Currently
- Dominic | NYC
- Gleeon | Sundown Bar & Cafe, Manhattan, New York
- Jett | Unknown (NYC)
-Synova | Sundown Bar & Cafe, Manhattan, New York
Thoughts
- Dominic | "...." | 100%
- Gleeon | "Spill it before I spill your guts." | 100%
- Jett | "Shut the fuck up and answer me." | 100%
- Synova | " ... " | 5%
- - -
"Karma" | "Bitch" | "Brat" | "Miss Skellington" | "Smalls" | "Ms. Chiot" | "Don Karma"
♀
27 years old
5'7 ft
Ex - Bounty Hunter | Currently: Mafia Boss
Demon - Dire Wolf / Human
____________________
"Underestimate Me, That'll Be Fun."
Chaotic Evil Neutral || ESTJ || Scorpio Sun / Capricorn Moon / Leo Rising
She was inevitable
She was ruthless
She embodied the definition of karma
Let her play, or get the fuck away.
After undergoing rehabilitation at the Hunter Society Headquarters, her irrational behavior and destructiveness simmered down immensely. It's as if she's a different person, but it doesn't mean her violent tendencies have escaped her. In fact, her being calmer just makes her all the more deadlier. She used to whistle for people to hear her approach, but now with a clearer mind makes for a quicker, more strategic approach in taking down targets. Agnes' reputation still stands as an insane, trigger-happy monster to strangers trespassing her territory and most of the underground, and proving them wrong makes her job all the more pleasurable.
She's cold, stark, and brutally honest with strangers. If you aren't a nuisance, you're competition, and if you put up with her just enough, you may even befriend her. This is harder for women than it is for men, not that she prefers one over the other, but the fact that the intensity of her Type A personality tends to spark conflict or drive them away. To her friends, Agnes is compassionate and a little silly even, teasing them in a playful manner.
However, she is incredibly selective of the inner circle she maintains. Agnes is a New Yorker with a spitfire attitude
that lies beneath a calm, sophisticated demeanor.
_____________________________
"I Call Shots, While You Call Off."
Her past is dark and twisted, the entirety of her childhood was devoted to becoming a trained marksman for a corporate mafia family in Manhattan, NYC. One event led up to another for the next four years, an organized coup occurred that she took part in, dissolving the family's name, yet the business was immediately taken by her drill instructor that he withheld. Agnes remained close to her former instructor and to the details of his business.
Nine years later, his assets were choked by another mafia boss attempting to his usurp his resources. Agnes was told to murder her former instructor, with some help, as he was about to give in to this interloper's demands. After his untimely death and successfully disposed of the intruding mafia boss, Agnes finds herself with more power than she had ever asked for. She now runs half of the borough's manfacturing, shipment, and transactions of weapons of trade. Agnes knew enough about the quality of artillery, but didn't know she would be knee deep in the arms industry.
Her territory stretches from the Upper West Side to below Hell's Kitchen. Her colleague, Apollonius Grimm, has the other half, as equal as it can get. With a calmer demeanor, Agnes attempts to not abuse her power. Her hands don't get as dirty as her previous job, but at times she will personally check exports and is conscious about the safety of her men if a transaction goes awry.
Another source of income for Agnes is being the co-owner of a bar and cafe called Sundown. It was once a rustic, narrow bar in Hell's Kitchen, but after getting her new occupation, it has moved into Columbus Avenue in the Upper West Side. Her bad reputation and mysticized beast form has made the bar an attraction for tourists, Agnes blames the locals for this. She used to be the bouncer for Sundown, but after the notoriety began, Spencer, co-owner/parental figure, took up the job to prevent anymore unwanted attention coming her way. Sundown is the ground level entrance to high-end apartments above it where Agnes resides, so she is typically seen there for leisure or to converse with Spencer.
_____________________________
"Catcall And You're a Corpse."
