I’m so scared, Owen. Because I know the truth, I know what will happen to us. It happens to me every time. I will use you because I’m too scared to admit how much you mean to me and you will hate me. I guess that needs to happen though, because I am not good enough for you. I’ll never be good enough. I can’t give you kids or grow old with you or love you that way you should be loved. And for the first time in my life that hurts me more than anything else in the world.
“Yes.” Lyra grinned, “Believe it or not, I am.” She shook her head, both joking and serious at the same time, liking the way Owen’s eyes crinkled when he laughed. The blond glanced around once more and grabbed Owen’s hand. Cold flesh met warmth, veins pulsing with blood and life just under soft skin. The vampire ignored the sudden yearning in her gut at their contact and instead led Owen to her small apartment.
Even though Lyra had more money that she knew what to do with, she liked the homey feeling of her dwelling. Large houses felt empty and alone, and brought more suspicions to her than she would like. Nearing the apartment door, Lyra tugged the other after her, smile ever-present. She opened her door, without a key, never needing to lock her apartment. If a human was stupid enough to wander into her apartment, the blond felt that they deserved to learn a lesson.
Dropping Owen’s hand, Lyra closed the door behind him. “Want a drink before story time?”
Like Christmas, Owen’s eyes lit with excitement once she invited him into her world, and his head cocked in curiosity when her vampiric features began to fade. Lyra would not hurt him. The underlying fear—that was initially covered by his over-whelming desire to care—vanished. Interest filled where the fear lacked. And until she spoke again, his fingers twitched, urging him to trace the shade beneath her eyes.
“You are more worried, not of someone witnessing your fang and strength bearing, but of someone overhearing ancient legends?”
“Lead the way. Please,” he smiled shamelessly, gesturing to the large space in front of him.
Taking a step toward the other, Lyra shook her head, running a hand through blond locks. He was curious and not apprehensive to ask questions. It was frustrating and endearing all at once. “I’ll tell you whatever you want, Owen.” She nodded, noticing how close she stood toward him. His intoxicating scent made her dizzy and the vampire’s gaze went to his neck. The soft flesh was exposed, almost calling out to her. But Lyra would never bite Owen. Unless he wanted her to.
The breath sucked from Lyra’s lungs as she struggled to keep her features normal. She didn’t know where the thought came from but, she knew, in that moment, that she wanted Owen. Wanted to feel his body on hers, feel his hands glide over her figure. But she couldn’t let that happen, could she? She was a vampire. He was not.
“But not here.” The blond looked from side to side. “It’s too public. I wouldn’t want someone to find out what I am.”
Despite his body aching from the impact, a small but genuine smile pushed its way up. “I consider that a compliment.” Slight amusement passed from her rosy lips. Owen could not help but wonder if she was on the verge of boiling, if there was a sun bursting with heat and energy being eclipsed by her rain clouds.
Light blue eyes flickered to her agile feet. He took an interested step forward in response before reminding himself to respect her personal space. He rubbed his back for a moment before straightening his posture, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“I do, to a degree.” He rolled his lips and cocked his head. Being the man he was, Owen never failed to ask whatever crossed his mind. Who cared if curiosity killed the cat? “Are you like the stories? Or, rather, are any of them true? There are all sorts of tales these days.”
Lyra sighed, hugging her thin frame. This man was almost as stubborn as she. It frustrated her and intrigued her all at once. Why he decided to care for her was a mystery but, at least, this stranger, this Owen was strong enough to stand up to Lyra. He knew what she was and yet, he continued to fight. She shook her head. “You are a stubborn one, Owen.”
She let out a breathy laugh, suddenly aware of how close they stood. He was pinned against a wall, she was nearly pressed against him, all lean muscle and warmth. The blond would never get used to the difference between her cold skin and human warmth, full of life and energy and possibilities. A breath escaped between full lips as the vampire took a step back. “And you sure don’t know when to quit, do you?”
A relieved exhale fled from his mouth when her grip loosened, and Owen tried to ignore manly thoughts that hardly needed to be described. Half-smiling, Owen lazily looked at the fighter as he rotated his shoulders. Naturally, he was thankful for the simple fact he was still alive, but there was another layer of gratitude. She dropped her trials. For now, at least, she would not argue with him about hopelessness for good. It was guaranteed to happen again. He stretched his neck. Eyes flickering over her fangs and red eyes, he thought of a certain Furie.
He does not fear death. Lyra’s arms dropped, freeing whatever hold she had on Owen and she focused on him for a moment before dropping her gaze. “I give up.” She muttered. “If a threat on your life doesn’t convince you, nothing will.”
The blond sighed, her shoulders sagging, eyes full. She didn’t know why she had tried to convince a near stranger what she believed of herself. Hell, she didn’t know what she thought around him. It was strange, the feelings she held toward Owen but, Lyra didn’t care enough to dwell on them. She met his icy gaze once more. “You can leave now, or stay here. I don’t care either way.”
His arms dropped immediately when the vampire pressed against his chest, an action leading to his back smashing against the brick of a drug store. The warmth and sweet odor of her breath conflicted with the physical pain. He winced. Swallowed.
