#lance thatcher

[arcadsia]

i am in love with a man with long hair, green eyes, is over the height of 6', is hundreds of years old, isn't human, can shapeshift, is pansexual, has fangs, is dating someone with immeasurable trauma, doesn't eat but could, is terrifying, barely sleeps and can cast illusions

[mydarlingdearestdead]

Craning her neck to reply to some inane comment or another, Katie stumbled into the doorframe. She blinked, attempting a step backward with one hand still grasping the frame. The attempt to maintain her balance failed dismally as the crown of her head collided with the opposite side of the frame.

Bruised and disgruntled, she eventually managed to come to stand before the bathroom sink. The sterile, white ceramic was smudged with permanent remnants of blue hair dye from her late night escapes so many months ago. Laughter bubbled in her chest at the memory- Her parents had taken Lance to some amusement park on the other side of the country, deciding to stay the night with a distant relative than make the drive back in the December night. She remembered Remus swinging their legs against the closed cupboards, stirring the careful ratio with appalling speed. Their laughter still echoed in the eerie, morning silence. The ghost of their breath on Katie's neck, their fingertips in her hair.

She shivered, anxiously returning to reality.

Reaching for her toothpaste, she discovered it was missing. Cursing under her breath, she stormed from the room, yelling, "Lance, I don't give a shit how old you are, I will kick your ass-"

He appeared, bleary-eyed, from the pantry. There was, inexplicably, flour dusted in his hair and jam under his nails. Katie, ever the diplomat, allowed her anger to dissipate as curiosity overtook.

"Did you... Sleep in there?" She asked.

He shrugged in reply, "There're ghosts in my room. Under my bed." Something in his expression made her hesitate.

"Oh, there are?" Katie clicked her tongue. She leaned against the doorway- Thankfully a kinder one than that in the bathroom-, crossing her arms across the chest. She sighed, "I've always loved ghosts... Would be great if someone could show me them. Oh, Lance!" The faux cheer in her voice was enough to make even the most naïve cringe, "You'll show me, won't you? I'm dying to see them."

A smile fluttered across his lips. Meekly, he protested, "But they're scary, Kate."

"More like scared. Of you and me. C'mon. I've got to see this, Lance." She held her hand out to him and, frightfully, he took it.