Agnes wears light, breathable clothes when running through the streets, and isn't afraid to show some skin, even in the coldest weather. Her raven locks spill over her shoulders, lacking any dye as she has decided to keep her natural hair. Agnes has metallic blue eyes like her father and pale skin like her mother. A dull tattoo of three roses and an upside-down compass lies just below her right shoulder.
She has something close to a Jersey/Brooklyn accent. When the wolf skull materializes, so do a pair of wolf ears, serving as a great indicator of her emotions due to the fact that her face is concealed. Agnes's physique is lean and toned, free running through allies and parkour on rooftops. She has enhanced senses, her most powerful is being able to smell someone familiar three city blocks away. The wolf grants her increased endurance, stamina, speed, and strength.
...
"That's Not All, Folks."
Agnes can shift into a hellish creature that she inherits from her mother, a massive dire wolf with some areas of her skeleton revealed. She has already allowed the wolf to swallow up her humanity at a young age, being in complete control in this form that acts almost like a power-up. However, there are consequences when using the wolf, one being that she is stuck in this form for the next couple of days and once reverted Agnes becomes immensely lethargic, becoming vulnerable to her enemies.
"I hear its voice."
_______________________________
"And in the middle of my chaos, there was you."
- Greysexual -
[ x 1 - 🤍 ]
⚜️
"Chaton" | "Dom"
Dominic has been the quickest relation Agnes has ever made. It started off with a debt after Dominic gave her a job to do, but they found themselves around each other more often than not. The vampire knows more about her than anyone she's ever met, and she trusts in him to maintain that secrecy. Complicated feelings floated to the surface, Agnes has never been more sure of her feelings. She has always adored the vampire, but with issues of his coven coming to light, Agnes can't imagine her life without him. She loves him, more than words can explain, and will do everything in her power to keep him close and comfortable.
____________________
"Wanna Know A Lil' More?"
• Due to help in unlikely places, Agnes and her demons are one and the same. Her blood is black, and too toxic to harbor a child, so she believes. Another result are two new powers. One being the ability to manipulate shadows for her to hide in and travel in short distances beneath its veil. The other being an increase in strength.
• Agnes is just as deadly without her ammunition. While she was learning how to handle a sniper rifle at the age of twelve, Agnes was being trained in Brazilian ju-jitsu, eskrima, as well as parkour to build her stamina and endurance while she was in the mafia. She was pitted against full grown, trained men over and over until Agnes became highly proficient at all three.
• Agnes is fluent in English, Italian, and French, and understands bits and pieces of Japanese from her instructor when she was younger. She's eager to have more languages under her belt.
• Agnes prefers to adopt her father's last name, 'Hale'. She knows she has relatives, but they all stem from her mother's side, who she disowned.
• She never had a childhood, pop culture references fly over her head. That's in the works of being fixed.
• Her birthday is on Halloween
- 21+ (I can not stress this enough)
- The thoughts and actions of my character do not represent my own.
-This is fictitious content, anything related to actual experiences is entirely coincidental, that being said don't steal
-You add, you start. (this is flexible)
-Paragraphs preferred, but one-liners are accepted.
-Agnes can become very vulgar, so if you drop our rp, I'll understand.
-Default setting: A city, unless given good reason not to be.
-The idea of Agnes and her storyline belong to me, all other pictures belong to their rightful owners.
- Don't feel pressured to send replies to me as soon as you get them, life's messy and comes first. I try to reply within two weeks, but that may be subject to change depending on life events and inspiration for a specific thread.
- OOC info: I've been doing this hobby for over 10 years [ this hobby is absolutely not addictive ], I owe it to writing for making me meet new people I never thought I would ever get the chance to talk to irl, and for giving me a sense of vocabulary and the awareness that I need to read more. As a writer, I believe I still have a lot to learn, so if there is any critique in my writing style to be said, please let me know.
-I'm a Discord mod for the Wrealms server (Angus/Nemo). Agnes might be intimidating but I try not to be, if you're interested in writing, I'm usually more open to discussion there.
