The Creation (Book III)

(1) Present: 2024

                                                                        Present: 2024

The blasting of some horrible scream-o music startled me in my bed, nearly causing me to kick Leon across the room. He sat up and looked at me, his dark eyes filled with panic when he saw how startled I was. I forced a smile and ran my fingers down his back. He calmed under my touched and rested his head again my arm, his eyes on me the entire time.

“It’s okay. I just have a really crappy roommate,” I soothed, pressing my lips to his head.

His golden hair was soft to the touch, and he loved it when I ran my fingers through it. My smile always seemed to calm him, though he could tell it was fake right now. My thoughts were too occupied with the date.

“A hundred and four years,” I murmured aloud, stroking his face gently.

Without so much as a knock, my bedroom door flung open, causing the metal door to smack against the brick wall behind it. I scowled at my roommate.

“We have a shift in twenty minutes! I thought you were up an hour ago!” Joanna groaned, already dressed in her uniform, to my surprise.

Leon scurried off the bed and landed on his feet, his claws making a scratching sound as he pranced by Joanna. “You scared him!” I accused, jabbing my finger at him.

Joanna crossed her slim arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame. “I can’t believe you let him sleep in your bed.”

My lips pulled down into a frown. “Why?”

“He’s a dog.”

I sighed and slumped against my bed again. Tonight I didn’t want to deal with anything, let alone this conversation again. Joanna found it weird for me to basically give up my bed to Leon, my golden retriever. Yet she has two dogs in her room. Yes, they sleep on a separate bed, but I see the way she cuddles them. She’s a softy, even if she refuses to show it. You should have seen the way she acted after our cat, Marshal, died two years ago. She was slamming doors for a week. “He’s my dog,” I replied, having little interest in the subject. “I think I’m going to call in sick.”

Her lips twitched in amusement. “Do you honestly think that’ll get you off the hook? They know vampires don’t get sick, Lucy.”

I groaned, burying my face into my red pillowcase. “Tell them it’s my feed day or something.”

The bed dipped to my left and I could smell a light scent of smoke by my face. It was Joanna’s scent. It was almost identical to the smell of a campfire, though not quite as intense. Everyone has their own individual scent, mostly natural smells. One person years ago told me I smelled like cherries. That thought caused a sharp pain through my heart.

“Are you okay?” she asked lightly, placing her hand on my shoulder awkwardly. Comforting someone wasn’t one of her strengths.

Slowly, I lifted my face from my pillow and looked over at her. Joanna’s face rarely showed emotion. I think she preferred it that way. Maybe in her mind she thought it made her appear fearless and dangerous. Right now she had a speck of concern in her chocolate brown eyes. Even the small amount of concern was touching. “It’s our anniversary.”

Confusion swept over her face. “I’m sorry, but I don’t usually celebrate friend-anniversaries…” she replied as she stared at the wall.

A laugh, loud and short, burst from my chest. “I don’t mean us. I mean…” I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t get his name to slip out of my mouth. It was just a lump in the back of my throat.