Chloe's POV
I never got an answer to my question, and I'm not sure I really expected one.
My aunt ended up making some cookies as Thomas and I kept her company in the kitchen and picked her brain on what she knew in the area. I'm only half paying attention to the conversation, my mind preoccupied with the wistful expression of that stranger who believes he's entitled to my everything.
My stomach churns at the thought, panic bubbling in my stomach and attaching itself to my heart as it goes to race out of my chest. My breathing escalates and I find myself struggling calm down.
I close my eyes and count backwards from ten and recite my mantra to myself.
My heart is beating, my love is mine, everything else will be just fine.
But somehow it doesn't comfort me like it usually does.
After a few hours of procrastinating and hanging around my growingly annoyed aunt, the sun finally starts to peak over the horizon, spreading beautiful streaks of pinks and oranges across the skies as the world awakens. And sadly, it's my que. Thomas and I get ready to leave after I coyly avoided his pointed gaze for thirty minutes, caving when my aunt loudly mentioned she hasn't gotten rest tonight yet. Knowing I can't hide from the world forever, I head towards the door, my Aunt Venessa grabbing me in for a hug before I go to leave. She leans back with a sad smile on her faces her hands coming up to cup my cheeks softly, her gaze soft, almost heartbroken.
"Kid you have so much love to give, and I would love if you found someone that was worth it. Don't give up on what could be the greatest adventure of your entire life because of pride and stubbornness. That's the way of foolish men, and I refuse to let you be one of them. Follow your gut, but most importantly, your heart. You're always welcome here, kiddo." She tells me with warm eyes and I draw her in for another hug.
She can be a bit of a hard ass, and even a little bitch at times, but most of all and most importantly, she's the only one I trust to accept me for the train wreck I am.
"Thanks, Nessie." I tell her, using the age old nickname I gave her before I could stuff her full name into a tiny mouth.
She sticks her tongue out at me before waving at Thomas and closing the door, the lights shutting off inside only moments later. Thomas and I walk along the streets, slowly making our way towards Revelia's' western border, traveling the main roads between regions the easiest way to get around. When we reach the road entrance we kick our speed up into high gear, racing through the barely lit roads as more and more Supers pass us by, probably going to work, the start of the morning rush.
By the time we get back to the Diamond Row in the PD, the most high value neighborhood in the massive region, it'll be almost seven.
I'm usually already sleeping soundly in bed, but with regret I remember that I can't exactly just go to my room as soon as we arrive, Chandler probably waiting for our report and check in even now. The reminder draws me up short as I realize that I didn't follow up on any leads tonight, some things here and there, but I was completely distracted by that man. My Chain. And I failed to confirm the rumors along with tuning out the gossip that my aunt passed down to Thomas.
I'd rather come back empty handed.
I've never dropped the ball like this before and do it now feels like a failure. After Thomas saves me from some thugs two hundred years ago, give or take, I begged him to bring me to his boss and friend, Chandler, the Incubus-Angel Hybrid that has a spy network hell bent on right the wrongs of the hypocritical disgraced society.
He had no proof I would be any use to him, we had only spoken for a few minutes, he wouldn't have gained or lost anything either way. And still.
Still he chose to choose me, to accept me into his network, into his place of business and home and gave me my own all in one fell swoop. Company, companionship and comfort, all things that I had been ceaselessly chasing since the beginning of time. They were all offered on a silver platter with only the promise of work and loyalty as payment. Never being able to truly articulate feelings of my gratitude and debt, I always did what I could to do everything he asked of me. Even things he didn't.
Like keeping tabs on that ex lover of his, that ,for some reason he won't tell me, he can't bring himself to approach despite the love he has for him.
The guilt along with the panic from the shock of the fucking century churn my stomach as Thomas and I silently make our way back to the PD.
My ears lay flat against my head, tail still and heavy as a stone as we face towards the comfort of sticky perfumes and the over crowded streets that leave you disoriented, if you don't know better. We're only halfway there when Thomas comes closer, slowing down within view to signal he would rather not yell over the wind to be heard.
I sigh deeply, knowing that whether I conceded now, or later, Thomas would get his stupid lecture out. And in one ear and out the other, but he insists on still being heard.
I'm fairly certain that is qualified as insanity according to some human or other.
I slow down my pace to match Thomas's leaping over a fallen branch with ease, landing safely with Thomas on the other side. As we run, the Vampire's pearl white hair glimmers in the late moonlight, the large moon seeming to give him his own natural spotlight. And by all means, Thomas is gorgeous, all Vampires are, his straight slim nose, plump pale pink lips a gorgeously cut jaw, glaring red eyes, lashes any self respecting Super would kill for, and to top it all off, the most luscious, longest hair if anyone I know.
Constantly in the Pleasure District, even being familiar with Thomas after him living there for over two hundred years, many sex Daemons call to the Vamp, wanting to share his bed for even a few minutes, cat calls following him wherever he goes. But the stubborn fool is apparent holding out hope for his Soulmate. His Bond which drives me crazy. He forsook his Clan, abandoned his people, live under Nighty ways and yet, he's still determined to trust in a Goddess and a love that will make him a prisoner for the rest of his days. One of the little things we disagree on. But I keep my expectations to myself, knowing better than to assume Thomas' motives, and wait for him to speak. It only takes him a few minutes to find the words, his tone calming and quiet like a soothing lake at midnight, drenched in moonlight.
