The way he said her name felt like sandpaper as he weighed the taste of it upon his tongue. Part of her almost lashed out, almost entirely blinded by the fact that he’d never come to know how precious something as simple as the girls name was, but she was also offering up pieces of her life without giving too much away. And even she couldn't damn him for that. Afterall, it was her way of ensuring that no matter how much she held out to him within her open palm, it would never be enough to cause enough harm to matter. After so many years - decades, even, it was the only way that Leah knew how to remain in the present, while also, subtly, living in limbo that an immortal life would forever encapture.
Hues flicker upwards in an instant as he asks for more and it coils around her heart and squeezes, barbed thorns threatening to pierce their way through if she doesn’t give him something. But he isn’t a threat, and Leah knows that. Although she was, for all intent and purpose, purely human sitting there in that diner, she’d been around long enough to know she could reach out with a singular claw and carve a wound in his throat so deeply that he’d bleed out in a matter of minutes. It’s just a question though, and Leah has to reminder herself of that a few times before her gaze softens just enough to no longer be clouded by the need to keep everything close to her chest, “I don’t know,” she mutters, brows knitting together as she mindlessly drinks from her straw, “They tried to figure it out, but they never did… Said it was just some freak accident,” What she’d suspected, and she was constantly talked out of, was that it was set by something other than natural causes. Magic. The feeling of spiders crawling hot across the back of her next, and a voice echoing quietly in the cavern of her ear wasn’t something she’d ever forgotten, nor the figure within the flame. She wasn’t crazy, no matter how many times her brother and father swore to her there was nobody else in the building. “or whatever.”
Please stop., she pleaded, somewhere in the back of her mind as she decided she didn’t want to talk anymore, choosing instead to focus rather intently on how quickly she was now getting through her shake. One glance, and she already sees Rosie setting about making more - there was nobody else inside the diner, bar a few stragglers who were clearly more interested in their coffee intake than a milkshake. Does fire shift all of us like that? “Fuck,” it’s muttered beneath her breath, in something of a raspy laugh, “Your alpha really didn’t teach you shit.” And somehow, Leah is quick to believe that the responsibility of teaching him something now falls into her lap as Rosie brings about the next two shakes. Briefly, she thinks back to the night she’d attacked and bitten Hunter, and the guilt she carried for it even now. Despite not being the greatest role model in the world, there’s been at least some effort made to offer up any kind of advice that might keep the other alive. Whoever had ripped innocence from Wyatt between their maw clearly hadn’t put much weight into guilt. After almost a century, she only wished she could be so carefree - even if she’d perfected the art of pretending. “Right, well.. No. Not exactly. Fire isn’t really something we have to worry about anymore than anyone else.” It still burned, and scarred and killed. Smoke still filled their lungs in an attempt to choke. “You were bitten, weren’t you? I figure you’d probably know at least something if you’d grown up born this way.” Unless his parents really were fucking assholes - not an improbable possibility.“It wasn’t the fire that made it happen, or well..-- maybe in some roundabout way it was, but usually when we’re born this way and not created…” Try as she might, it was always difficult to talk about this kind of thing without giving listening ears something worth listening to, and the longer she thought on it - pausing to chew at this inside of her cheek, the more irritated she grew. What, the asshole in the trench coat at the end of the counter was going out her? It settled a slight growl in the back of her throat as she lent in a little closer to the table between them, “The moon dictates what happens to the ones like you,” if she was correct at least, “And me? It’s usually an emotionally significant event that makes it happen.” And maybe that was the most heartbreaking thing of all - something so significant would stick around to haunt each and every one of them, until they took their last breath.
A crushing thought, that most of them felt their heart break well before their body ever did.
Two Months Earlier...