F A N | A R T S
Kei: [IMG]
Alice O'Malley: [IMG1], [IMG2], [IMG3]
Tsunami: [IMG]
Creo: [IMG]
FC: Kaya Scodelario | VC: Black Cat - Spider-Man . PS4
Comments
The room fell into a stale silence when Dahlia left it. The walls of the Black Room were meant to dampen the magic and rituals that went into play—who knows what else had been done in the space times before, or what the blood mage offered to patrons with such a craft. While Dahlia left to find their last vital ingredient for the vampire, Dominic was just as still as the room itself. After all, there were no breaths to search for. There was no pulse to track or signs of false-life he always gave her to make his presence feel more reassuring. Not when his body was left more damaged than the curse of immortality had ever left him.
Agnes’ thoughts might be shaken by the sharp sound of glass tapping on the table nearby. Dahlia had returned and shut the door behind her with a heavy slam. In her hands were several un-marked medical-style bags of blood. She started to open them one by one, readying for the final gesture the blood mage had in store.
“Drowning, extreme colds, even hunger up to a point… the theory is that vampires’ immune systems can go into a dormant, hibernative state,” Dahlia muttered under her breath and knelt down to sit on her heels near the vampire’s head. The mage’s hands reached for Dominic’s shirt and ripped the buttons free with a hard pull. Whatever she was thinking of the prior sentiment, it wasn’t shared as her next weaving began. One by one the fluids from the bags lifted, following the will of the mage’s fingertips. The crimson fluid followed its flow unto her palm which was set on Dominic’s chest, disappearing beneath the man’s skin.
The transfer took several minutes of concentration before it was over. The veins across her skin, which had appeared prominently throughout the ritual, started to recede. A sigh of relief left her lips and the mage sat back. She felt the ebb and flow of activity under the vampire’s skin.
“It’s done… its up to him now,” Dahlia spoke. There was a certain strain on her features as she shakily sat up, picking up the discarded packages. Her eyes then went to the blackened stain on the floor. The glass vial on the counter was picked up, and the contents on the floor were gathered into the vessel. She capped the vial and set it back down.
Dahlia then looked to Agnes. Few times had she seen the demoness’ expression so worried, but she knew she had seen it before. It somewhat mirrored the vampire’s, the night of the Gala.
“I don’t know what state he’ll wake up in, but the safest place for him to be is here. I can’t leave you down here, I’m sure as hell not letting you just go home…” The Serbian woman held out a hand to Agnes. Her voice was softer than it might have ever been. “Come on. I live just upstairs. We’ll get ourselves cleaned up, and you can tell me what happened tonight.”
Dahlia’s expression offered little hints of certainty. What she knew for sure, is that she could rip it from his system one way or another. Whether the vampire could keep up with the process was another thing altogether. She didn’t worry herself with what she couldn’t control, only what she had to. They were running out of time.
“You are your father’s kid,” The Serbian woman mused. “I suspect there’s much more to it than that.” She wasn’t a stranger to dark presences looming over her shoulder, and she felt it no differently than when Nik was once in the room. The door was kicked closed behind them, sealing off the space. Dahlia took hold of Agnes’ hand for a moment, only to loosen it. The imprint of her blood stained across her palm and the demoness was forgotten for the moment in the corner.
Dahlia took a deep breath. The small athame in her hand was raised and pressed into her palm. Vibrant crimson pooled from the incision that halted after a few inches. The blood mage’s expression wouldn’t change to the bite of the steel, besides the furrow of her brow as her concentration grew. The knife was tossed onto the table behind her, and she put her palms together. The demoness’ blood mixed with her own; there was no stronger source of power than the mage’s blood meeting with the source of their trouble.
