𝔈𝔞𝔯𝔩𝑦 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔍𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝓘 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔞 𝑦𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫, 𝓘𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝑦 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔴.
Lydia found herself singing an unfamiliar tune as she pulled her purse strap into a more comfortable position. Darkness swallowed her entirely upon leaving the brightly lit restaurant and heading out into the dank wet city streets illuminated poorly by flickering lamps. The words danced in her mind and brought pictures to life that she had troubles discerning at specific points.
𝔒𝔥, 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢, 𝔒𝔥, 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢, 𝓗𝔬𝔴 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝑦𝔬𝔲 𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔄 𝔭𝔬𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫 𝔰𝔬? 𝔏𝔞 𝔡𝔢 𝔡𝔞.
@decentspotofviolence
There was a change in features. Bumps and fangs. It was different than what she’s come to know, but in regards to vampires she was glad to know very little firsthand. From the corner of her eyes Lydia caught a familiar sight and stopped dead in her tracks. It was Spike, her fears became harder to swallow down as she blinked over in his direction and prayed to whatever higher power would listen that whatever came of this — she would be spared. Previously there was no violence circulating his aura, but now she was piecing together images from what she assumed to be his past and it was a sickly overwhelming task. Had this been a door opened by the vampire Drusilla? Is this what she had made her leave for? So many questions left unanswered, but as she stood there face to face with the blonde vampire she gently ran her tongue over her lips and loosened the grip on her bag should a defensive be needed. The melody kept spinning throughout her inner workings and finally “Spike,” Inching closer it only became clearer that her former conclusion was rational though she hadn’t know how exactly. “I didn’t think I’d run into you again so soon.”
