Hello, everyone. Below you is the next installment of If It Kills Me. I hope you enjoy it, it's extra long just for you!
Below that is an author's note that I would like to call your attention to. I have some things I would appreciate your opinion on, because even though I'm writing this story, I still think that as the one reading it, you should get some input. It also talks about next update. So, it's kind of important.
Thanks for reading, and I really hope you enjoy!
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Golden-love: I love that you love the fic! Please keep reading, tell your friends, all that jazz. Hehe. And yes, I am a Jason Mraz fan, and I'm happy you picked up on that. :)
Chapter Ten: Burning Up.
"Are you feeling better?" Eric asked as I once again re-opened my eyes, and my chest began moving at its normal pace. I could even feel the blood start to really flow through my veins, not just get pushed because of a low supply. My body temperature rose, blood even tinting my cheeks. I was better, so I nodded.
I wasn't upstairs anymore. Eric had moved me down onto Bill's couch. It was weird; even though I'd just been down here, I suddenly felt smaller in comparison to the thing. And as I sat up, I felt fragile and strong at the same time. The shock and residual throbbing I felt from getting hurt made me seem delicate, like a glass after someone taps it with a piece of silverware. But the blood sent this wave over me, like I had never felt this good before in my life. I could smell the weirdest things, like the iron in Bill's drink, even though it was capped, or the leather of Eric's jacket, even though it was slung on a chair across the room. I was aware, of everything.
That was the one thing I liked about vampire blood. And it was what I focused on as I sat up completely and crossed my legs, pulling them in close until I was a neat little folded package on the couch, biting my lip and making sure I was okay. "Is Jessica all right?"
"Yes," Eric said, "She is with Sookie upstairs."
I nodded, "Good. What did Pam do with the…" I didn't know what to call that thing that attacked me. Like I said, there earlier, there is a distinction between those who are good, and those who are bad. The thought of her sent my fingers to my neck, where they gently felt for the wound that wasn't there anymore. My eyes flickered self-consciously to Eric, and away almost as instantly as I realized he was already looking at me.
When I looked away, he answered. "Tied her up. Bill and I are taking the both of them to the magister this evening. This whole issue should be resolved by tomorrow."
"Good. Pam went back to the bar?"
"Yes."
"Oh," I said, "I… uh… I wanted to thank her," I frowned a little, kicking the ground and looking down, "I'm a mess," I muttered as I examined my clothes, running a hand through my hair and stopping as I suddenly hit a thick clump of what I could only describe as goo, but when I put my hands in front of my face, I could clearly define it was blood, "Oh jesus," I said, putting my free hand to my mouth to stop a gag. "I must look like shit."
"You've looked better," he said, as I wiped the bloodied hand on my already hopelessly stained shirt.
I nodded, "That's a relief, I guess. Can I go home, or should I stay here tonight?"
"Considering the states of the others, I'd suggest you stay. You are much calmer than them."
"Well considering I have a vat of your blood in me, I should be calm, now shouldn't I?"
"What makes you think it's so much?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes, "No scars, no anything, for one. You look really pale and haven't moved from that chair at all since we've started talking, and one would assume that normal you would be off to find Bill by now instead of holding a conversation with me. You obviously haven't fed. Why don't you just drink a Tru Blood?"
"I'd need more than a sixteen ounce bottle, Adelyn."
I laughed, looking at him with a smile, "You just think it's gross."
"If you're that worried, I could always feed off you," he said, smirking.
I looked down, shaking my head, partially because I was tired, and partially because I knew he was messing with me, "Eric, not funny."
"What?" he inquired, "Oh, right, you did get a lot of my blood, didn't you?" He stood, as if to prove a point, "I couldn't possibly drink from you knowing you'd enjoy it."
I faked a gag, "Don't make me vomit, I'm still a little light-headed. Though I have to admit," I stood, "I do feel okay. A little sleepy, but otherwise fine. Thank you, Eric."
"You are welcome," he said, leaning back and stretching his arms across the back of the couch, "You did well this evening. If you hadn't been here, it's very possible they," he nodded towards the stairs, "Would be dead."
"Isn't one already?" I joked, and then smiled softly, "Once again, thanks. Don't you have to go see the magister soon? It's late. And I think I'll be fine from here on out."
He nodded, "I suppose you are correct, I'll have to track down Bill. He gets terribly over protective once Sookie's life is in danger. It's amazing he allows her out of the house."
