✩ @uadavenator ✩
Bravo sat motionless in the back seat, watching the dark countryside fly by and letting his emotions boil inside him. Almost 4 months in Montreal, and they’re running back to the states. For what? A liar? A murderer? A fucking vampire?!
Her tried to get the answer out of her, but she’s been so secretive recently that she wouldn’t tell him anything. Well, she’s always been secretive, but only recently has Bravo gotten sick of it. She knew almost every detail of his life, while Bravo hardly had a good time frame put together for the 2 years they’d spent together.
But Valerie couldn’t stand it. She blamed it on the cold, but Bravo remembered. And now they were going back, back to the shitty apartment in Jersey. Back to Isaac. Back to them acting like a happy, normal family. Back to living in the van he just had to hope hadn’t been towed. Back to Valerie caring more about any lying goddamn bloodsucker than the one she called her son.
Jokingly, he had to remind himself. Sure, she cared about him, but she ended up caring for every vampire that batted their eyelashes at her more.
“You’re not mad? Valerie, he lied to you. And it wasn’t some white lie, either.” his tone was coarse, probably one of the harshest he’d used with Valerie. “He’s a vampire. I thought we learned our lesson with Marc-” he caught himself. Fuck, he even had to dance around their own lives to talk to her.
“We don’t have to go to Jersey. We can go to Colorado or Arkansas or Rhode Island or… Somewhere. But don’t go back unless you plan on killing him, it’ll only cause more problems,” he shifted uncomfortably in the back seat, folding his arms over his chest and distracting himself with the fast-moving scenery. “We could even stay in Canada. But thinking is just going to remind how of how ‘human’ he actually is or how you’re in love with him or some crap. He should be dead to us.”
“Bravo, I’m not a hunter.”
She didn’t mean to yell. She didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Valerie took another drag. She cleared her throat, thinking through all he’s said. He thought that she’s in love. Valerie hadn’t actually considered the notion until recently, but the vampirism put a damper on it. She thought that she still does. That was part of the reason she was coming back.
“I don’t kill. When Marcus became an issue,” (An all too light way of putting it), “I called a hunter. We went to the wendigo sighting location, after the wendigos had been killed. I don’t. Kill.”
Again, it sounds more like an affirmation to herself than a statement to Bravo. She wants a drink, her body’s starting to throw a hissy fit without it. The way her hands want to shake, and how a coldness sinks down to her core. But she’s not completely lost yet. She knows not to drink with Bravo in the car with her. Alone, Valerie would have another story.
Valerie pulls off of the highway and looks around the rural streets of northern New York, in hopes to find a gas station or coffee joint. She finishes her cigarette and goes right for a new one, lighting it quickly. She grumbles out the words, tired with herself, Bravo, and all this goddamned driving.
“I need coffee.”
✩ @uadavenator ✩
Bravo held his tongue from questioning why she refused to take matters into her own hands- he didn't want to get in a fight when he didn't have anywhere else to go. Especially not when they had already come this far. He grunted a response to her statement- when didin’t she need coffee.
He stepped out into the cool air and took a deep, refreshing breath. Stretching his legs felt incredible- he walked to the other end of the gas station and leaned against the brick. Usually road trips weren't this unbearable, but the tension between him and Valerie was ever-present, not to mention that she would never let Bravo drive. Even though he's noticed her sneaking vodka into her coffee. He didn't say anything because he didn't want her to get mad or defensive about it- at least she wasn't doing it as much as right after he'd found her.
Either that, or she's just gotten better at hiding it.
He glanced over to where smoke was billowing into the crisp, light-polluted air. Only a couple stars shone through the dark, orange-tinted sky and the blinking lights of airplanes soar overhead.
Giving one closed-in life for yet another. At least in Canada he could be true to himself; in Jersey even showing off his ears could get him culled. His freedom wasn't his own, he followed Valerie like a puppy wherever she went, even if his heart told him to stay.
He sighed and walked into the convenience store, grabbing a couple sodas for himself and using loose quarters in his cargo pockets to pay.
He got in the car first, sitting in the back and spreading himself over her back seats, not being as careful not to let his feet rest on the velvet.
He needed to make a life for himself. He couldn't keep latching onto people like this- he could never get what he wanted or live the life he'd dreamed of as a sidekick for a psuedo-hunter. Simply an investigator. What good can someone who sees problems but relies on others to fix them do?
Nothing. That's what.
