News of the Fairchild downfall was spreading like a wildfire, giving hope to some while others were left feeling worse off than they already did. The land was shrouded with death, uncertainty, and fear. Every day now, it seemed. Nonetheless, the death of any vampyre was one of the best things that could happen for the other species. The plague wasn’t a curse for anyone who didn’t particularly like vampyres. Leighton having blatantly raised a glass toward the television screen whenever the news came out. As a nephilim, she was not considered much of a target compared to full blooded angels, who were constantly getting poached and sold. Still, Leighton saw her kinfolk as both angels and humans. She was relieved that Evelyn’s death meant one less vampyre to poise danger for her friends or family.
Although, Leighton would be lying if she said she wasn’t glad she was half angel instead. With no wings nor precious and pure angel blood, the nephilim was not really hunted prey in Queen’s Valley. That was a straight up miracle, if you could call it that, since so many people were getting picked off. She wasn’t caught in the chaotic fray. She could find relaxation in knowing she wasn’t going to be poached or sought out in a menacing way in general. Selfish? Perhaps. But who wouldn’t feel even the slightest relief at being safe from something like that? Anyone who thought otherwise was lying to themselves. That was the real bullshit, not selfishness.
Maybe I should have stayed in Bellesea. A common and quite appropriate thought nowadays for the redhead nephilim. Leighton left her homeland after eventually outgrowing it, deciding to move on. She found herself in Queen’s Valley a few years ago, but how ironic that she moved to what would become the most messed up, disintegrating city ever. The opposite of her home city.
Nearly every bar or club or establishment had the news channels on, every one of them seeming to be focused in on the Fairchild tragedy. That was sarcasm, if you couldn’t tell. After having played a few rounds of poker with some other nephilims in the backroom of an old bar, Leighton’s feet had carried her over to the bar counter, where she set her sights on a friend. “Asi.” The woman greeted the familiar angel. That was the thing though, wasn’t it? Unbeknownst to Leighton and most likely anyone else in that establishment, Asriel wasn’t exactly a pure-blooded angel. Yet his façade of parading around as one never gave Leighton any sort of suspicions.
She smoothly slipped into the empty spot beside him and rested her elbow on the counter, turning slightly so she could more easily face him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You know, since all of that went down.” Leighton murmured, raising an eyebrow in thought as she nodded in gesture toward the television. It was all about the Fairchild family. Her green gaze narrowed slightly as she eyed the poised anchor talking about the incident as if everyone didn’t already know about it.
Why Asriel was here, in this bar, was beyond him. He studied the building’s façade with a careful eye, pools of midnight water searching for any evidence of danger. He snorted at that; danger lurked around every corner. The shadow that was his constant companion shifted, sliding against the building’s brick wall at the corner of his eye. It twisted and morphed, unseen by all but Asriel himself; it flowed over brick and stone like ink, pooling against the cobblestoned ground to form the shape of rather large gargoyle thing. Asi couldn’t describe it properly, for when he turned to inspect it, it misted away, melting into the shadows of the natural world. Gone from sight – for now, at least. Though Asriel longed for the visions to disappear entirely, they rarely left for more than a short period – a few hours at most. They came back; the shadowed visions always came back, no matter what Asriel tried. His dark gaze shifted back to the entrance to the bar, skimming over the neon lettering that served as the bar’s entrance sign. He knew the name as well as he knew how to fly – pros of having an eidetic memory, he supposed. See the sign once, make your way to the bar once, and you never forget. Ever.
With a hefty sigh, he stepped off his perch on the sidewalk opposite the bar. He could hear the music from across the street, could hear the raised voices and laughter that often filtered from the establishment. Why he was here was anyone’s guess, though it likely had something to do with the sickening loneliness that had begun to settle over him like a clinging film. It was better – safer – for him to be alone, and yet nothing he told himself could shake the feeling. So here he was, seeking some sort of companionship from faces he knew as well as his own, but faces that belonged to people who would never know the real Asriel. Only the mask he showed the rest of the world. An angel; nothing more, nothing less.