I slid my hands in my back pockets, laughing a little, "Eh. He cares. It's sweet. I'd even venture to say romantic. Maybe that's an approach you should try, ya know? Woo her," I could barely finish that sentence without laughing.
"I see your sense of humor is back, and as dull as ever," he remarked, examining me, "Godric was right to help you." He said thoughtfully, "You're quite the asset."
"You going to bloody me up like those V-wolves?" I laughed, "I'd be a killing machine." Tossing out a quick karate chop. At Eric's confused face, "I know. V-wolves. Sounds stupid. Back in Texas, there was this rumor among shifters, probably brought by a couple crazies passing through, that there were some vamps fueling up some werewolves in the Midwest. Like, crazy shit. It's just weird, because that's… kind of what you and Godric have been doing to me," I walked over towards the stairs, "Except you're saving my life in order to keep me around because of what I can do because of the blood." I looked over at him, "I think that's something you should keep from your little girlfriend. She already thinks you're using me to get Sam."
"She's still on that?" he asked, not out of genuinely curiosity, but more so out of sheer amusement. "Send down Bill."
"Got it," I said, "Later." Walking up the steps got easier with each bounce. I think Eric's medical treatment was working out nicely. Once I reached the top, I walked down to the end of the hallway, pounding on the door, "Okay kids, time to break it up. Billy's got to head to the magister."
Bill opened the door, looking rather irritated, "Do not leave this house."
"Eric beat you to the punch on that one," I said, "You're welcome, by the way."
"Thank you," Bill said coldly, "If she is ever – "
"She'll be fine," I said, standing my ground across from him for a moment, "I promise." I liked him more when he wasn't so… brusque. But, of course, my allegiance wasn't to him, necessarily, so it's not as if I had to deal with him, anyway.
He nodded, "Please. She has a way of landing herself into trouble."
I moved out of his way to allow him to walk downstairs, "I don't think that's all that surprising."
He smiled a bit, glancing back into the room at the woman in the pretty white dress before vanishing downstairs.
I looked back at Sookie, "Where's Jessica?"
"I'm here," she said, walking up from behind me. She seemed a little frazzled, but overall all right. No tears. We're good.
I nodded, "Head in here with Sookie. I doubt anyone else is going to come in and start killing, but just in case, you know what to do. I'm going to clean myself."
I ignored whatever it was Sookie said after I turned, because I as good as I was at compartmentalizing, I had to deal with the fact that I had yet again almost died, and this time in the bathroom of Vampire Bill's Olde Home. And as soon as I got in the bathroom, and saw the nasty pool of blood on the floor, I fell back against the door with a thump and shut my eyes.
This was, officially, the worst night of my life.
I needed to calm down. Go for a run. Talk to Sam. But, I couldn't do any of those things because I had to babysit. Again. I walked around my mess, turning on the shower, my breath quivering as I did so, until I could feel tears brimming against my eyelids just waiting for me to break down and sob.
I wasn't even being emotional, if you can believe it. I wasn't sad about Sam. I wasn't angry at Eric. I wasn't pissed at Sookie, or Bill, or Jessica. Hell, I wasn't even worried about dying. It was just… the stress of it all. So much to juggle, so little me to catch it. I think the more time I spent with Eric, the more desensitized I'd become, until the only way I could start feeling something is if I get so much weight pressed on me that even the tiniest little thing will send me reeling. Bottling up every last twinge of feeling does that to you, I suppose.
I thought Sam leaving was the final straw. It broke the dam – that one thing causing a full on explosion of emotional distress.
I didn't cry. Although I felt it coming, it never happened. I had to wash my hair three times until I didn't see any pink running down the drain. I scrubbed my skin until it was red. And when I finally felt some semblance of clean I stepped out of the shower with a sigh, jumping slightly and turning away at the sight of my blood. I didn't want to change back into my ratty old clothes, so I opened the door, "Anyone have something I could wear?"
"Yeah," Jessica said.
"I'm larger than you," I called after her.
She snorted, "Barely. But I'll keep that in mind."
I shut the door again, unwrapping the towel from around me and laying it on top of the floor. I should clean that up. Then again, cleaning wasn't outlined in the job description, so…
Jessica knocked on the door, and I opened it a bit to grab the clothes: a dress of my own. I'd be happier if I wasn't so adverse to dresses. Thankfully my jeans weren't covered in blood, and then could be slipped on underneath Jessica's little black dress.
I left the bathroom, right hand messing up my hair as I turned down the steps, walking down and calling, "Ollie ollie oxen free, guys."
