Evening Sojourn, a companions of the night fanfic

Michel slowly opened the door to his modern blue vehicle, letting a gust of flurries rip through the small gap in the metal. The flakes of snow clung to his slightly warmer frame, not melting as they would on a human, but just resting there as if he were a part of the scenery. For a moment, he sat perfectly still at the steering-wheel, allowing his outstretched arm to take the brunt of the cold outside. Slowly, he expended one leg into the deep snow, the cold layers coming up to his ankle. Some clumps of the frozen water droplets fell into his shoe and crunched beneath his heel as he stood perfectly straight and looked closely at the place of his objective. It must have been fate which led him here tonight, for when he had gotten into his car just after sunset with no destination in mind, he had never expected for him subconscious to lead him here: it was the last place he should ever be, a locus which was ingrained into his head and brandished on his body like no other.

It was her last known address.

He had not emailed or phoned ahead to tell her he was coming – he didn't need to. He knew she would be here, as she never left. He did visit occasionally, just to look at her and reassure himself she was real – that everything was real. Carefully, he would look and watch from the shadows, memorizing every angle and curve she had to offer his hungry gaze. She never saw him, never spoke, but he needed to feel her presence in his life occasionally. It was stupid for him to even contemplate thinking this, but she made him a better man, even while he was an inferior vampire because of it.

That's why he didn't visit as often as he would like.

The snow, obstinately adhering to his black hair was a contrast to his shadowed form. It was innocence surrounding his immorality, like the first wail of a newborn or her scent on a summer's breeze. He walked, trudging through the snow-covered path like a panther stalking his prey. Michel kept his eyes on the goal, his heightened senses listening to the quiet hearts as he moved unhindered. Finally, he stood at his favourite vantage point, looking, watching, waiting.

Once upon a time, there had been a vibrant girl. Her beauty came with her willingness to match his wit, question his authority, and just plain be an annoyance.

He sunk to his knees in the snow, his bare hand reaching out in the night. He came with the darkness, shrouded by sin, and left the same way. His fingers brushed against stone, and he flinched away from the cold he could barely feel.

He could see her now, looking down at her younger brother with a loving laugh gracing her eyes. Her hair glinted almost golden from the lights, and the red sweater she was wearing to ward off the chill was rolled up her slim forearms as she hung an ornament on a Christmas tree. He could almost touch the scene, it was so real to him.

Maybe, someday, she would find him again.

"Kerry," he whispered, voice brimming over with unspoken regrets. Sometimes, he thought he would tell her, but the words never left his blood to travel out his lungs. "I kept my promise," was all he was able to murmur, with a slight derisive laugh. It had been one of the few times, but he had. He lived with the regret of letting her go almost every day thereafter.

She hadn't. She hadn't lived at all.

He reached out again, fingers caressing the carved curves and angles of her tombstone. He could almost see her. Hear her. Touch her. Taste her.

He stood, pausing to wipe the snow off his knees. His bout of sentimentality was over, and it was time to face the world again. He walked, footprints marring the serene perfection of the fresh snowfall. They left a trail of longing through the ancient graveyard, leading towards the present world as time went on.

Maybe, someday, she would find him again.

The end of this life was not the happily ever after of fairy-tales.

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