But that wasn’t the truth, was it? Far from it. Asi swung open the entrance to the bar, blinking past the scented wave of alcohol that struck him across the face. Most of the people here would likely be drunk by the end of the night – not that he blamed them. Perhaps a lot of his problems would be solved if he drowned them in alcohol, but he was wise enough to know that getting drunk would only bring about a good deal of more problems. As if they sensed the presence of other people, the voices in his head rose in volume, whispering and hissing.
Kill them! Destroy them! Drink their blood!
Asi locked his back teeth and shoved the voices away as he moved towards the bar. He sat down and ordered a drink. The bartender inclined his head in greeting and went to fix Asriel’s order – whiskey. As the half-angel, half-vampyre sat nursing the drink, the whispers in his head grew louder.
Asriel ground his teeth, working his jaw back and forth as he systematically worked to push the voices aside. He switched his attention to the television just above the pair, watching absently as the anchor rattled off the night’s news. Evelyn Fairchild had finally succumbed to the plague. He blinked once at that. It had happened a few nights ago, but it was still hot news apparently.
Another voice broke through, but it wasn’t one of those in his mind. It was a familiar, feminine voice; his dark gaze cut to the side as an old friend came into view. A wry smile crept across Asi’s features. “Leigh,” he rumbled in greeting, tilting his head to the side. She took the seat next to him, and Asriel shifted his rather large frame to make room. At over six feet, he was quite the imposing sight. She continued speaking, cutting her gaze to the television to make a point.
He shrugged, though the movement caused a cramp to assail the muscles of his back. With his wings carefully tamped down by the mesh trap that kept them hidden, it wasn’t entirely obvious that Asi was a full-blooded angel. The side-effect of the mesh trap was that it caused the muscles of his back to seize up painfully and cramp. He longed to let them free, but it wasn’t safe. “It’s good to see you, Leigh.” He waved down the bartender, ordering another drink for himself. He glanced at the woman next to him. “You want anything? I’ll pay for tonight.” It wasn’t often he saw Leigh, despite that he considered her a good friend. Asi didn’t venture out often, so it was quite an occasion to see her.
Queen’s Valley came equipped with an array of different clubs and bars all along the city and the coastline, some friendlier to certain species than others. The one they were currently in normally didn’t see the likes of vampyres or even half-breed ones. It was more of a human or angel establishment, that one was. Leighton mostly found herself there on nights like this. Sometimes she desired a good, strategic game of poker while other times she just wanted a drink. Sometimes both, like that night. It was different this time around, though, since she would apparently have some company instead of wallowing alone at the bar. It was true that she and Asi didn’t always have the pleasure of seeing each other all the time. Life would get in the way and they’d be busy with their own things. She was glad the streak of separation was over. It was a relief to see a trusted face.
“Honestly, that would be great. Thank you.” Leighton was pleased with the proposition of getting a drink, giving him an appreciative smile. “I’ll have what you’re having.” She decided, glancing briefly at his glass. “Whiskey, right?” Leighton guessed and smirked gently, flashing him a teasing look. Nothing out of the ordinary with their interactions, merely two friends having a drink downtown. A nephilim and an angel. There was no issue with that pairing being friendly acquaintances. It wasn’t like Leighton had a demon residing beside her. Although the night was still young, as they always say. Leighton was not oblivious to the whole mythology of demons, though. She was quite aware of their mental conflictions, but she always had the mindset that every demon turned out dark and evil.
She was currently ignorant to the fact that Asriel would be the one to change her opinions.
Leighton hadn’t realized she had gone silent for a minute, mulling over the callous acts of violence that had been ruining the city. Of course, the city had always been ruined, perhaps. All of the recent events had merely added to the destruction. “Does it concern you?” The nephilim absentmindedly muttered out her thoughts in question, blinking a few times and releasing a thoughtful hum. Her eyes studied Asriel again, wondering what was going on in his head. If only she knew. If only she had even the slightest clue of the darkness conflicting with within his heart and soul. “That you could be taken?” Leighton continued, imagining yet another friend of hers being plucked into the death grip of vampyres. “I know that’s sort of a ridiculous question. As an angel, of course you’d be concerned.” She let out a forced and humorless laugh.