From then on, her hands were held out. The blood that should have dripped from the cut remained in place when Dahlia directed her focus toward the vampire. There were no incantations, or circles to be seen. She was searching, waiting… until she sensed the correct material had been found, and gave it a pull. The vampire’s body lurched the moment that Dahlia’s power took hold. There was one last strangled shout before Dominic seemed to run out of air, and lost control of his muscles as a whole. The blood mage’s hands began to move in a slow, deliberate motion. Pulling, and pulling. The substance from his stomach and throat escaped with ease to form a floating orb of blood and toxin that came to hover before her palm.
The vampire’s convulsions grew weaker and weaker while the fight dragged on. Small dust-like particles and droplets of blood made their way to the surface and pooled at the core of what Dahlia had taken out by her command. The true task at hand was dispelling the particles that the vampire’s metabolism had already absorbed. The blood mage’s hands shook with each passing minute as the process dragged on. The spell cast was intended for humans, not saving undead creatures of the night whose metabolisms broke the body’s energy source down into almost nothingness. Had it been… ten, fifteen minutes? Time was hard to approximate in the room.
Finally, the convulsing stopped and Dominic lay still. At the entrance of the room, Dahlia dropped to her knees and the blood that was gathered fell to the floor in a pool in front of her. The mage took a sharp breath in and exhaled a shaky breath.
She'd done it... now what about him?
"He needs blood- watch him," Dahlia ordered urgently, and rose shakily onto her feet. Unlike the moments before, signs of worry and relief finally showed across her face. The Ritual Room door was forced open and her footsteps trailed off to the door hidden behind the counter.
“Back up, take a seat,” Dahlia instructed Agnes as she promptly walked into the room with a leather-bound tome open in her hands. There had been few changes in the room from their last visit. The same sturdy work benches lingered on the walls. The concrete that Dom had once broken through was patched long ago.
She drowned out the whimpering exasperations of the vampire in the center of the room while she turned the final pages to find what she wanted. She sat it down on the table after. The mage drew in a slow inhale and approached Dominic. Her hands held themselves out over the man’s body. A silent concentration fell over her and silenced the room. Even the vampire’s gasping quieted at the sense that something was happening.
She knew this day would come. She never imagined that she would have to be a part of it. Not like this. Her magic didn’t work so long as she had fear or doubt. The sorceress seemed to show neither.
“You know, Karma…” Her hands lowered, but Dahlia remained crouched beside Dominic. “Blood mages have been able to manipulate life essence for millennia. The secret is iron. A human contains about a nail’s worth of iron in their body. My magic works with the magnetism of that life essence…”
Her fingers brushed some of the vile-looking liquid from his clothes and rubbed it between her fingertips. There was an odd sense of mirth to her tone. “Demons are much… heavier. Whatever you are, it couldn’t get much worse. I thought I was the ultimate antithesis to vampires, but you..?”
She stood up from the writhing man on the floor and turned toward Agnes. “I can still strip it from him. It will be painful; it won’t be easy. If he is too far along, he might not survive at all. No matter what happens, you and I will have to accept the outcome.”
Dahlia turned back toward the pages of the open book, picking up a double-edged athame from the table. Her right hand reached out for Agnes’, which covered the wound on her neck. “I’ll need some of your blood along with that consent.”
He couldn’t breathe. It was a fleeting memory that he ever had to, but for the moment, he couldn’t seem to get air in and out of his lungs fast enough. It did nothing to hamper that substance that was ripping through his insides, just as fast as his body had tried to process it. His chest burned in a way he hadn’t felt in ages. No hunger nor bloodlust compared to the sensation that had come back to bite him, tenfold. The room was a fading memory to the vampire who lay convulsing, coughing, and clawing at the floor for something to grasp ahold of…
Dominic felt himself leave the ground. The scent of fresh blood coating Agnes’ hand was met with recoil and a sudden hiss that promised her worries of a second strike was over. He knew it was her… he could sense it was her, much to his horror and relief, buried deep down. What he couldn’t do was get control of his body and thoughts long enough to think about it. The jostled movements caused the vampire to shrink into himself further.
