#int:tales

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╌ ѕaмe тιмe ѕaмe place ; skh & spk.

          [ x seuxhye ]

[ ◕ —  Coffee. He remembered the days when he'd drink said substance accompanied by a book full of flowing sentences and beautifully deep meanings. Coffee was just another item on the long list of things he used to love and now had no desire for. For the past months, he'd been coming to this small cafe blocks from the crypt he calls home. Though, he never came alone. Every time his foot stepped past the threshold of the store a small woman stood by his side. The strange duo were on their way to becoming regulars.

     She was angelic and had a personality that could brighten even the darkest of days. That was something he figured out about her quite quickly. He, on the other hand, could turn someone's bright mood into a frozen daze. Sometimes it was hard to be thoughtful and warm when there was no heart to beat beneath his chest. However the magic worked, she was able to open the soft side that still lied within his being. Perhaps she was worth keeping around. Even a frozen soul like himself needed someone around. Spike was thankful it was someone like her.

     There they sat; on a park bench. The sun set left an orange glow in the sky, slowly disappearing from the darkness the night brought. He eyes glance at the steam emitting from the small hole in the lid of her cup. It must be warming her fingers from the chilled yet light wind. He wasn't bothered by it. Even without his leather jacket he'd still manage against the wind, he was cold-blooded after all.

     "Did you finish that gibberish paper you were reading me the other night?" Seukhye was in University for visual arts and game design, two things Spike newly nearly nothing about. Even though he wasn't all that interested he'd still ask from time to time how her studies were going. Whenever she'd begin to ramble and explain the teachings of her professors and the work she had to complete it'd leave him in a clueless state. 

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"Why am I here? to kill you, of course…"

Interesting, he was. It wasn’t everyday Spike came across a being like the one in front of him. Then again, it wasn’t often that people showed up at his home that had never before met Spike. You see, the man in the room with him didn’t give off a familiar vibe. He wasn’t of human descent, Spike knew this. But what he was, well, it was mystery. 

The question rolled off his tongue as it sounded in his mind. The arch in his right eyebrow grew as footsteps sounding from the other’s shoes. 

"Why am I here? To kill you, of course…"

Oh, how he never tired of hearing that. Years and years and years of people claiming they’d drive a stake through his heart and leave him as nothing but a pile of dust and still here stand, alive as the un-dead could be.

There was only one thought circling through his mind. He wasn’t concerned that his life was at stake. Why? What motivation would this young man have to kill him? Spike’s been a good vampire. Well, in the eyes of humans, he has. Killing his own kind may not look good on his resume.

"I wish I had a bottle of whisky for every time I heard that one." A finger was pointed in the questionable male’s direction. He wandered around the crypt like he was inspecting the place.

"Say, have we met before? Did I still one of your honeys? Were you with a blonde a few days ago? Is that what this is about?" Before the other could get a word in to answer Spike’s question he continued to ramble on as if he were right. "Because let me tell you, you missed out on a keeper. She’s not my type but she sure knows how to please a man. Tongues are God’s gift to women." 

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"Your blood is so pretty."

He was shocked from the beginning that someone like Tiffany would even end up around someone like him. For all he knew, he was the jackass sitting at the bar that everyone tries to avoid. It was his appearance, his poker face, he figured, that scared people away besides the few attention seeking females who needed a little ego boost for the night.

Meeting her outside was an even bigger surprise. That was until the contact made between them left him with blood trickling down his chin. Besides the fact that his lip was busted open by the doing of her swinging hand, he enjoyed the moment they were in. 

"Your blood is so pretty." 

Surprise, surprise. She wasn’t as she appeared to be behind the glass of his TV screen. The beautiful and well-known idol had a twist to her. A rather unholy side. He could not decipher the intent of her words; was she joking? Women like herself are exactly the kind of women that attracted Spike. 

"I bet it couldn’t compare to yours, love." 

His finger swipes the liquid spilling slowly from the opening in his lower lip. 

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"What do you want with me?"