But she sighed soon after, looking wary. “I’m just making sure you’re being careful, that’s all.” The nephilim finally admitted. Tightening her jaw, Leighton ran her fingers through her hair and there was a hint of mild frustration plastered on her expression now. “Friends have been lost because of this and I don’t want you to be the next victim.” She huffed, rubbing her forehead and having to suppress an exasperated groan that was threatening to come out.
Leighton shrugged her shoulders and gave him a warning look along with a frown. “I don’t want to see your face on the news.” She muttered cautiously, glancing briefly at the screen again. It was an ongoing affair. The channels would usually show photos of people who had been taken or shown up dead due to the plague, the human children being abducted, or the poaching. At this rate, everyone was used to seeing any of those. Rarely did they see any normal human type of crimes showing up in the media nowadays. Mere human crimes didn’t seem to be important anymore. It was all supernatural; all of it being a grander extremity in danger.
The voices that were continuously urging Asriel to unleash chaos upon the innocent patrons of the bar were quieted some by Leigh’s presence, as if she chased them away. It was a relief for Asriel; continuously tamping down the whispers was tiring. The dark presence within him stirred slightly, as if awoken by the churning voices within Asriel. Asi often referred to it as his demon, as if it personified whatever darkness his heritage had passed onto him. It was like the darkness had its own mind, own personality; it was a living entity, a pulsating shadow that thrived on Asi’s inner conflict and turmoil. It drank in the strife, drank in the despair and grew stronger. It lifted its head, studying its surroundings as though it was selecting its prey from those gathered. Asi took a swig of his drink, and the dark thing settled down again. Alcohol didn’t tamp it down for long, merely quieted it – along with the voices – for a time. He had to be careful, though; getting drunk wasn’t a good idea. If he lost control, if he forgot why he had to hide his true nature… well, it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. As if it sensed the possible bloodshed, the dark thing stirred once; Asi’s gums ached as though his fangs were longing to be released.
Leigh had fallen silent for the time being, absorbed in her own thoughts. What was she thinking of, Asi wondered? Surely she did not have such conflict within that he did. He wasn’t a particularly experienced person – didn’t have an overabundance of friends, or a lot of time spent socializing – but his instincts were generally good, and he doubted that Leigh’s inner discussion was as… twisted as his was. He’d asked his father about the voices once when he was a boy; had asked whether everyone heard them. Kjorn had given his son a strange, worried look before he offered a comforting smile to the boy. He’d told Asi that everyone could hear their own voice in their head; it was how their soul talked to them, he’d said. Asi didn’t elaborate, but somehow he’d known his father only meant one voice, while the young Asi had meant many. Leigh wasn’t a demon like he was. She was just a Nephilim – normal, compared to him, sad as that may sound. Surely Leigh only had one voice. He envied her that; it must be… so quiet, so peaceful, in a mind like that.
Kill her, the dark voices hissed. Tear out her throat and drink her blood and steal her power! Eat her heart!
Shut UP! Asriel snapped, throwing his rage into the command. The voices hissed, but fell silent. Asi blinked, realizing that Leigh was talking to him again.
“Does it concern you?” she asked him. It took Asi a second to realize she meant the death of Evelyn Fairchild, as well as the situation in Queen’s Valley. “That you could be taken?” He snorted to himself. Him, taken? It was possible – his wings were far different than most angels’, considering their brilliant coloration. To take his wings would be quite the prize and would look quite fetching on someone’s mantle. He could almost picture it – his thirty-foot wingspan, stretched elegantly across someone’s fireplace, majestic and glowing in the fire’s light. His blood would be useless. Despite his wings, his angel heritage did not include the healing properties within an angel’s blood. His half-vampyre nature canceled out that gift; his blood would seal no wound, heal no disease. Asi’s only prize, then, were his wings – and few had ever seen them. Some might even doubt that he even had wings. It was entirely possible that Asi numbered among the Nephilim. Leigh knew otherwise, but even she hadn’t seen his wings.
Did the angel hunters worry him? No. If ever someone were to try and capture him, Asi would do whatever was necessary to escape – and that meant unleashing his demon. He ran his tongue along his teeth.
