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When day met night

After losing his pack in the brutal way that he did and being subjected to severe emotional trauma, Elijah never fully recovered, try as he may. He still struggled socially and in most other aspects of his life; the quiet made him lonely, and busy areas made him just as much so. It was a change that had taken place over a span of three years or so, setting in slowly, but he no longer acted with a pack mentality or drove himself crazy when trying to make his own decisions. He had adjusted, for the most part, to living alone and surviving on his own, and while it wasn’t his first or ideal choice for a life, he tried to stay positive, telling himself that ‘it could be worse.’ He’d heard many stories, and met many other wolves who were forced into solitary living due to various circumstances, and none of them had been as fortunate as himself in terms of financial stability. They’d been forced to live on the streets or join other packs, where they would be treated like an outsider and scorned, forever an omega. In general, he’d always thought other wolves to be some of the best company, but they would always revert to their feral roots when dealing with newcomers that they disapproved of. He never wanted to find himself wearing their shoes.

As he usually did, Elijah spent his day alone, doing some shopping in the book store, attending his appointments at the bank, and then, finally, going out for lunch. He’d been on the fence about cooking something at home, as he was a pretty great chef, or going out, but in the end, he’d chosen convenience over effort and found himself sitting on the outdoor patio of a small Hollywood café. He eventually decided that it was a good idea that he’d made the decision to eat out, because not long after his main course had arrived, he heard a commotion coming from inside the shop; a woman screaming, another person frantically dialing a number that he recognized to be ‘911’ from the tones that he was picking up, and another coughing. Choking, rather. It normally wasn’t like him to involve himself with other people, but the doctor in him was always easily persuaded to lend a hand in a medical emergency.

Pushing his seat back to allow himself to move from the table that he’d been seated at, the cloth napkin on his lap falling to the floor, Elijah strode swiftly on Italian leather shoes through the back doors of the café, heading over to where a small group had gathered around a young, blond male. One guy was behind him, trying to give him the Heimlich maneuver, but his fists were too far up on his chest to possibly do anything at all, aside from perhaps bruising his breastbone. “Move,” Elijah instructed, waving him urgently away with a gesture of his hand. “Excuse me, move,” he repeated, pushing his way in as soon as he saw the stranger stepping away. Leaning over the boy, whose skin was already beginning to turn pale and blue, he looped his toned arms around him, positioning his balled fists properly, just below his ribcage, but above his belly button, and exerting a few small, quick bursts of pressure to dislodge whatever had been trapped in his patient’s airway. Sure enough, he coughed it out and began gasping for the air that he’d been deprived of, the color returning to his face—not that there had been much color there to begin with. Looking at him now, he didn’t appear to be in the healthiest of conditions.

“Atta’ boy,” Elijah praised him, giving the male that sat in front of him a firm pat on the back and a squeeze on his shoulder before he squatted down next to him to get a better look at his face. Clearing the area of the crowd by waving his hand and instructing them to leave, thinking that he’d want some space and the courtesy of not being stared at, he then spoke to him. “Are you alright?” He asked, his English accent thick and very apparent in his voice now that he was speaking in full sentences.

“That was a close one. What were you doing? Trying to see if you could eat like a snake?” A faint grin began to show on his face. “They can get away with swallowing things whole, but you can’t, you know,” he teased him playfully as he glanced over at the large chunk of food that he’d coughed up. He wasn’t sure what type of guy he was, if he was the type to laugh when things got grim, but he was simply trying to lighten the mood and make things a little less scary. He’d learned that in medical school.

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#ofpolaroids #starter #closed starter #elijah x leo

We’ve Got Company

The weather had been acting up all week, with brief periods of rain here and there, but in general, the skies had remained cloudy and the sun hadn’t shown its face all too much. It made for a rather gloomy atmosphere in the small town, even to Brielle, who some people assumed loved ‘spooky’ settings, simply due to the fact that her house was situated in a cemetery. On the contrary, she loved hot summer days, the scent of fresh flowers and the sound of birds chirping, and her home up on the hill was especially cozy during the warm months. In the winter and fall, it could get a little eerie, especially when the fog would roll in and the hooting of owls and cawing of crows could be heard, as it was like a scene straight out of a classic horror movie, but it was beautiful if one took the chance to look at it like she did.