He heard the slam of the door being tossed open. He caught the scent of old cardboard and the wax on the wood floors of the record shop. How had they made it that long, how were they here?
Dahlia heard it as well. Once the back door slammed itself open, so did the basement door. The mage looked up the long flight of steps, with a hand outstretched and an incantation already started under her breath. When she noticed the two, her face went pale.
“-What happened!?” She demanded. Only a half-second pause was allowed before she walked halfway up the stairs to meet them. Dahlia took one closer look at Dominic, then to Agnes’ condition gravely. She turned on her heels and went back toward the door.
“-Come on. Talk as you go.”
-/-
Dahlia paused at the door’s threshold. There was a pause when she placed both hands upon the carved surface, and uttered a phrase seemingly in Serbian. The heavy sensation in the air diminished for the first time in years. The wards of Paradox slipped away as they deactivated. It left them vulnerable, as did the broken back door that now swung freely on weak hinges.
It didn't matter—her business partner was dying. Her friend was dying. She pushed it open and ushered Agnes inside. The blood mage’s back turned to the pitiful couple while she searched through a bookcase on the furthest wall of the basement room."-Get him into the Ritual Room, now. There isn't a lot of time."
It all happened as quickly as a gun being fired, without a forewarning of the hammer’s click. The piercing, searing pain tapered off into something of less immediacy. The cold, numbed sensation took hold through the muscles. They left behind pins and needles that attacked the nerves and seemed to dare the victim to try and move.
The whispers and voices that emanated through the room felt like static to his senses and tightened the vampire’s grip over her. He could feel a presence, but wouldn’t make sense of it now. He might eventually remember the room and the sounds after that moment. There was no doubt that the demoness’ shout of his name would hold a place in his mind, sooner or later. For now, it felt like he was underwater, trapped with the one sense of urgency that consumed him in his immortal life. As creatures, they were the unnatural world’s most perfect subtle hunters. All things came with their drawbacks.
Such consumption wouldn’t be slowed down in time to realize what had gone terribly, terribly wrong. It started slow. It was a burning, malignant sensation in his stomach. Soon enough it was spreading through his core. The vampire suddenly seized and ripped himself free of the grasp.
Agnes’ first sense to return was the blurry sight of the living room at an unfamiliar angle. She had collapsed. No, she had been dropped. Enough damage had been done that she held her consciousness but wouldn’t be getting up immediately.
Agnes’ second sense was the sound of Dominic retching across the room. The vampire was hunched over a pool of murky black liquid which had coated his hands and the front of his clothes. Heavy, raspy breaths escaped the man’s chest before he dropped onto his side. His muscles convulsed with each wheezing cough that tried to expel the substance out of his body.
The music in the room carried on without them, but it fell on deaf ears.
The man had felt a sensation like this before—when he was brought into this cursed afterlife. He was dying. He was sure of it. That was all his senses could manage past the pain and the lingering voices still clouding his head.
The second verse came and went in Italian, uttered more quietly by the Englishman when she pressed her head close to his. His hands settled on her waist comfortably while his feet directed the small movements that turned them around in the empty apartment room. Little did she know, his footsteps matched to the steady cadence of Agnes’ heart in her chest, up until it started to rise again
Without you, I'm lonely
My heart wants you only
I can't get you out of my heart.
By the final chorus, his voice was only a soft hum. His eyes were half-lidded, and illuminated by the city glow behind Agnes when they had come to a pause. The vampire’s feet stopped, but a slow sway kept them in movement while he pulled her closer for the kiss.
His grasp tightened around her once her hands dropped, fingers curling around the folds of her shirt. The vampire’s breaths rose and fell quicker than his usual imitation. The song quieted in replacement of the scratching sound of the record transitioning. The next track entered the room more softly than the first.
Hello, hello, memory…
Don't you know me, memory?
The wistful voice in the background began to sing, without an accompaniment from Dominic.