“I’m just making sure you’re being careful, that’s all.” Leigh fussed with her hair, looking both concerned and frustrated. He blinked, surprised at the warm feeling that swelled in his heart. It was nice to have someone other than his parents worried about him. His mother was currently holed up with the other vampyres of her family, and his father was holed away in their home, desperately searching for some cure to the plague. Asi was on his own – or, at least he’d thought he was. Leigh seemed to care enough to worry about him; he quirked a smirk at that thought. “Friends have been lost because of this and I don’t want you to be the next victim. I don’t want to see your face on the news.”
He huffed, taking a swig of his whiskey. “No,” he told her. “We certainly don’t want that.” He gave her a wry smile. “Don’t worry too much about me, Leigh. I’m more trouble than I’m worth to the hunters.”
”Don’t worry too much about me, Leigh. I’m more trouble than I’m worth to the hunters.”
Leighton snickered in amusement. A harmless, playful conversation was going between them. The nephilim had no idea that the demons inside Asriel’s head were wanting him to rip her apart and drain her of her blood and even her soul itself. She was unaware of the war inside him. There was the saying that everyone had their own demons. Well, were they ever thinking about demons themselves when they thought of that? Perhaps that was the most dangerous form. A demon with inner demons, especially a conflicted one like Asi there.
Movement was seen out of the corner of her eye and she glanced over at the bartender when he returned with her order. She could not hide her relief when the whiskey was placed in front of her. Mouthing an appreciative thank you to the bartender, she shot him a sharp nod before willingly picking up the glass like it was gold. Pressing it to her lips, she took a decent sip, savoring the taste. She really needed that right now. She needed an outlet for the vexation and stress, although she was naturally not as stressed as others were in Queen’s Valley. Perhaps she could internally toast to that, toast to herself being out of the rapid, ongoing crossfire. Although, that thought process was cut like a fragile piece of string as she remembered her friend beside her. Asriel wasn’t as lucky. There were still plenty of possibilities that he could be put in danger. And Leighton hated it. She didn’t want to imagine him being hurt or worse.
“Maybe you’re right.” She finally mused, indulging him on his confidence and certainty. “You are a handful.” Leighton accused gently, a smiling toying at her lips. She studied Asriel for a few moments and there was something in her green gaze, a look of affection, perhaps. Although Leigh snapped back to the present soon after the warm silence and took another sip. A longer one, this time. “I’m serious, though.” Placing the glass on the counter, she then just let her fingers tap against the wood. “I care about you, Asi.” Leighton declared bluntly as if it were a matter-of-fact statement, and it was. He shouldn’t have to question that at all. He was her friend, a good friend. Healthy, strong companionships like that weren’t all that easy to come by in a place like Queen’s Valley. Not everyone had good intentions. People lied. Not like bluffing in a game, but really lied. Luckily, Asriel wasn’t a liar.
“And I care about your wellbeing.” The nephilim added that important note as well, nodding slowly and waving her finger toward him. Her lips parted but she paused, licking her teeth thoughtfully. “You’re…” Leigh trailed off and her brows furrowed as she tried to think of the right words. A smile cracked at the corners of her lips when the words came to her. “You’re a good soul and you don’t find many good souls around here anymore.” She admitted and sat up straighter on the seat. Then a mischievous little smirk crossed her lips, Leighton flashing him a grin as she raised her glass once again. “Let’s toast to that, huh?” She laughed softly.
“To good souls in an otherwise bad world.” She snickered and gave a roll of her eyes but smiled genuinely at Asriel. She gently clanked her glass against his, perhaps the sound also being an indirect proclamation to companionship, loyalty, and truth.
