Vampiric Interdiction

[26] Stranger

“What happened to coming right home, sisienta?”

Though the sky was dark, and the moon was pushing through the clouds, the sun still hung high, refusing to go without a fight — or, like a petulant child, at least not until it was good and ready to. Karolinna pointed out the window at it, a tooth brush hanging now from her mouth. An uncapped tube of polish was held in her other grip.

She took the obstruction of her words out just long enough to emphasize the fact that it was not technically night time yet and once loading the bristles with minty paste, popping it back in, moving it about viciously.

Villahr’s mouth fell open with a mixture of astonishment and amusement. Lifting his hand in front of his face he splayed out his fingers before thrusting them back into his silver locks, free from the usual hassle he held them with. He gripped the back of his neck briefly before pulling straight through.

“You are cutting so close right now you're almost nicking the scalp,” he said with a chuckle.

“Perhaps it’s about time you quite scrutinizing my beautician techniques and go find yourself an actual barber.” Karolinna pulled on a pair of boy-shirts dotted with minuscule little white spots.

“You know I could never do that.”

Karolinna’s nose wrinkled as she mimicked a sulking toddler about to have a tantrum.

“Wish you would,” she mumbled. “You have a lot of hair, and my hands are getting tired.”

Villahr grinned widely. He always loved their little metaphorical spats, and Karolinna’s ability to hold her own against him with each snappy come back, whether relevant or not.

“You mean I’m getting annoying?” he offered, bringing the conversation back to plain speak.

“Yes!” Karolinna threw her hands up in the air exasperated. “So fucking annoying!”

“Where did you go this time?”

“Drinks. That new place on Dicen.” She answered almost immediately, like she had planned her response word-for-word out in her head days beforehand before even knowing this conversation would take place. If Karolinna was not sure herself that that was were she had been she might have even begun to doubt it.

She had only ever been hammered enough to forget her name, birthday and even her residence, thrice — and that was after sneaking three whole two litre flasks of Chilla Loq'or.

Villahr twisted around in the chair to face Karolinna, but not before waving a hand over the dying flame of the candle weeping hot wax onto the surface it sat upon; it came back to life instantly.

“Who with?” he asked, starting with third degree.

“Alone! What? I can’t do that now?”

“Sure you can. In face you go there alone all the time. But you and I both know you certainly don’t come out that way. You go to throw your reel into the freshwater to see what you can hook.”

Villahr couldn't even begin to count off how many have followed Karolinna back here, falling as immediate prey to her baiting. Like lovesick puppies, though Karolinna had no need for a leash.

The elna was almost tempted to walk over to the window and check for whatever poor soul was out there waiting in the cold but dismissed the thought when he looked at Karolinna. She wasn’t standing there impatiently, foot-tapping as she usually did when she was expecting his immediate departure.

If there were someone out there he most certainly would have heard them, whether by their laboured breaths, dangerously irregular heart beats, to the distinctive smell of desperation.