"Trouble, we've been friends for two centuries and in that time I've never seen you happy." He says and I immediately go to argue, not knowing where this is coming from and definitely not fucking agreeing. But he continues before I can cut him off. "You've been amused, entertained, distracted, busy, occupied, and maybe even content at times but mostly you're just sad. And lonely. And tired." He challenges me quietly, his gaze facing forward but even now I feel like my closest friend is staring me into my soul and demanding I strip down before him to my core. I always hated the way Thomas forced me to be honest and let my gaurd down. Vulnerability feels like my body is made of paper and the smallest tear or spark will destroy me entirely until there's nothing left.
It's a terrifying bottomless feeling.
Like I hugged a black hole and it somehow got stuck in my chest thinking that maybe I could fill it, the way I, too, needed to be filled. To be filled with love and understanding and compassion.
And I hate that he sees it no matter how good I am at hiding it.
When I don't say anything or storm away, he keeps talking.
I'm glad he does.
I hate it so much.
"I know we don't talk about the past. That's about the only boundary the three of us have." He says wryly with a dry chuckle, a shadow of a smile kisses my lips before it's carried away by the wind that whips through my hair and ears. "But, I've been through what you have, though you could say we were core opposites. Love is something that you create. Like you said before, your father made that choice to not love all parts of your mother because of his bitterness and fears. From my understanding, you wanted nothing more than to be nothing like that piece of shit excuse of a father. And yet what you're doing? This refusal and jaded resentment you're so dead set on carrying is only different on the cover. I'm sure a lot of the baggage contents you carry on your shoulders is more similar than you think, Chloe. Talk to Chandler about it. And try to remember who you want to be. Don't let someone else dictate the way you live your life. Maybe I'm wrong, but I thought that was something you vowed to never let happen again." He tells me, his tone never changing from a calm inquisitive one, simply mulling over the weather or dinner.
I feel something burning within me.
It tastes like shame but burns like fury and I lean into the heat of the anger, easier to get upset at the bold assumptions of off topic scars that still ache when you try to grow.
Even the smallest tiniest bit.
The anger boils over and I find my face wet with tears, the clouds of fury emptying out into a sea of darkness that seems to threaten to swallow me up from the inside.
The tears don't stop and neither do the words Thomas threw into my head before blocking the other side, forcing his message to be heard.
The way he always does.
The truth pierces my heart, but I refuse to admit it, stubborness and a harrowing resentment that has grow into a parasite leeches on my will and my sanity. Tries to convince me that there is comfort in this familiar pain. That, that which is known should not be fear, only fear the things to which are a mystery.
Before he can say anything else, I rush past him, leaning into my super speed as my breath comes out in short gasps, having nothing to do with my stamina.
I scream at myself internally as I race towards the PD, trees blurring besides me into globs of colors.
Thomas doesn't try to catch up and I'm not sure if I'm more relieved or upset. Either way, I keep going, letting the sounds of my feet at they hit the ground drown out the paralyzing thoughts that race through my mind. In less than thirty minutes, the lights of the Pleasure District glisten over the horizon, five minutes more until I'm able to hear the distant sound of people laughing, dancing and fucking with smatters of voices speaking here and there. The familiar sounds of the Region engulf me as I pass through the border with ease and make way way West towards Diamond Row where the brothel sits on the best lot in the neighborhood.
The customers are slowly being ushered out of the door at Blessed Night and I'm almost stopped by a bouncer when I go to slip past the exiting crowd and into the building, but stops immediately when he notices my fox ears. Having such a rare animal manifestation makes it easy to pass through a line or crowd, though same can be said as a con if I'm ever wanting to hide.
I try to keep my mind occupied as I grab a pen and paper from the bar and write down the few things I learned, sealing it with a spell before I send it directly to Chandler's hands with a quick flame.
I sigh inwardly, knowingly a coward, unwilling to look Chandler in the face with shame as I tried to explain why I failed him. And I refuse to hear yet another person give me a lecture tonight. So with my ears low and my shoulders feeling heavier than the skies themselves, I make my way towards the stairs and pass the two bouncers that stand there. Though they're all more like guards, its better for business if they're just seen as business hour bouncers that get rid of rowdy customers.
My apartment is on the third floor, and my steps leading up to my only home are heavy and dragged. I finally make it up and barely manage to unlock my door, letting it swing behind me before collapsing on my couch.
There's a stark silence in my apartment that I don't think I noticed before, and it rings within my ears as I think back to the cruelly accurate words they forced me to hear today. I release a low deep scream into the couch cushions, only feeling a little better afterwards. But of course, good things don't last, my brain choosing the perfect time to remind me that I have to somehow figure out what to do about the perfect stranger that I can't help but hate just the tiniest bit.
Instead of facing my problems head on,I decide I still have a little bit of running left in me, and settle on going to sleep for the day instead.
My problems will still be here when I wake up.
I'm unsure on why I would need to rush to handle them now.
I'm not looking forward to tonight, my only hope is that the information Thomas brings Chandler is enough for him to notice my lacking of. And maybe after the way I acted, the werewolf will reject me himself, unwilling to share his everything with someone like me.
There's no rush for problems that will hopefully solve themselves.
So I go to sleep, and hope that tonight will be different.
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I was going to end this chapter differently but then the introduction seven you all have been waiting for will have felt rushed and I didn't want that. What do you guys think of Chloe and his fears? What do you think of thomas?
Thoughts?
Comments?
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