I was the one so in love I couldn't see
Memory, don't you remember me?
His feet didn’t move while his lips gingerly trailed down along her jawline, toward the crook of her neck.
Hello, you there used to be
Back then you held love for me
We were the two just happy as can be…
Memory, don't you remember me?
There was a sudden and sickening snap as canines punctured through the skin between her neck and shoulder. They wouldn’t go through as sharply or as cleanly as one might hope.
Since then we drifted apart…
Whatever contingency plan the demoness had thought over in the past years, it didn’t account for the ice that seeped through her veins and the buzzing of startled nerves that left her out of her control. The vampire’s arms, already wrapped around her, pulled her in tighter like a death's embrace to keep the demoness’ knees from fully buckling.
There was no romantic allure of the modern-day vampire cinema that would draw her in for another bite. It wasn’t the theatrical adrenaline-laced scene in a black-and-white movie, fueled by a crescendo and a sudden scream at spotting bared fangs.
All it inspired was a stinging sense of helplessness and paralysis, that had snuck into the room like the night through the open windows of the balcony. It snuck in without a conscious thought at all.
And now I come to you, with a broken heart
It was simply awful.
Hello, memory, just one more time
Show me, tell me what once was mine...
Please let me see that sweet love that used to be
Then, memory, I'll forget you, forget me.
The vampire was strangely absent, other than his weight on the bike. The usual baseline fidgeting had tapered off beside a gentle stroke of his thumb when she touched his hand. When they walked back through the busy aisles of Sundown, he wouldn’t lose connection with her. The doors had closed with a steady inhale and exhale of the vampire. His eyes studied her thumb when it found the vacant spot where the ring once sat. Insult to injury. He didn’t feel any more ‘himself’ with the glamorous binding his appearance, but he didn’t feel any less, either. Red-rimmed eyes had certainly looked clearer on other occasions.
“You’ll have to refresh my memory,” Dominic hummed. He had already turned toward the machine to make his own selection, stirring the mechanics inside to life. Opening vocals and the quiet hum of string instruments framing the intro painted a gentle uplifting aura, even in the apartment. It was a small shift from the usual Sinatra. Al Martino - I can’t get you out of my heart. Short and sweet. A slow dance, it was.
Dominic turned around. He went to the center where Agnes waited, holding his hands out with an ever-present smile. “Chiot.” His hand took hers, drawing her in close to put his other hand around her waist.
I can't get you out my heart
For you, love, are part of my heart…
A hum from the vampire’s chest wasn’t mistaken as they settled into the song's cadence. The apartment walls dissolved, as did all worry of covens or footwork as his sway matched hers.
“It's funny, the first time we met
I knew you'd be hard to forget…”
A baritone voice was heard once his lips parted for the second short verse. The velveted sound was heard against Agnes’ ear as Dom leaned closer.
“I can’t get you out of my dreams
Whenever you’re near my heart beams…”
He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead on hers. Crimson hues were fervent when they met hers.
“Without you, I'm lonely
My heart wants you only
I can't get you out of my heart.”
He found himself coming back down, from it all. No matter where Lucienne was that night, she was slipping out of his thoughts for the time being, destined to be tomorrow’s problem. Lord knew he had enough to think about. If there was any debate on how vampires felt pain or discomfort, overstimulation was on the list.
His focus on Agnes was combatting that. Dominic listened quietly as a more at-ease smile spread. He didn’t deserve this. It was a kinder thought than it could have been. Patience. Understanding. Immortality; he never thought it could be a shared thing outside his kind. “One step at a time. I won’t jeopardize a second of our peace over being hasty, Chiot... my request with you and the coven still stands. Please.”
The manor. He had forgotten about it for the past week, and the date was likely fast approaching. The move would put him back into the woods he ran from when he came to the city, but circumstances were different now. When she asked her simple question, Dominic looked back at her pensively.
