it was a peaceful morning, dawning gray and cool with a light mist hanging over everything. the air was crisp and the smell of rain seemed to pervade every corner of this little beachside paradise. this was the kind of beach home that john used to dream about, the kind that he used to want to whisk helen away to once they were married. of course, that dream was long dead and helen was long gone from his life. this home now represented healing and new beginnings, an attempt at a fresh start free from blood and monsters. it was john’s own little piece of paradise, a place for him to rest his mind and the shattered remnants of his soul. the former ripper had fallen into a daily routine in the last couple of years. he would wake early, throw open the windows if the weather allowed for it, and shower before moving to the kitchen for his breakfast. he often cooked himself some form of the traditional english breakfast, depending on his mood for that morning, and settled in with his paper and his tea. it was a simple routine with very little deviation from day to day, something that was monotonous to some but comforting to him. even the few people that he had some sort of friendly connection with in town knew better than to bother him during this time, all of them becoming aware at one point or another of druitt’s fondness for his routine. that fact was why it was so surprising to him to receive a knock on the door. a scowl formed as he sat in silence, waiting a moment to see if the knocking would stop and the offender would simply leave. his annoyance rose as the knocking persisted, becoming even louder and more insistent. he dropped his paper to the table and stood up, wiping his mouth with his napkin before starting for the door. “i’m coming, i’m coming!” he called out as he drew closer. a twist of his wrist unlocked the door and he yanked it open, only to find himself staring at the last person that he ever expected to see grace his doorstep. shock and annoyance warred for dominance before his features settled into something more unreadable as his gaze slid over her. “darling, you look quite well for someone who’s been dead for the last eleven years.” despite his best attempt to keep his tone neutral, annoyance bled through his words. he had gone out of his way for years to avoid helen, her sanctuary, and anyone else even distantly connected to the entire thing. john had fought tooth and nail to find some semblance of peace, to grieve, to deal with the pain and suffering that he had caused over so many years. and now here helen was, barging into his life and shattering all that he had worked so hard for. “i take it that you’re not here for pleasantries?” ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that told him to just slam the door in her face, he stepped to the side to invite her in. “if you’re in need of an attack dog, i’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. i’ve retired from that particular lifestyle.”
@flyingupward liked for a starter from john!