As she’d suspected, rain began to come drizzling down once again during her trip into town, despite the fact that she’d tried to think ahead and go in early to pick up the groceries that she needed for dinner in an attempt to avoid getting wet. Her father was busy in the morgue, finishing an embalming for a funeral that they would be hosting the next day, and she’d wanted to surprise him with something fresh and homecooked. Of course, she wouldn’t eat it herself and she had no way of knowing anymore if what she made was genuinely tasty or not, but she still liked to putter around in the kitchen sometimes. With a frown, Brielle looked up at the sky just as she exited the town’s small grocery store, a droplet falling on her cheek and another on her eyelid. It wasn’t as though she especially hated rain, as she sometimes found it to be rather relaxing, but it wasn’t pleasant when her makeup was done up and it wasn’t waterproof. Making haste, the blonde tightened her hold around the paper bag in her hands and hurried down the sidewalk.

Passing the outside of the motel, Brielle’s steps came to a slow, her attention caught by the male that stood outside of the building. She’d initially slowed because she didn’t recognize him and she was wondering who he was, but a longer glance had her noticing the distress on his face. “You alright?” She asked after she heard him cursing to himself, her blue eyes, turned bright green due to the contact lenses that she was wearing, looking him up and down. The story that she’d gotten in return answered her question, and because she felt bad for him, she offered him a place to stay. “Uh.. Yeah, well, I’d be pissed if I were you too. That sounds pretty damn shitty. You can stay at my place if you want to though. I’ve got a couple of extra rooms.”

If she was being honest though, she mostly just wanted another person to make dinner for, as she felt that she was a pretty decent chef and she liked to show off sometimes. Besides, whenever she cooked, the fridge always had leftovers in it for days afterwards because her father was never able to eat it all.

“I live a few blocks down,” Brielle began to explain, wondering for a moment if she should tell him right away about the fact that her home was located behind the gates of a giant cemetery. Nope. “A few blocks down and then up the hill. I walked down, but we can take your car so that you don’t have to leave it on the street,” she suggested, tucking some of her blonde hair behind her ear before offering her hand to the stranger, a friendly smile on her face as she walked with him to his vehicle. “I’m Brielle, by the way. Brielle Bennett.” She shook his hand politely and then returned it to the rather heavy bag that was in her arms. After their introduction, she was giving him directions up to her mansion, an old building that sat atop a hill, overlooking the town and the vast area of cemetery ground that surrounded it. “Turn in the gate here,” she instructed him, gesturing to the graveyard entrance and nodding if he questioned her on it. She guessed that he would be a little skeptical, as most people were. “Just keep going straight and then turn left at the fork. My house is at the top of the hill there,” she added, pointing at the top of it as it was seen peeking through the bare trees.

Once there, Brielle had him park the car and then she led him up the front steps and into the home, the front door creaking as she pulled it open. Despite the outside looking slightly decrepit and worn-down, the inside was well-cared for, albeit the furniture was old. It had a Victorian-esque theme to it, and in general, the place was far more cozy than it was spooky. Most people were surprised to find that out, as they tended to judge the exterior first. “Welcome,” the blonde offered, slipping her wet jacket off and hanging it on the coat rack, her shoes following suit as she tucked them away on a small shelf. “I’ll show you to your room first, but are you hungry? I was going to cook something up for my dad and I, and I’d be more than happy to make a little extra if you wanted some,” she explained as she led him up a large wooden stairway and then down a hallway, gesturing to a bathroom on the way by. “Bathroom is there if you wanted to get a shower,” she commented, before stopping at the end of a hallway and opening up a door to a cozy bedroom.

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#ofpolaroids #brielle x leo #th; we've got company