Arms limp at his sides, Owen searched Lyra’s face, not for humanity, but for hurt. Why the Hell was she convincing herself a falsity? What broke her down bit by bit? ”Dying a friend,” he grunted, shifting his body up under her hold, “is a good way to go.”
Lyra felt a hot breath pass between cracked lips as hunger set in. She brought her hands up and placed them on Owen’s chest, pushing him back to the nearest wall. The blond was inches from him, but knew of no other way to convince him of her uselessness.
Never breaking eye contact, Lyra heard Owen’s heartbeat, felt the delicious rush of blood just under his skin. “You are going to get yourself killed if you keep this up.”
He cringed at the sight of her fangs but looked back at her immediately. Blue crystals locked with eyes of blood, and Owen, the fool, marched up to her and threw his arms onto her shoulders. “No, I can’t,” he stressed.
“No Owen.” Lyra met Owen’s piercing gaze, trying to somehow make him understand. “Do you always think so highly of someone you just met?”
It baffled Lyra that he felt so comfortable around her. It also scared her. It scared her more than she was willing to admit. It’s easiest to be alone, don’t you see? I deserve no one and nothing.
“I am no person, Owen. I am a monster.” She bared her fangs, eyes once again crimson. “Can’t you see that I am a lost cause?”
She turned her head, blonde hair waving in the gentle wind. Rolling his lips in and out, Owen shook his head. “Lyra, you may not be human, but you are a person. There isn’t a reason to care other than you’re important, and I want you to know that.”
“I never said it was right, but I just can’t understand why you care.” She bit her lip and looked away, trying to think of anything that would stop the emotions. Such a flood of emotions was foreign to Lyra but, slowly she was beginning to get used to the feelings, the hurt and sadness but also, the joy. Deep down, Lyra felt joy at the thought of someone caring about her. She just didn’t expect it to last.
Her crimson eyes gaped desperately in confusion, reflecting the feeling to his face. His eyes bounced to her hands as they compressed into balls, not in an attempt to restrain anger, but almost to hold back a storm of tears. She expected him to leave? Ridiculous! “Tell me what is right about it.”
Lyra looked into Owen’s eye, searching for something even she wasn’t sure of. “But why? What would be so wrong about leaving?” She whispered. She was nothing, no one. That sounded clique but, Lyra couldn’t help but think of herself like that. She balled her fists. The vampire couldn’t understand why this human didn’t run from her.
The absurdity of her claim pushed Owen’s eyebrows together and slightly tightened his face. “Nobody was meant to be a monster, Lyra. How can I leave when you feel like this? I am crazy as hell for saying this, and it will get me killed one day, but I can’t just go,” he asserted before exhaling and relaxing his shoulders. “It isn’t right…” Hands at his sides turned as his head attempted to meet his left shoulder for a second.
Lyra saw Owen take a step forward. She wondered why he was still around. She was acting utterly insane. What human would even dare talk to a raving mad vampire they just met a few minutes ago. She shook her head, as if trying to clear the temporary emotion.
“I’ve always felt this way.” Lyra said, matter-of-factly. “Almost like I was supposed to be the monster I am right now.” She was desperately trying to stop herself. Lyra was screaming at herself inside to just stop talking, but she couldn’t. “Enough about me though. I’m sure you have things to do.”
The red in her eyes seemed greater—a watery substance emphasized the small dots. Despite the screaming in his head, Owen took a daring step forward and looked her up and down with empathetic eyes. “You are feeling now exactly as you felt then—alone and terrified you were some freak of nature. What have you accomplished for yourself, Lyra?” he asked gently. A small part of his mind wondered how he came across to her, for he was talking as though they had been friends since high school, and she met him five minutes ago.
“Yes.” Lyra replied, her face showing no emotion. “I’ve known for a long time that something was wrong with me. Even when I was a human, I didn’t, couldn’t….feel anything.” She looked at Owen, her vision blurred.
No Lyra. Whatever you do, do not cry. She held back the tears. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you this. We just met.”
Owen scrunched his eyebrows together. Of all situations, this was probably one he should not have been himself—he should have been petrified from the double threat of death—but no. He had to worry. He had concern. “You kill to show you’re worthy of something more?” Even now, the idea of someone feeling that way hurt him.
“Neither Owen.” Lyra meet his gaze, her hazel eyes sad. “I’m not on a job.” She sighed, knowing that she probably shouldn’t tell him everything but, the blonde wanted to anyway. “I work for myself. I almost trained myself. I needed to see if I was good enough. I need to be good enough.”
Lyra looked at the night sky, counting the stars. “I can’t feel anything. I…I don’t care who I kill, I just need to kill because when I do, I feel a shred of, I don’t know, satisfaction maybe. But I don’t think I could kill you even if someone wanted me to.”
Considering Nadi being a hybrid and Mal being a woman with striking eyes, Lyra being a vampire was on the line of believable. Regardless of that, the title of assassin was real enough.