"Isn’t it tiring?" He speaks in a smoky voice. "Running around all day, losing sleep, losing yourself to please everyone else…" 

The entertainment industry created a question mark in his mind. How certain people were able to live theirs lives under the inspection of every living person with an itch for celebrity gossip. He understood the confidence behind whatever gift they wanted to share with the world. He understood well, but if a person is so proud and so willing to put their name out there for everyone to know wouldn’t they at least what it to be under their terms?

Some celebrities worked like that. They worked the way Spike would want to if his gift was acceptable to the public. Somehow, he figured eating their kind wouldn’t fly to well with the press. The idea behind pop sensations was different in Korea, he found. The music was similar in ways but so different in many others. Idols were trained for years upon years to be able to sit in the spotlight, if they were lucky enough to become popular among the genre’s fans.

She was pretty. Gorgeous in fact. The way her hair flowed down the front of her shoulders pulled his eyes into a trance. It was as if her hair begged to be touched, to be stroked. It shined so perfectly. His hands couldn’t resist the overwhelming temptation. As he expected, her hand moved his away. 

"What do you want with me?" 

Good question. What did he want with her? To sit down for a drink, possibly discuss their life goals and whether or not her outfit looked good on her? The first part felt appealing to him but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d turn down almost any invitation he could slide her way.

"A taste, perhaps…" There it was, the sly smirk he’d become known for around the bars he hangs around. Usually he’d mean his sentence and dive in for a snack but with the metal inside his head he was as harmless as a kitten in a cast. "…with you. There’s a bar not too far." At this point, his face was only inches away from her own. He stares into the gleaming pair of eyes, hoping she’d take the bait he set out.

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"Don't touch me!"

It’d been a long time since he’s encountered someone of her kind. It makes him curious. Almost too curious. Spike never had respect for one’s space. His hand is removed from his side and lifts up to run his fingers through the ends of her hair. The strand was soft. It felt like silk. As he expected it to be. 

"Don’t touch me!" She exclaims. 

Spike’s hand is slapped by her own. Clearly her hair was off limits to his touch. Now it was clear that the rest of her was also off limits. Like a human, she wanted to remain untouchable. He finds it cute. Her step back only makes him step forward. He wanted to play. He wanted to have fun. Humans weren’t to be toyed with but there was no real restriction holding him back from having his fun with this angelic face. 

"Pet doesn’t want to play." His lips push outwards very slightly, officiating the smug look that takes over his expression. Confidence over poured from his presence. "I just want to have a little fun…" Ominous orbs glance over her figure. "…is that too much to ask?" As the smirk only widens, his tongue drags along the underlining of his top teeth. Hand dares to reach back up to her hair, twirling the dark silk around his fingers. 

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"Help! Someone help me!"

"Help! Someone help me!"

Like music to his ears it was. How he missed the tune of pure fear spilling from quivering mouths. Days, months, years of his life was filled with sweet, sweet symphonies created by his very hands. The blood was washed but there it stayed, stained along his pale skin. He lived up to the expectations of his kind. He even branded a new meaning to evil under the teaching of his grand-sire.

Now, he be nothing but a vampire on leash. Thanks to The Initiative, Spike’s been living his life blending in as much as he can. They turned from happy-meals to untouchables. He’s become all bark and no bite. Demons, however, were a different story. Though talk spreads from demon to demon, he makes sure they know where they all stayed; in his shadow. His hands could still deliver as much pain as he pleased upon any other-worldly figure. 

"You don’t want to do that." He says calmly, stepping out from the shade. His cigarette grew small over time, allowing him to flick the small bud away. He approaches the two figures.

He had her up against a wall. She was helpless, that much was clear. As his tongue crosses between his lips he squints at the female. Her eyes depict the fear she was feeling. It almost makes him envious of the other vampire.

"Well look who it is. Spike. You know, they’ve all been saying you’ve gone soft, man. Don’t tell me they’re right." 

