Title: Time to pass
Disclaimer: All character are property of the wonderful Tessa Stone who gave us Hinabn
I'm sorry for mistakes. If you found one it would be nice if you'd tell me.
Inspired by this http:/silveray. /gallery/25326009?offset=0#/d32c8zn
Enjoy yourself
It was that time of the year again.
The years may passed faster for them than for humans, after all what were a few years when you were immortal, but when that day came closer again time always seemed to slow down.
A few weeks before they started to get nervous.
No one of them could really grasp it. It was there, undeniable, a subliminal tension, becoming stronger with each passing day and showing itself in the unconsciously glaces towards the calendar, silent stares out of the window and overall the silence.
The silence was the worst for Casimiro. It seemed to be everywhere, but mostly it was around Finas.
It lingered between them, hid in short nods and stretched the time that passed between every question and its answer.
At one point it always got too much for Casimiro. The silence became to much to stand.
Running away seemed to be the only solution.
Casimiro never was a coward, but in his opinion it was the better of two possibilities. The other one would only lead to fights and fights between were short, bloody and painful.
It was the best for both of them, he thought, to just disappear.
So he would run.
The world around him was cold. It had started to snow a few days ago. He stopped for a moment staring into the dark sky, watching the snow falling down.
If he closed his eyes it would again be like last year. And the year before. And the year before that year.
Hell is repetition he thought bitterly. His steps were the only thing audible in the empty street.
He started walking away. He didn't even know where he was going.
Over the years he had found a lot of different things he would do in those few day. But picking up fights got boring after a while exactly like he know that the usual trill of hunting wouldn't help him this time.
He just wandered around for a while until a strangely familiar sign caught his eye.
''The Rabbit Hole'' He grinned. He couldn't get drunk. He had no blood flow.
It never stopped him from trying.
Inside the bar it was warm. He looked around, not seeing anything unusual.
The usual bunch of people who were in a bar on a Thursday evening. Some of them were talking to each other. Most of them were staring at their glasses.
He passed a table with a drunk woman. She giggled when she saw him and then waved at him to come to her. She almost felt over. He ignored her.
Would be too easy. He preferred it when they were at least able to understand what he was doing to them.
''Whiskey.'' he said to man at the bar. He gave him a searching look then turned around to get him the drink.
''Not in the mood for blood?'' Someone asked quietly. He felt himself tensing. ''Don't know what you're talking about.'' The other person snorted. ''I know a vampire when I see one.''
The bartender came back with his drink. He stared at the glass, suddenly not anymore in the mood to try to get drunk.
''Then you should also know what I could do to you.'' He looked at the man. He was sitting left to him, staring at the glass in front of him. His hair was dark except for one white strain and for a moment Casimiro wondered where exactly he had seen him before.
''I just want to talk.'' The corner of Casimiros mouth twitched. ''I heard that one before. It always ended with something sharp pressed against my neck.''
''And then the death of that person?''
He eyed the man again. There was something weird about him. He could swear he had seen him before but when he tried to remember where and when exactly all he could come up with was the sound of something dripping on the ground.
''You know I dislike people who try to kill me. Or who ask too many questions.''
The man grinned slightly when he heard that. ''So you don't like talking.'' Casimiro lifted his glass.
The liquid reminded him of something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
''Shouldn't you be somewhere?''
The question came out of nowhere. He threw the man another glance. ''What would make you think that?'' The man looked him in the eyes for the first time since they started talking. He wore a pair of glasses that sparkled shortly in the dull light. ''You're not here to hunt. Hungry vampires behave … different. You can't get drunk. Also this is hardly the place where someone would spend his free time. People who come here are desperate.'' He raised his glass to Casimiro.
''You're running away.'' He smirked at him. ''And you're rather bad at it.'' Casimiro stared at him. ''I don't think that's any of your damn business.''
''Why not? Listen I've talked with a lot of people over the years. And what I found out is that there's no way you can escape.'' They both drunk from their glass. Casimiros emptied his.
''You don't even know what I'm running from.''
''It's always the same.''
''Not with me.'' He suddenly stood up and glared angrily at the man. ''I don't know who you are, or better what you are, but I don't need you little pep talk.''
He turned around heading for the door. The man just waved at the bartender to bring him another drink. ''They are always running away from you, aren't they?'' the bartender said, while pouring something from a bottle.
Ples stared at the brown liquid and smiled slightly. ''Yes. They are.''
Outside it was cold again. It didn't really matter. With angry steps he stormed through the night.
Running away, a distant part of his mind whispered. Where are you running Casimiro? He stopped. Stared at the sky. It was a beautiful night to watch the stars. Without really noticing it he turned around.
He could do nothing. Being around Finas reminded it of that. It was the same every year, it would be same next year and the year after that year and at some point it would become an eternity of being unable to do anything. An enternity of running.
Always running. He was always running away.
When he came back to his senses he was standing in front of a graveyard. He didn't know what time it was. He just knew it was Thursday.
That one day was here. He closed his eyes, fighting with himself. Then he hesitantly came closer.
It didn't take him long to find him. Finas was standing in front of grave. He was holding a bunch of red roses. Staring at the ground with an blank glance.
It hurt. Weeks of silence, years of hate for putting them through it again every year and something broke inside of him, making it impossible to come closer. Casimiro turned around and started to run again.
Ran away from the fact that even if he would try to get closer all he would get was silence.
He leant against a tree, stared for a moment at the sky, closed his eyes and imagined the whole world going black and the silence to become something he would one day be able to stand.