It was not commonplace for workers of said title to mention their occupations unless there were plans to kill. Classic vampires typically killed every human they talked to. Either way, if Owen was to die, it would be quick, even if he tried to run. The ultimate question, then, was whether or not Owen Alexander was ready to die. His friends knew they were loved; he had nothing exciting ahead.
“Am I the meal or does somebody just really hate me?”
“The job that gives me purpose is being an assassin.” She let that information set in before saying, “And I am also a vampire.” She let out a heavy breath. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Especially for a human.”
“Well, when I’m not killing people for money, I am killing them for sustenance.” She looked at Owen, expressionless. It was easier if she told him the truth, that she was a vampire, a monster. “I bet now you want nothing to do with me.”
“I think everyone understands it. It can be a little hard to talk about it, is all.”
Owen loved having philosophical and thoughtful conversations with people and found it amazing when he could do so right off the bat. “You have to take it one step at a time. A job is a nice beginner,” he agreed.
“Exactly. It’s nice to meet someone that actually understands.” She looked up and let out a breath. Lyra didn’t understand it but, something about him made her trust him. “I guess we are all just trying to find something to do to make our lives meaningful, to give it a purpose. A job helps.”
Setting: Outside, Lyra's apartment; June 10, 2012; three o'clock in the morning
Summary: Owen meets Lyra. She reveals her nature and expects him to leave. He stays. After retreating to her house, Lyra answers Owen's questions about vampirism.
About Characters:
Owen:
Owen loves having philosophical and thoughtful conversations. Stubborn, he believes everyone is important and monsters are made. He takes off his shoes before entering another's house.
Lyra (cold-indifference):
Lyra is an assassin and a vampire. She practically trained herself; she works for herself. Claiming to be emotionless, killing brings her satisfaction.
owenalexander:
cold-indifference started following you
"Hello."
cold-indifference:
“Nice to meet you too, Owen.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m Lyra. And how are you this fine day?”
owenalexander:
“That is a lovely name, Lyra. I’ll have to look that one up later. And I am well; thank you. How are you?”
cold-indifference:
“Thank you.” She grinned, “You are quite the gentleman.” Lyra let out a breath. “I’m fine. I recently started a job, which is a nice change from the nothingness I was experiencing.”
owenalexander:
“I try to be.” He looked down for a moment, as if some thoughts laid on the floor. “It’s always good to occupy yourself. Things can get pretty destructive if you let your mind free.”
owenalexander:
Architecture. It was an art form. Inhabitable art that always cocked Owen’s head in amazement. When the vampire pulled him toward the old fashioned building a few blocks away, he studied the shapes and angles of stone and metal, eyes soon scanning the windows. “Is this how you charm your meals?” he teased as he stepped into her house. A small smile quirked as she dropped his hand. He took in the quaint living room and removed his shoes. “Tell them you’re a sexy assassin vampire and invite them into your dream-like home?”
"Alcohol? No, thank you, Miss Lyra. Perhaps some tea?"
Her hand stilled, tangled in his hair. She was utterly baffled. Did he mean laugh again? Really laugh like she used to before everything happened? She wasn’t sure if she could. But for a reason the blonde didn’t want to admit to herself, it seemed easiest to laugh like that with him. Eyes meeting his gaze, her voice dropped to a whisper, “Do what?”
Owen’s laugh was muted as his eyes were mesmerized. She had yet to smile like that. His trance was broken by her hand in his hair and he let out a distracted chuckle before wetting his lips. “Do that again.”
Lyra let out a laugh, genuine and easy. “Really?” She smiled a real smile, one that reached to her hazel eyes. “I actually believe that.” She reached her hand out, ruffling Owen’s dark locks. “Little Owen and his teddy. You know they were named after President Teddy Roosevelt?”
It was a note he had been keeping for months. At least with Lyra, there was some type of goodbye before she vanished. His texts and calls were left unanswered, and the couple times he knocked on her door when in town had no result. This note, though, left him fulfilled. She would come back. He had no guesses as to when or how, but his little teddy bear assassin would see him again.
♕ - —; "Hello there." Maka stood, smiling at the stranger. She held her books under one armpit, using her free hand to lean on as she placed it on her hips. "Are you new to the DWMA?" She asked.
As usual, whenever he was performing he often forgot about his surroundings. He’d breathed fire, juggled torches, and everything in between, and was just finishing up his act by eating the fire right off of his torches, extinguishing them one at a time. With the taste of smoke still in his mouth, he turned to see a young woman approaching him, her slender fingers sifting through his hair before he could do anything about it and her soft mouth on his own. Eyes fluttering shut, he returned the kiss a little bit stunned, but his lips couldn’t help but pull up into a smile. Only after they had broken away, he licked his lips. “What was that for?” He asked, as if amused.
The blonde laughed, softly biting down on her lip. The reason, she wasn't entirely sure. Maybe the look she saw in the other's eyes, the one that matched her own, maybe she thought he needed a surprise, but whatever the 't reason, Lyra was drawn to the man who played with fire, the one who didn't seem to have a care in the world.
Intrigued, she couldn't pass the opportunity to leave an impression on him. With a shrug, Lyra returned her hand to her jeans pocket. "A performance such as that seemed worth more than spare change."