Leigh gave a sharp snicker at Asi’s comment. The corner of her mouth curved into a smile at her angel companion’s joke, and the sight of it warmed Asriel’s heart. Here, in her presence, the stuttering, snarling, whispering demon within was quieted. Oh, it was still there; still waiting, still watching, still lurking. Out of the corner of his eye, something moved – the shadow was back, slithering along the bar like a viper. It was an inky smudge – sort of like the world failed to load properly, like the part of the files had been corrupted and destroyed, as if the whole bar and Asi and Leigh were part of some computer game. The blur shifted closer, sliding along the bar’s wooden surface on a million clawed feet. Asi did his best to ignore the shape as it drew closer and closer, until it was practically under his nose. He did his best to focus on Leigh as she finally received her drink, wrapping her fingers around the glass as if it would anchor her to sanity. She took a sip of the whiskey, savoring it as though it were the nectar of whatever gods she believed in. Asi focused on the soft lines of her face, the slight crinkle at the corner of her brilliant green eyes when she smiled, the slight tilt of her mouth that denoted her amusement. He focused on those features as the shadowed blur grew closer, dancing across Leigh’s glass and hands. Only he could see it, but he had to wonder if Leigh could sense it – sense the darkness, sense the wrongness of the phantom that curled around her fingers and slid up her right arm to swallow her right shoulder.
Asi clenched his jaw to resist the urge to cry out a warning to Leigh. He’d learned long ago that no one else could see the apparitions that lurked within his line of sight. Logic told him they were figments of his imagination, but he wasn’t so sure. They were so real, so tangible; surely they couldn’t exist only in his mind? Or were they another product of his demonic nature? Probably. He wouldn’t be surprised; so few things surprised him anymore. He was drifting through life, struggling to find his way in a world that had long ago deemed him evil and had long ago determined his destiny. Demons were all the same to the rest of the world; evil, without consciousness, without humanity. They existed only to destroy and sow chaos. The rest of the world would not care to know Asriel’s heart and soul; they would see a demon, and put him to the sword. They wouldn’t care to understand the conflict within him, wouldn’t care to know his desire to do good and be good.
“Maybe you’re right,” Leighton told him with a slight grin. The inky smudge that had been crawling over her disappeared in a puff of black smoke. “You are a handful.” Asi snorted at the truth behind the statement; she had no idea how true her words were. Even the voices within his head, even the dark thing that lived within him, agreed with her. The demon was amused by Asi’s companion, but it still wanted to roll in her blood, like a dog in something dead. A distant look filled her green gaze, tinged at the edges by something else. Affection? Surely he was reading her expression wrong. He wasn’t very good at reading people after all; socializing and Asi went hand-in-hand about as well as water in a sieve. Yea, that was a good analogy. He filed that one away for later.
The whimsical expression of Leigh’s face fell away rather suddenly, as if she was abruptly yanked back to the present. Where had her mind gone? What was her imagination like? Surely it wasn’t as dark as his. He bet her mind was a quiet place to be; if only his was so quiet. The voices hissed at that, chattering their displeasure to Asi as Leigh began to talk again. “I’m serious, though. I care about you, Asi.” What? Asi had never questioned that she regarded him as a friend, but surely that was all she was referring to? He studied her with a dark gaze for a moment, searching the lines of her face, taking in every facet of her expression. “And I care about your well-being,” she continued, waving a finger at him. “You’re…” she trailed off, expression become distant again as she seemingly was drawn back into her thoughts. He was what? Dark? Dangerous? Evil? Doomed? Sad? Lonely? There were only so many adjectives he could think of to describe himself – did she have more? Monstrous? Corrupted? Demonic? He expected a lot of words to come out of Leigh’s mouth; even as his friend, surely she could sense the darkness within him. He did not expect what Leigh said next, however.
“You’re a good soul and you don’t find many good souls around here anymore.”
Asriel nearly choked in surprise. As it was, he barely resisted the urge to let his mouth fall open in shock and disbelief. His gaze seemed to grow darker, confused and torn, as he met Leigh’s own gaze. She thought… she thought he was a good soul? A good person? It wasn’t… it couldn’t be true. He was a demon, something that should never even exist. His very presence was an affront to Mother Nature herself. He was a walking time-bomb, a walking disaster waiting to happen. No matter how hard he tried, he’d snap one day, and uphold the destiny – the fate – that had been written for him before his birth. He wasn’t a good soul. He was dark, dangerous; a monster in an eerily beautiful façade, as cliché as that was. The voices in his head, the shadows that lurked at the edge of his vision, the dark thing that lived within him – all of these things told him that he was forsaken, that his soul had been tainted beyond all redemption.
He was evil. Wasn’t he?