"You feelin' better?" Sookie asked.
"Sure," I muttered, glancing over at her, "You?"
She nodded, "Yeah. Bill seemed pretty sure nothin' else was comin'."
"Well, he's always right," I muttered, "No one's dead. So, we're okay. And if something does come, we will still be okay."
"You seem so sure," Jessica muttered.
I rolled my eyes, sitting on the couch, "If anyone should be sure we're okay, it should be the immortal one, kid."
"I'm not a kid," she snapped.
I rested my head in my hands, "I'm sorry. You aren't worried more about the fact that someone tried to kill you?"
She didn't answer, obviously turned off by my sudden change of mood. I didn't mean to snap, but I did not want to deal with this shit anymore tonight. I wanted to sleep, but that wasn't happening anytime soon. Wishing with such intensity that this night would finally just end, I laid back on the couch and watched Sookie and Jessica sit uncomfortably across from each other, unsure of what to do.
We must've sat there forever once Sookie finally said, "I'm scared."
And I could only close my eyes for a moment, feel helpless in my own right, and mutter, "No shit."
I'd left the Compton residence after Bill had returned. He seemed even more solemn than usual, but I figured a night with the Magister would do that to you. I'd only ever met one in my life, and that was in Texas, but he wasn't necessarily a great guy. Bill went straight for Sookie, and I stood almost immediately, not pausing to hear anyone say goodbye.
I wasn't in the goodbye sort of mood. I just wanted to sleep. But before I went home to Lafayette, I'd driven straight to Fangtasia to pick up whatever they'd inevitably give me tomorrow.
Pam found me first, "Isn't it a little past your bedtime?"
"Not in the mood," I muttered, walking inside and towards the back, "Can I get an advance on tomorrow's product? I need a serious day to myself."
She wasn't buying it, for some reason, "Since when do you ever like to be alone? Don't you get scared, like a puppy during a thunderstorm?"
"Hopefully it won't storm tomorrow, then," I mumbled, "Please, Pam, I just need to get the fucking blood, and get home so I can fucking sleep."
She frowned, "Kitty has claws, or so they say. Here," she did that stupid disappearing act when she darted back and forth so quickly, and handed me two vials of blood, "There's a little extra to keep you busy, since you're single now."
"Fuck you," I said, grabbing the shit and putting them in my bag, turning and running into Eric. I didn't even yell – that's how tired I was.
He raised an eyebrow, "Everything all right?"
"Fine."
"You seem tense."
"I was almost someone's dinner, Eric. People tend to be tense when they are almost eaten." I'd tightened my grip on my bag, pulling it down against my shoulder.
He grabbed my arms, steadying me, "Calm down, you're angry."
"I want to just go home, Eric."
He angled his body towards me, coming as close as he possibly could without touching, a mere centimeter keeping us apart. I could feel this toxic cocktail of the blood, the anger, and what I could only deem as self-loathing welling in the pit of my stomach, all feelings of weariness almost vanishing completely. My body temperature rose, every nerve in my body was just screaming for him. And it took every single bit of self-control I could muster to bite back on the thing that made my fingertips twitch and my chest feel hollow, and hold it in my jaw, clenched.
What's it like, I wondered, to be him? To know that all it took was fleeting curiosity to have me rendered incapacitated, to know that he had so much power over another being. What was it like to sense the electricity coming off my skin, and feel my hot breath against his icy lips? What was it like to be able to stand there and crush everything I'd worked so hard to build, my own little house of cards to be sent tumbling down.
It wasn't a case of the future, though, was it? I'd already ruined any chance of my own happiness with Sam. I'd done it by standing right here, and wanting this so badly I could barely stand it.
And I know Sam would say that it wasn't my fault, and pretend like he didn't care about it. But he would. And the knowledge of my mind being occupied by another would eat away at him until even looking at me made him sick, until he grew to hate me.
I knew it was wrong. It was so wrong, but I wasn't in the business of doing things because they were right anymore. And he was fully aware of what he was doing to me, and he hadn't even attempted to stop, to say that this was all some sick joke, and that he was testing my loyalties — or something equally pathetic.
My eyes stayed locked on his, almost daring him to do it, wishing he would just do it so I didn't feel so empty anymore. So that I could feel guilty without it seeming unfounded, so that I could just say that I was unfaithful, and mean it in every sense of the word.
