So, OK, I'm working on my other fics. I have plots and chapter outlines and everything. But, as loukritia pointed out to me, my stories are happy and fluffy... and I'm just not feeling that right now. I tried, but... it's hard to write happy and fluffy when everything comes out as despair and loss. So... I wrote this. Enjoy? It's a one-shot, but I might make it longer or more involved later. Who knows. And I didn't use any names on purpose- it doesn't have to be VA. It doesn't even have to be any characters in particular. So... imagine it as any combo you like. :-)
***edited***I decided that this fic will be a scrapbook of VA snapshots. Various characters and times.
I originally said this was Dimitri and Rose. But, rereading it, I'm really getting an Adrian and Rose vibe here. I'm thinking after Last Sacrifice, before Adrian leaves for Palm Springs.
Disclaimer: Richelle Mead owns Vampire Academy, its characters and plots. Everything else is mine.
I raised my glass to take a sip, only to discover that it was empty. I wondered idly how that had happened, then shrugged it off and raised the glass further, intending to signal the barkeep that I needed another drink. My hand paused halfway, and I watched as the firelight danced and sparked along the patterns etched into the glass. It was beautiful, I mused, and deadly, like her.
Murmers danced around the edges of the pleasant haze that clouded my mind, and I wondered idly who the newcomer was. No one came here to talk, after all.
The click of heels on the bare wood floor startled me out of my reverie. I raised my eyes from where they had been studying the way the firelight reflected in my empty glass to stare at the newcomer. The sight of her almost took my breath away. I thought for an instant that I was dreaming – that the avenging angel before me had taken form from the one that haunted my imagination.
I saw the spark of recognition in her eyes, the hope that sprang into their depths as I gazed at her perfect body. I felt my eyes rake up and down her form, taking her in. I could no more have stopped them than I could have stopped a train. But I certainly didn't need to acknowledge that fact.
"What are you doing here?"
The words came out harsh – harsher than I meant them. I felt myself frowning, worked to keep the expression from my face, to present the blank, perfectly schooled, emotionless mask that I was known for.
She stared at me for a moment, her own expression wavering. Then she seemed to come to a decision. The tiny spark of hope that had flared for a moment died out, replaced with her own mask of steely indifference.
"I… came here looking for someone." she said finally. The words fell dispassionately into the empty silence. "But it seems I was mistaken. He's already long gone."
I was caught by a sudden memory of her eyes, flaring into my vision, full of fire and passion. But now they were hollow, soulless.
She turned on her heel and silently let herself out, easing the door shut behind her. The soft click as it shut rang louder than if she had slammed it.
I stared blankly for a moment at the space where she had been. Then I dropped my gaze back to my empty glass, and let my head sink slowly down until it rested against my outflung arm. She was gone. And this time, I knew, she wouldn't be coming back.