soft spoken // 1985
Catherine was anxious to see him again. They hadn’t been together in almost six months. After that uncomfortable but interesting night, she and Zadkiel had both decided to part ways for just a little while. A little while had turned into two, three, four months, and then a little over half a year apart. It was merely a blink of an eye for Zadkiel, but for Catherine, who had a timeline on her bloodlust, it had gone by slower than a snail’s pace.
But now the sun had set on their hiatus- Zadkiel had called her that previous Monday, asking her to meet him at their favorite diner. Although things had not ended well between them, at least as well as Catherine would have hoped, she still knew that she could never be upset with Zadkiel for long. If he’d hunted her for hundreds of years and eventually came to love her, Catherine did not doubt their connection for a second. Immortals were much different than humans- distance did not scare them.
The sucreant was seated in a booth in the back of the diner, the leather seats were a bright red, the only light a warm, yellow pendant lamp above the table. Her eyes were a cold brown, having just partaken in a meal beforehand- it always bothered Zadkiel to see her eyes white, and Catherine was attempting to be on her best behavior. Smoothing her a-line, black dress, Catherine looked up and smiled.