I swallowed, blinking once as I regained some semblance of movement, but it all felt mechanical. Eric's hand slid up my side, sending a shock through me that sent the hairs on the back of my neck up on end, and I was almost tempted to look away, and try to break this baleful spell he had on me. He turned his head up a bit, knocking my mouth open just a little more without even trying.
It felt like we'd been standing there for hours, but it'd only been a few seconds. My mind was flying by at this lightning-fast speed, and I could only wish, in a most desperate fashion, that this was a dream, or that Eric was also mulling over the same mixture of surprise and confusion that I was.
But, I doubted it, considering he was not under the influence of illegal substances. This fact only pushed my chaotic mind into a deeper frenzy. Why on earth was he was doing this? I'm not just some toy to be played with for a week, and then ignored. He can't just grow bored with me. He can't just throw me away. I'm not just another girl… right? I thought, for some reason I didn't fully understand, that we were, in our own way, friends. Partners. I'd even venture to say family, because he's the closest thing I've got.
But he didn't feel that way anymore. He felt different, and not necessarily in a bad way. It was just so tempting, he was just so tempting. I… I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to live in some alternate universe where this was okay, or even better: not happening.
And as Eric pulled away, mercifully granting me some breathing room, smirk still planted on his features. I felt like I was going to cry.
And that feeling was only drummed on by the fact that part of me was sad out of guilt and the other because Eric pulled away.
"Why did you do that?" I said angrily, almost growling the phrase at him as I stood and walked to the other side of the bar, far, far away from him. I turned around, and shut my eyes tight, trying to convert all the tears threatening to spill over into unrelenting anger.
Eric did not follow me, and for that I was thankful. "Would you have wanted me to continue?"
"Fuck, I don't know," I said, looking up, "I told you! I didn't want you to…" I trailed off… not knowing how to form what I was feeling into coherent English sentences.
"You didn't want me to save your life?"
"I didn't want you to forcibly do this to me," I snapped, turning around, "We were perfectly fine before this, and now," I shook my head, locking my jaw and fervently moving my hands as I continued, "Do you just want to make me miserable? Is that your motive? Do you really hate me that much?"
He stayed silent.
"And, god, as if you need to influence someone to get laid. I mean seriously, Eric, you are plenty attractive. You cannot possibly have such low self-esteem that you'd go after me."
He still didn't respond.
"And I…" I shut my eyes again, winding up against the wall and sliding to the floor, "Jesus, Eric…"
He was beside me in moments, lifting up my head and looking at me, amused, "You are so emotional."
"That's what comes with a heartbeat," I whispered, my voice still carrying an acidic quality that got my point across effectively.
He was close again. I don't know if he just didn't know it because he was so perplexed by my reaction to him, or not, but I was certainly aware. I kept my eyes forward, though, refusing to look at him at all. That is, until he kissed me.
He pulled away and turned my head to him, feeling heavy, wanting to just ask why.
"You don't love me, Adelyn."
"As if I didn't know that already."
He smirked, "But you can't deny the fact that you are… curious, about… this," he said, leaning in and kissing me again.
My heart was pounding, and we could both hear it, even though I tried my best to ignore it. "What about Sam?"
"He's nice," Eric, said, standing up lightning-fast and pulling me up towards him. Pinning me against the wall, he whispered, "But you aren't, are you?"
Weakly, I shook my head. Eric kissed me again, and this time I kissed back. He smirked, going after me with even more fervor, pushing all the right buttons and upping the electricity within me with pure ease. I slid up his shirt, he pulled it off quickly, with a practiced efficiency, mouth leaving mine for a less than a millisecond. He unbuttoned my jeans slowly, though, lifting me against the wall and sliding the fabric off my legs, watching the skin gradually reveal itself as he did so.
And then I woke the fuck up, shutting my eyes tightly and punching the side of Lafayette's couch so hard the noise it made even frightened me. I was sick. Sick, sick, sick. And what's worse is that while that dream was… wrong, in more ways than I could count off on my fingers, I could already tell that I almost desperately needed a change of underwear.
Sick. If only there were some way to go back to the night before, and just fucking leave that house. Of course, that would mean both Jessica (who, despite the attitude, I kind of liked) and Sookie (who, despite the attitude, Eric really liked) would be hurt, or worse. And the fallout from that would suck more than a hungry Pam on a new lesbian dancer.
I stood, walking from the couch into the bathroom, wincing a bit from the shine inside it. I moved a few pill bottles aside to find my toothbrush.