And yet… and yet Leigh believed he was a good person. Had a good heart. Had a good soul. For the first time in a long time, Asi felt the shadow that clung to him everywhere he went – the stain that smudged his soul – lift a little. A little light seemed to find its way into his heart, easing the burden of his heritage just that little bit. The vice that was always clamped across his chest – the terror that someone would learn the truth about him, what he really was – loosened half an inch, making breathing a tad bit easier. His dark eyes burned with unshed tears; in his mind’s eye, Leigh seemed to glow with a new light.
She gave him a mischievous smile, as if unaware of the earth-shattering affects her words had had one him. “Let’s toast to that, huh?”
Her tinkling, gentle laugh washed over him. “To good souls in an otherwise bad world.” With a chuckle and a roll of her eyes, she gave Asriel a soft smile and clinked her glass against his. He returned the smile, dark eyes soft.
Post by servalstrike on Jan 1, 2019 22:49:35 GMT -5
In chess, the queen is the most powerful piece on the board, as it can do whatever it wants, whenever it wants. The king is the most important to the game, as you need to capture it in order to claim checkmate. But where the king needs surveillance and protection the queen holds the board to her mercy.
Ophelia delicately rolled the piece in her hand, its smooth white surface gleamed in the dim light of her private quarters. She ran her thumb over its surface as she rested her chin on her hand and examined the board before her. The pieces were already scattered to different positions across the checkered black and white surface. Carefully, Ophelia chose a spot for her black queen. From there the game seemed like an easy win.
A pair of high-backed velvet armchairs, a rosewood table and a pair of silver decorative swords crossed over the mantle decorated the space around the fireplace, all positioned on a dark green carpet. The opposing wall was composed of shelves of books, their spines were old and cracking, fragile to any fingers who wished to crack them open. Her study was, at the moment, a hollowed space carved in the back of her gambling house, The Devil's Acre.
Behind her the heavy door groaned open and a presence fluttered into the room. Ophelia didn’t bother to turn her head before she spoke, “Evening, little bird.” She didn’t so much as raise her head as the girl found her way to Ophelia’s side to bend and whisper in her ear. Ophelia’s eyes flashed with something dangerous as she let the news sink in.
A nod from the woman, dressed in dark velvet with lace peeking out from beneath her sleeves and thin silver jewelry dangled from her neck, her eyes were obscured by a bird cage veil. It was how most in Ophelia’s employ dressed, at least the ones she allowed others to know worked for her. The woman’s red feather of a mouth moved again as she persisted. “It was only just confirmed, but I assure you our sources don’t lie.”
Ophelia’s attention drifted back to her game and she gingerly toppled the white queen. “What a pity.” But those golden-brown eyes glinted in the thin light as the queen rolled across the board and onto the floor. Even the most powerful piece in the game could fall it seemed. “I’ll have to start my game all over.”
The woman took a step back and dipped her chin as Ophelia rose from her seat. “It was quite the game too.” She drew her finger tips across the edge of the board, “No matter, I’m sure this next one will be just as interesting.” With that she grabbed the black queen between her thumb and forefinger and planted it in the center of the board.
Adjusting her sleeves and hem of her coat she strode for the door. Her clothes were wrapped around her like armor, tapering sharply along her collar -high and rigid as it guarded her throat- and down her wrists. A dark green skirt brushed her bare calves. The door opened into a hallway, dim before it gave way to the smoky interior of the gambling house. The Devil’s Acre was a gathering place for people from all over Queen’s Valley, a breeding ground for gossip. The chandelier had lights glancing off every corner of the hall barely illuminating the clusters of gamblers that huddled around tables with wads of dollars gripped between their fingers, as if just holding their money tight enough would turn the tides in their favor.
A few candles glimmered from alcoves, guttering as Ophelia stepped past. The walls flickered, and shadows danced. Top notes of sweet blossom stroked her throat, layered like petals over a grave. Despite the candles, the illicit reek of alcohol glanced off her nostrils, mixed in with sweat, and the coppery tang of blood lingered like rot beneath the veneer.