Moonlight Mysteries, a little too trite for the Frenchmen, but the forum did offer a wealth of information that just could not be passed up. It was after all where he'd first got the evidence that had brought him, his sister, her husband and their children to Newfane. Of course only with his sister privy to the exact reason as to the why. As much as he might've approved of his sister's choice of life-partner, he had sworn her to secrecy on the matter, just as their parents had once sworn them to, before their own untimely and violent deaths. Tied to their métier by blood of their distant grandfather, Jean Chastel, Olivier and his sister, Alizée had given up more than just time in the pursuit to rid the world of something truly monstrous.
He looked at the latest speculations or whispers as he liked to call them, reading, analysing and casting aside ones he deemed fictitious. It was hard sometimes. Annoying really, to have to sift through all the fiction, and worse, the naivety of people who had a deep fascination and desire to become one of the very beasts he hunted. He knew they had no real idea of what it was like to come face to face with one, but still they almost disgusted him as much as their own gross obsession did. They were as sick as the people who sympathised with the likes of Charles Manson or Ted Bundy. And if he hadn't just accepted a coffee from his dear, younger sister, he'd have felt the urge to spit.
Scanning for a common phrases and words, Olivier found himself pausing at the mention of a flower. Something foreign. Something weed-like, that had recently been introduced the Washington area and some of the forum users were suggesting it was making Werewolves turn without the aid of a moon. "Olivier, mon frère.. we're heading out for dinner, you sure you won't come?" He thanked her, but waved her off, this rumour needed verification, because if it was true.. their world was about to get even darker.
Present Day...
Some freak accident. He found himself once again back in Bakersfield, tending to a wound that had miraculously healed almost completely overnight. As he ignored his mother's voice drifting in from behind his closed bedroom door, he focused on the news report detailing a tragic accident that claimed the life of a young senator's daughter. The report omitted any mention of Seb or the other attendees from the party, perhaps because they were deemed undesirable—a motley crew of outcasts unlikely to attract much attention. A part of him had hesitated to accept the finality of his friend's demise so quickly. Yet, even amidst the fog of pain clouding his mind, he couldn't deny that the nightmare he thought he had dreamt last night had become his new reality.
He'd have forced himself to break away from the memory, if she hadn't made it clear she no longer wanted to be trapped in her own; at least with him lingering about. Instead, he stayed there and shrugged his answer back to her, "let's just say all I know about whatever the hell this is, is that he considered it a gift to him and the rest of them. He used my mom's life against me and manipulated me to help convince people to come to his 'Full Moon' party once a month." He looked up at her eyes, pleading with her to understand him, "I just wanted to keep her safe. I didn't want to hurt anyone." But, he had, hadn't he? A kiss, a bit of weed, and an homemade pamphlet to his Alpha's hunting den. And then, once the moon hit its peak, he had torn into their flesh, just as a few months earlier one of his new 'brothers' had torn into Seb's. "I'm sorry you had to lose her and than yourself all in the one night. It doesn't seem fair, but what about this does?" He stole a glance at the clock on the wall, remembering when the movie was supposed to end and seeing that their time was nearly up, "we should probably get back." He was kind of hoping Jeremy had taken the moment to slap a wet kiss on Kelsey's lips, so he wouldn't have to spend the rest of the night explaining to them why he and Leah, hadn't come back after he'd followed her outside. He didn't like his chances, as he took out a few rolls of cash he'd shoved into his jeans earlier and left them in the middle of table. Enough for both milkshakes and decent tip for Rosie too. He might've not been very rich, but his mom had put herself through nursing school waitressing and he wasn't about to shorthand the memory.
Stopping just short of the front doors of The Curtain, Wyatt reached out and took up Leah's elbow with a few of his fingers before dropping them almost as immediately as he had, "I'm not going say anything.." You know, just in case there was even a slither of doubt in her mind that he was about to go off and tell Jeremy and Kelsey about her complicated, fragile past. Watching as the doors to their cinema opened up from behind the glass of the entrance, Wyatt stepped around her and walked back inside, crossing over to Jeremy and Kelsey and their curious but also confused faces. "I'm not feeling the best.. can we go?"











