked it up to lingering jumpiness from...The Institute, or guilt for leaving Key--No! Shaking her head, she stopped the thought before it could form. That, by far, was the most difficult part of leaving that Godforsaken island. There was very little she missed, but him...that was a sore spot she wasn't sure would leave for a while, and that vexed her greatly.
After the show, Azalea stood in the lobby of the theatre, speaking with the parents of her students between little girls running up to hug her legs. She was crouched down on her heels, giving one of her younger students a proud hug when she felt it again. Eyes on her.
Keith's departure off the island had taken place rather suddenly, perhaps even without so much as a warning. But with Grace's own exit and the many dreadful events taking place there, he had felt his own days become of less and less importance..to the point where soon, the he had found the need to take a time off too. He had cleared up all things. Left the club in good hands whilst he found himself a room in New York..and then, one day, without knowing it, the vampire had ..ended up in the theatre.
It was that night..amongst the endless crowds of people gathering out front, that he had first caught a glimpse of Azalea Hawthrone again. It was almost too good to be true. The years had somewhat graced her and yet, she looked most beautiful..grown and without the usual anger that always used to plague her whenever she was around others. That night...he had almost reached out to her..but something, A wish to investigate a little bit more about her new self, perhaps, had prompted him to wait.
And wait he had, for days at a time..until he could somehow weaver his way into the building, and at last, he had followed her. Managed to hide himself long enough to surprise her. It was after a show. One which he hadn’t missed, just like countless others since. He had stepped out, dressed in one of his good old tuxedos and a proud smile, when he saw the brunette embracing one of her students. No wonder she had heard him, though perhaps, he thought, the best was yet to come. “So this is where you've winded up. I have to say..not what I pictured..but impressive." he huffed, hands in his pockets as he pretended to look around, "Hello darling."
Keith had been a phantom nagging at the back of her brain ever since leaving The Institute. He was there on the pages of her journal, her own handwriting detailing her misadventures with the rake-ish vampire who'd somehow - god only knows how - managed to wheedle his way under her skin. Her regrets regarding her time at The Institute were few and far between, but he was one of the things...the largest thing, if she were honest with herself, that she regretted. She regretted leaving in the way that she did, leaving a note rather than having the courage to speak with him face to face. She regretted the missed opportunity to experiment with letting down her guard. These strange emotions warred with her innate stubbornness...and her fears.
The woman was under the impression that she'd never see the vampire again. She thought her thoughts were safe and she'd have well enough time to work through them and put them away in a neat little box in the back of her head as she did with anything else that felt too heavy to face. Never in a million years did she think she'd look up, a little girl in a pink tutu tucked tightly in her arms, teacher mode in full swing to find a tall, dark, and thoroughly vexing familiar figure standing before her.
"What the actual fu--um," she caught herself before she swore in front of her student. "Caroline, sweeting, I think I see your mummy over there. How about you run over and let your adoring fans tell you how well you did?" Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, warm and sweet as she got on the little girl's level. Her beaming smile matched the girl's before the little thing giggled and ran off. For a moment, she watched Caroline go, running until she was scooped up by her mom and they fell into excited babble.
"Now then..." she squared her shoulders, rising from the ground as her palms smoothed down her skirt around her knees. Azalea turned and faced the vampire, her smile faltering in a mixture of disbelief and entirely unattractive open shock. And in that moment she was at a loss for words. She wanted to ask why the hell he was in New York when he'd made a comfy place for himself at The Institute. She wanted to know how he found her. Most of all, she wanted to know why he cared enough to find her.
Instead, she let her ice-blue eyes waver to scan the room of excited parents and students, a faint tight smile itching at the corners of her lips. "It's honestly not what I expected either. But I've alway enjoyed teaching, and it's working well in the interim between auditions and discussions with ballet companies." Finally, she looked him straight in the eyes, holding back the urge to smirk. She remained reserved, her confusion at his mere presence at the theatre enough to keep her more emotional reactions at bay for the time being. "To what do I owe this visit, Keith? Do I need to file stalking charges with the police?"
