Jared finally got into his penthouse after a long day in his club. He usually only spent a few hours there, but once in a while his staff fucked up and he needed to take care of business himself. Not that he really minded, he liked being around humans, The moment the elevator stopped and Jared stepped out, the vampire’s hair on the back of his neck raised.
“I know you’re here.” He said as he carefully moved towards the living room, taking off his leather jacket. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. Did you get bored?”
“I try not to make a habit of fraternizing with people like you.”
William quirked an eyebrow, his lip turning up almost imperceptibly. “Is that supposed to be damaging to my ego?” he asked. “Please, you’re not the first person to imply that I wasn’t good enough f–” He stopped the sentence, realizing before he heard it what the words might imply. Reassessed. Tried a different ending. “That I wasn’t worth your time. Because I work in the service industry. Never mind that people like you cannot exist with people like me–”
The rant he was about to enter was ended firmly by the other man putting up a hand, laughing. “No, it’s because you look like a tool.”
At that, William did bristle a little. He had…little use for clothes beyond the simple function of covering himself. A button-down and slacks worked just as well for this conversation at work as it would at a dinner, or a date, or a panel he was attending. Or class, should he ever attempt another degree. “Clothes don’t tell you who a person was,” he grumbled, knowing that wasn’t true. Clothing told you rather a lot about a person. Like this person: very well-dressed, probably wealthy, concerned with appearances. Everything very…trim fit. Meanwhile, this was not the first time William had been called a tool, and surely his clothing choices had varied over those times. Which left the only conclusion to be that it was something intrinsic to him that made him seem like a tool.
Fortunately, that realization only gave him a moment’s pause. “Well.” His eyebrow quirked again. “I do suppose I will have to go on in life, even knowing that a stranger does not want to make my acquaintance on the grounds that his first impression of me was that, I quote, I ‘look like a tool.’ How-ever will I survive?”
“Hye,” the man said.
“Pardon.”
“My name. Hye. Now it’s not a stranger who thinks you look like a tool. It’s a person.” And with that, he walked away, leaving William with the distinct feeling that he had all together missed something.
¡Feliz año nuevo! Lo siento por el retraso, he estado ocupado en el trabajo. Mucha gente ha estado entrando. Supongo que la gente tiene razón cuando dicen que el negocio "nunca muere". Bromas fúnebres a un lado, espero que lo estén pasando bien en España. ¿Como esta el clima?
Aquí en China, estamos recibiendo la reanudación de nuestro propio año nuevo. Es este fin de semana, y vamos al año del Gallo. Estaré visitando a mi familia este fin de semana. ¿Sabes de cómo tienes ciertos tipos de comidas que comes durante el día festivo? Nosotros también los tenemos, y bien ... no puedo esperar para llena mi cara con dulces bolas de arroz y pastel de nabo. Si yo fuera un joven, haría una broma de "nabo para qué" pero ... no lo soy.
No tengo su dirección, pero he incluido un certificado de regalo para comprar un poco de té, es mi regalo para usted este año nuevo.
“Wake up! Wake up!!! You’re having a nightmare!” Kyung honestly didn’t think twice about going to his friend’s place in the middle of the night. He knew what was going to be happening to his friend, the most he could do was be there. The nightmare though, Kyung had hoped to avoid seeing but there wasn’t anything he couldn’t see. His stomach churned as she shook his friend this time and started yelling again for him to wake up. Both of them didn't need to experience this nightmare.
desperate hands reached out to grab onto his bed sheets, his knuckles shifting to a paler tone as he squeezed them. his forehead is drenched in sweat. it’s a new occurrence; a vision sent through a nightmare like state. while he can’t quite decipher the vision as well as he’d normally be capable of, the pain itself as excruciating as ever. no. it’s worse, much worse. his friend’s voice can be compared to lighthouse in the middle of the sea, he can hear them well despite the chaotic nature of the situation yet it’s not enough to bring him back. not yet at least, not until the vision comes to end. gasping for air, exhausted and weary eyes are finally opening after another minute or two of suffering. swallowing back clumped fragments of blood that lingered in his throat, he struggled to speak yet did so anyways. “you’re here?” his body curled inwards, shaking lightly from the intense trauma it had gone through moments before. the skin along sections of his back is broken and tattered, new scars having formed in the process.