They never learned. After his stay in Sunny Dale, Spike turned his ways around. Even though he was alone now he still fought against everything he was. Spike’s footsteps continue to lead him closer and closer, watching as the vamp tries to control the squirming woman. “Please help me.” She calls out to him again.

"Let her go."

"Come on, Spike. We can devour her to—" Spike finishes his sentence by connecting his fist to the other’s jaw, sending him falling to his side. She was free. Free to run but there she stands. She stands in her spot, watching the scene play out. "I said, let her go." He hated repeating himself but he found his words replaying quite often these days. 

"You can go now." He tilts his head, motioning for her to run back out the way she’d been dragged in. 

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╌ Undιѕcloѕed paѕт ; wdy & spk.

shuiwan:

Her heart skipped a beat, then perhaps another. Wendy had never given death much thought. Not since the night her parents had died, or that other night. She locked such things away, in the recesses of her mind. The notion made her blood run cold. Somehow, killing was even worse. What she had done, and what Irene had done, were accidents. There was something callous about his tone. He said it, as if they were having a normal conversation. This was wrong. How could he be so casual about something so final as killing?

She stepped back from him, wondering if that was all a joke.

"You…what?”

"I killed her." He calmly restated. The set of dark orbs blink while starring at the girl in front of him. Silence took over the conversation. How else could he put what he had done? His mind had turned cold to thoughts of death ever since his turning. It almost slipped his mind that humans were more sensitive to topics along the lines of one's final breath. 

The thought of his Mother used to make his stomach weak. Memories would flood his mind to the point of driving him in an intoxicated-a-coma. But somehow this time was different. The words just slipped from his lips with such ease it almost worried him. Though, her facial expression only worried him more. He lived his life wanting others to fear him but that was the farthest intention he had for her. If only she knew the circumstances behind the act. 

"She was suffering. She---"

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❝I hate it.❞

This is exactly what he hated the most about himself. As much as he loved drinking himself dry the aftermath of waking up in places he forgot how he got there was annoying beyond compare. Normally, one wouldn’t care as to where they woke up. They’d gather there things and be on there way. As for Spike, well…he had a bit of problem with just getting up and leaving. What his problem was, you ask? Sunlight.

There it was, shining brightly through the window. And there he was, sitting in the most shaded area of the circular library. Of all places he could have wound up he ended up in a library. This won’t be the first time but even so, he still found it strange. Spike’s eyes kept drifting back to the librarian who’s eyes hadn’t left him for a second. She was suspicious of him and she had a right to be. He’s already been sitting there for over three hours. He hasn’t touched a single book. He just sits there. Quite. Alone.

A rather short being comes out from an isle of books and begins looking at the shelves lined along the wall his back was leaning on. He may have been starring for longer than he hoped but since she either couldn’t tell or chose to ignore it and didn’t look back at him his eyes remained glued to her. Her hair was stained blue near the tips. He found the sight quite intriguing.

Minutes pass and she hasn’t move from her spot, still starring at the spines of many books all in a row. “You know,” Spike sits up a bit. “the book isn’t going to crawl out of the shelf on its own.” His words were meant to be taking in friendly way but his expression stayed calm, no smile to indicate that it was in fact only a small joke. Her head turns and her body follows. Her frontal view makes him quirk a brow. 'Prettier from the front' he thought to himself. “I know. I was only looking.” With a gentle nod, she continues to mind her own business and look for the book she was searching for.

"Are you sure you’re looking in the right place? You would have found it by now, love." Once again the female’s attention is brought back to him. That’s the way he wanted it. Forget about the books and focus on Spike, a motto he could live by. "These books aren’t in order but you’ve probably found that out already. Say, do you like poetry?"

The scene unfolding before his eyes felt like something straight out of a movie. Girl’s looking for a book, Boy tries to pick her up with some smooth talk and poetry. That wasn’t what he was going for, no. Poetry was something Spike had an appreciation for. Perhaps the beautiful woman in front of him did to.

"I hate it."

Not the answer he was exactly looking for. He stares at her with a blank expression, unable to tell if she was kidding or not but either way her poker face was brilliant, so he thought.