closed starter for @tenebrisarchangeli
Tired; she was tired, exhausted—just; this whole month sucked ass and she could do so little about this. Looking back to April, it seemed that things were getting better, but no such luck for the wicked. At least, not for her. The dark circles under her eyes and the uneven haircut she had delivered to her beautiful, long hair just came to apply emphasis, that she indeed had hit quite the low once more. Hell, she smelled like tobacco and vodka—like some sort of homeless, that clung to their addiction, as the last taste of pleasure in their life.
April now, seemed a distant dream of springtime; she had met Vergil then, they had started going out for tea sometimes, at the usual silent cafe she had first taken him, for countless of interesting conversations, most of the time uninterrupted by duty callings. Generally, she had grown quite fond of his presence in her life, adding a little spice in the monotony of her week. They met at the library too, as if they were having reading-dates. But it just…came to gradually stop after some time.
From showing less and less up to their meetings, to completely disappearing for some time, Valeria had been buried in mudwater that was always stagnant in workplaces like hers; that rich guy, he had become a usual, even though he was beyond abusive with her, crossing even the line of acceptable sadism she could tolerate. It was all starting to remind her too much of her teenage years…But Jared did not give two shits about his whore’s feelings, of course. The guy was paying a ridiculous amount of money for Valeria in specific, and that’s where the discussion always ended up when she tried to talk to Jared.
Just having to endure this was pathetic; many times she had thought of disposing both him and the abusive customer and simply be done with it, but she soon ended up in the conclusion that she would not find a new pimp that easily. It was just a situation she couldn’t really wiggle out of and it had its toll on her mental state. Internally, she felt bad that she had abandoned her peaceful lifestyle; dressing up beautifully every day and going for coffee regularly and catching Vergil at the library on Thursdays and weekends as well…It was not rare to catch herself wondering, what this lonesome soul was doing.
On the other hand, it was better that he wouldn’t see her in the state she was; she did not want him to see the mess of a person she could actually be. Maybe she had begun to like this man a bit, thus giving the best impression every time, mattered to her. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be here, in the library, today, on a Monday afternoon. There were books she had borrowed almost a month ago that she had to return, even with delay, plus pay the penalty for it. Climbing to the second floor, as per the usual, she greeted her favorite librarian, who was sat behind his desk.
The old man seemed surprized to see that she had changed so drastically, yet made no comment on it whatsoever, simply taking the small stack of books she had placed before him. They all were books on plants and crystals, useful for her wicca studies—yet another thing she had not done in a while. Twisting her torso lightly, so that she could reach her postman style leather bag and take her wallet out, her dulled eyes caught onto a familiar set of colours in the distance: silverwhite, blue and golden. It definitely was him; she did not even need to take a better look.
Her jaw clenched, hands as well, as she took the money she had to pay out of the wallet and quickly set it on the desk, for the librarian to take. Hurry up, faster—she wanted to leave this place before getting noticed by his icy, blue eyes…
Days passed -- weeks even -- and he’d found himself on multiple occasions almost losing track of time. When the complex duality of his life on London’s streets weighed on him, he would find an unusual comfort in simplicity. Often he would seek the company of books from the library, art from the gallery, exhibits from museums... Yet lately, he’d found himself in a situation that was becoming alarmingly familiar: Across the table from a human woman with copper curls and a sapphire gaze. He estimated that half of his visits to the library ended resulted in a meeting with Val that more often than not ended at that same cafe.
Sometimes she would be absent and at times it was he who decided not to show. There were times he opted to address business elsewhere or stay at the flat he resided in, the previous resident having kindly donated it in its entirety to him. Well, not exactly a donation - Dead men don’t give freely nor reluctantly - but it seemed as long as there was money paid at the end of the month in their name, no one asked any questions and he could enjoy solitude. He did his homework thoroughly beforehand, after all - For this particular individual, no one would come knocking.
When he decided to stay in the flat, it was more often than not to allow himself blissful isolation: He sealed himself away from the busy streets, crowded sidewalks, and the gall of man. Wounds would discourage him from showing on other days. The evening would be spent ridding his body of foreign items - bullets, teeth, and claws - and washing blood, dirt, and sweat from his body, clothes, and blade. Rarely more than a day was needed for him to regain his strength and energy and the following day or the next he would pay a visit to the library.
Recently those visits had been becoming fewer and far between; Other afternoons he would normally visit the library, he instead used to track demons in human guide or investigate locations in the city. Val’s appearances were scarce these days after all and he tended to stay until close simply for the sake of the tranquility he found amongst the rows of books. Distracted is how he would describe her most recently but he never commented, it was her own business after all. Their conversations would be as philosophical and insightful as usual but he could tell that although her gaze remained fixated on him, her mind’s eye searched and wandered somewhere far beyond where his own could see - thoughts, assessments, and troubles. Still, he would say nothing. She had her affairs and he had his.
Sitting in the usual corner of the reading area, he’d become absorbed in the writings of yet another literary work. It was not a day he would normally be there but he figured it was as good a day as any to finish the text he had started previously. He’d already been reading for about an hour when his eyes scanned over the last line of the final page, a familiar shock of red hair catching his attention of the brim of the back cover. The first observation he made was on the curls of her hair, fire spilling down to her neck and then stopping abruptly - No longer did the waves of scarlet cascade over her shoulders and down her back. The second observation was how they swayed for a brief second, betraying the quick turn of her head away from him. Shoulders no longer covered by her hair, he could see them held high with tension. Cold blue eyes narrowed at her back and he audibly snapped the book shut with one hand. With his long and graceful stride, it took him little time to cross to the librarian desk and come to a stop beside her, slipping the title onto the cart to be returned to its place on the shelves.
† — “ Not quick enough, I’m afraid. ”
The words were spoken in a knowing, clipped tone. He had detected the scent of alcohol and cigarettes from across the room but hadn’t anticipated their source. Val normally was quite put together - Well dressed and clean. This - however - was quite anomalous. The odious scent she carried now stung his nose and his lips curled into a deep frown. It was only through effort that he kept his brow from furrowing in a clear sign of disapproval.