The Devil’s Acre thrummed with activity: gossip, delicious news, bets. Tonight, was full of even more chatter than usual. The name of Evelyn Fairchild was on everyone’s lips. The air pulsed with excitement and portent before being momentarily hushed in Ophelia’s wake as she wove her way through the tables and bodies, the little bird still fluttering in her wake. Her gaze swept through the room surveying the patrons and employees alike.
An empire has fallen and yet the city continued as though nothing had occurred, just another crime to add to Queen's Valley's ever-growing list. The vampyres, it seemed, were not in good graces with the powers that be. And if Ophelia wanted more information on how the board was currently being set up for a game she'd need to stretch her legs.
Leighton was not oblivious to his quite taken aback expression when she called him a good soul. It was like no one had ever told him that before. It was like she was the only person to ever inform him that his soul and heart were both good, and therefore a pure and warm blessing in the torn world they lived in. Asi looked genuinely confused, like a young boy bewildered by adult conversations and not understanding the complexity of them. There was surprise that lit up in her eyes as she watched him in quiet curiosity and wonder. Why was he so stunned at her declaration? Because it was a declaration, mind you. To Leighton, her words weren’t just personal opinions and instead hard facts. He was clearly a good person and he had never done anything to sway her mind otherwise. Never. So, why?
Why was Asriel seeming like it wasn’t all true? It was strange.
She kept those questions in the back of her mind but ultimately chose not to bring the topic up after that. Perhaps later she would. There was still time for that conversation in the future. For now, it was put to rest and Leighton instead focused on their time together. It ended up being quite serene, having drinks and good conversations with a close comrade. Most nights weren’t always like that. Most nights had her reminded that the world was very messed up and they were all caught up in it. Their time at the bar eventually came to an end, although the night was only getting started, unbeknownst to either of them. The drinks and the chats there were only a sliver of the train ride through hell that was about to happen. It was a sweet sneak peek compared to what was in store.
After a relaxing walk through the streets of downtown, the friends made their way back to where Leighton lived. It was a small but still fairly cozy condo down near the coastline, at the outskirts of the large city. She had no desire for a large house and most likely never would, honestly. Extravagant mansions like the ones that prestigious vampyres resided in never seemed to impress Leighton. It wasn’t her taste, that kind of lifestyle. She had no need for a big place, especially when it was only her, other than the times when she would have guests over. Like that night, for example. Instead of saying quick goodbyes once at the front door, Leighton convinced her angel friend to stick around for a little while longer.
Their journey had led them to her living room, where they chatted about one thing or another. Perhaps Leigh became slightly touchy feely. At some point, she had nonchalantly and smoothly slid closer to Asriel. Occasionally her hand would delicately brush his arm. Anyone could say that perhaps the nephilim was just drunk and being drunk equipped her with a flirtatious behavior, but in truth, Leighton wasn’t all that drunk. Not as much as it may seem. In all honesty. No joke. The redhead knew what she was doing. She was aware of her actions, knowing that they seemed forward, especially with the way she kept looking at Asriel. It was like her only desire that night was to be right there with him. And yet, it wasn’t just yearning out of lust.
It was yearning out of genuine affection.
Her green optics shifted to her phone, tapping the home button so she could see the time light up on the screen. “Time sure flies with good company, apparently.” Leighton smirked gently. They had been there for a while. “I understand if you want to leave or need to. It’s pretty late. My fault.” She accused her own self, sending him an apologetic but also joking smile. “But…” There she went, trailing off again and leaving the suspense shrouding the room. She cleared her throat quietly, glancing down at his hand thoughtfully. “If I’m being honest, maybe I don’t want you to leave.” Leighton muttered with a warmth in her tone, her eyes flickering back up to his familiar face. “Not yet.” It was like she was revving up to do something in that moment, and she was.
Leighton knew she was being very forthright with her upcoming actions, but at this rate, she wasn’t going to hide what she wanted anymore. Not right now, because what she wanted was Asriel. With a small smile, the nephilim leaned forward until the space between their lips was long gone. She kissed him right then and there, letting her eyes flicker shut as she savored the feeling.
NOTE: Excessively spamming the shoutbox may result in a 24 hour ban. Other forum rules still apply. Please do not advertise by linking other websites. Members are encouraged to report offending content to the moderators by PM.