“I will.” No matter how much he wanted to run and disappear earlier, no matter the discomfort, he couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts.
-/-
The ride back felt quicker than their departure from the West. The vampire was quiet behind her, buried in his thoughts and the rhythm of the demoness’ heartbeat over the bike’s engine. He perked up only once Sundown’s now-busier street appeared, and shook himself to life when the bike was parked in its spot. The helmet was left behind without a worry. Nightlife was friendly to vampires in the form of red lights, and cold streets. The city hosted an amalgam of characters that made people like themselves blend in no differently than the humans, at times.
He kept his eyes averted through the bar’s main entrance, should his normally stoic expression be telling. Dom was on Agnes’ heels while they moved through the hectic space. When the elevator started to make its way up, his posture eased.
Lombardi’s felt like it was more than just a few hours ago.
Let’s try this again.
His shoes came off, and the lights were not bothered this time. The vampire approached the living room and promptly slid the balcony door shut. The latch was deformed from Luci’s arrival. “You know…” His eyes drifted past the glass and out into the city for a moment and then he turned around, clearing his throat. He leaned a hip against the jukebox with his arms crossed loosely. Red eyes held a certain glint to them. “We haven’t truly gotten to dance since I taught you. I didn’t quite get to enjoy the chance that evening.”
The vampire’s smile spread when she teased, and he raised a brow. “I’ve developed a bit of a knack for the wrong place wrong time,” He admitted quietly, glancing at her before turning back to the waters. A moment of quiet passed that was far more peaceful than those before it had been. His chin tipped back toward Agnes when she spoke. As he listened, Dom’s arm tightened around her a tad. Reddened hues remained on her thereafter.
“I've found my favorite version of myself in you, Agnes. I could stand to lose everything, and I have in times before, but... not you. Not in this lifetime, nor the next… nor the next…” He whispered. His voice drifted off longingly like it was thought to continue from there on. He rested back against her and continued in a whisper. “...not by my hand. There isn't any closing the door once it is opened. I can’t promise you that things will always be easy.”
His stare drifted along the water while he thought. “Abram might be one of the better tracking vampires in the UK. That night in London, Lucienne slipped away with ease… as she has managed to consistently for the last few decades. Luci has always been Abram’s problem that he's sought to solve. I wouldn’t expect the same treatment—not twice in a century with the coven, not even if it were Aasir’s judgement.”
They would have taken your tongue out for this.
...Don’t you care?
The vampire withdrew his thoughts from the matter and huffed. “I know how you hate these words, Chiot, but… I need a little time to think.” He leaned close and pressed a kiss against her temple. “Thank you for tonight. For… this.”
Dominic leaned back into her without hesitation when her arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders. She could have walked him up and down the boardwalk without so much of a word if it meant having that familiar source of stability beside him. He couldn’t make sense of it all, only the parts that he couldn’t. How could he have memories he was so certain of with nothing to tether them to? Something about the vampiress’ words had begun to creep through his thoughts.
You’re not there anymore, you’re here. Dominic’s hand gave hers a halfhearted squeeze in acknowledgment. Where was there? He had to get a hold of himself. Red-rimmed eyes lacked confidence on the matter, but they also lacked the hysteria shown in the apartment.
When her voice shifted, so did his attention back to her. The walls were ready to come up; more than anything he feared the threat of a push into that unknown. “Luci and I were close. Even after she left, we had always been close. From the moment we met she was a perpetual source of trouble, pushing the envelope, but… she was also a spot of light in that dark.”
When the ‘push’ never came, Dominic leaned into her side and put his arm around to draw her in closer. He looked out into the water. “I often go back to that cottage in Dover in my mind. The one where we let our troubles be human for the evening…” He hummed quietly. “The one where I’m certain our hosts thought us to be a young married couple.” The unsteadiness of his voice had slipped away, bringing forth a calmness to the vampire. His voice whispered just above her ear. “Are you so sure you could simply uproot your life..?”
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