The first time (or maybe it was at birth, I once heard a rumor that I came out spiting blue sparks) it come, at an age with pig tails and being 'daddies' little girl, it was like a burst of blue across grandmothers oh so sweet house.
The moment that it hit the ground of the snug little cottage (with pictures covering every inch of the story-book home with sugar cookies calling me) went up like a box of matches.
There were flames that smelled like one of daddies cigars surrounding me and still climbing higher but all my childish baby-blues could see was the fairy blue sparks spreading to each of my finger tips, 'Does this mean I'm a fairy princess, grandma?'
-
"Whats got you all blue around the gills? I didn't leave you, you should be jumping for joy or at lest being miss crazy or should I say yourself. I hope that you still want me to stay, Elle."
I wanted to rip up the reminder and push away the memories that came flooding like a broken dam and started drowning me with the pain of it all ('when can it stop daddy?' 'soon princess just stay still for me').
"Oh shut up you big fool, this has nothing to do with you. And if you use this as a reason to leave again you'll be packing with one arm."
The charm of this man didn't come from his words (just ask all his exes, which is a really long list. Almost as long as mine), or his manners but the fact that he seems like the same old same old then he goes and saves your life like a freaking terminator (minus the metal).
He's the 'no chick flick moments' kind of guy but still when the time calls for it he's a better shoulder to cry on then Peter and that's saying something.
But the one true reason that I found him (besides the whole 'your a demon' 'no I'm not' thing) was the fact the he sees me and not just the damaged parts because he's not so unbroken himself.
"What did I say about biting head's off?"
"Only demons and Sammy, well fine just tell me when he gets back, I really need to bite something, anything or anyone."
"Okay just not me. Who's that?"
The flames came roaring back to life as he took the picture from my limp hands, the smiling face (too sweet, full of sugar cookies and warm hugs, too sweet to be the same blood as me) pulled on too many memories and most of all it marked the beginning of this horror-story, 'You know, my little El, your just like your father all the way down to the bone.'
"The reason I'm blue around the gills (isn't it green?). My grandmother, she died yesterday."
Of all the things he could do, of all the things he could say he chooses to be everything I don't except him to be, my knight in armor with a crack in it (or was it a few hundred?).
"She reminds me of you, maybe in the end you'll be just like her."
I can only dream, after all I have daddies blood running it's way in my veins (or do I?).