I slept for about fourteen hours, and I was still exhausted. I looked better though, much better than anyone who had gone through last night's events should look. My hair was perfectly tousled, eyes bright and wide with no bags whatsoever, skin tinted with the perfect amount of pink, and, hell, my body wasn't even remotely sore.
If I hadn't still been so tired, I would have felt fantastic. I stretched, spitting out my toothpaste and leaning down to the sink and catching some water in my mouth to rinse with. After all, I was always a bit wary of using Lafayette's cup.
I washed my face, grabbing a towel to dry it off as I walked back into the living room and sitting back on the couch, relishing this time alone.
My zombie-like sleep of the day had left me restless, even though it was now one in the morning. Eric had mercifully given me the night off, and I'd been dancing around thinking about him with a determined yet nervous integrity – I was not going through this again. Though, I doubt my brain could really be challenged in the sex fantasy department after the years I spent with Godric. I don't know where exactly I got all this creativity, but constant flirting and constant sexual tension can, and usually did, lead to very, very, exciting dreams.
And I did not want that sort of relationship with Eric. So, after that evening snooze I had pretty much decided to never sleep again.
Needless to say, I now needed to be occupied. TV wasn't helping. Saturday nights meant television just had to totally blow, I think they (they being those who schedule the programming, of course) want to make everyone of us lonely souls who are forced at home on a Saturday night to feel sorry for ourselves. I had cast the remote aside, wishing I hadn't told Lafayette this morning he could leave because I was "totally fine" so I would have someone to talk to.
I closed my eyes and lay back on the couch. No sleeping, I reminded myself, opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling. I laughed as I did it, too. As if I could sleep, no matter how tired I was, once my head was buzzing, sleeping was never an option. I was staring at the ceiling in frustration, so pissed at my current boredom that, well, staring at the ceiling sounded like a fuckin' brilliant idea.
Last night, Sookie mentioned stopping by the bar for a formal apology and a, "Hey! I'm alive! And I love you!"
But, I couldn't picture that happening. I was still, as dream-Eric poignantly pointed out to me, angry. It had progressed since its beginning, too, like an arc, starting out small and confusing, and reverberating into something large and unabashed, and fading into a severe… annoyance, like I just didn't want to be angry anymore.
It'd only been a day, though. One little day. I couldn't give in now. Call it being stubborn, but I just couldn't admit to him that he was right, about anything, no matter how right he was about some of it all (the lying, for example, wasn't helping me). I was just pissed at his closed mind, and at his moodiness, and at the fact that this bothered me so much. I thought, really, that if it were any other guy, I'd be over it, or him, by now.
And I wasn't, so that had to count for somethin'. Whether that was a good thing, though, I was unsure. This whole Sam thing normally wouldn't be bugging me so much anyway. I just couldn't take all this stress anymore, I suppose, and thinking about him was a lot easier than thinking about anything else. I liked him more.
I crossed my arms behind my head, and crossed my left leg over my right, bouncing my foot in the air.
It was notably exasperating that while Eric was away, Sam commandeered my thoughts. How cute. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my phone and flipping it open – to see that I had five missed calls from one Sookie Stackhouse, all of which I had acquired during the day.
I sat up. Navigating myself to my voicemail and then listening to hear Sookie explain her sudden need to call me five times, "Adelyn? Jesus, where are you? I understand not comin' in," I blinked. I still had a job at Merlotte's? Well, Sam didn't seem to be one who'd fire me just because of a personal grudge, but I was still a bit surprised, and more so relieved – I did need the extra cash to pay for food, clothes, and the part of the rent and utilities Lafayette stuck me with. "But not callin' in is… unlike you. Everything okay? Lafayette says you've been asleep… if you wake up, and need to chat, feel free to give me a call. I… I really can't thank you enough for what you did last night."
I wished I could erase last night out of my memory. I liked the Sookie who disliked me more than this new model. She said some more stuff, but I went ahead and deleted the message, sighing.
I dialed the telepath, knowing I'd get an answer. After all, it is one on a Saturday. "Adelyn?"
"Hey," I said, "I just wanted to tell you I'm fine. Totally fine." She said that she was glad, and went on to thank me again. I dealt with that as nicely as I could, walking outside and feeling even more alert than I already was. "Yeah, Sookie, really. I'm fine. I promise ya'. So…" If that was all, I was expecting a, 'Yes, bye, Adelyn!'
But that's not what I got. "I told Sam what you did."
Never have I wanted to hang up more on any living being. Living is the key word there, of course. "Sookie, I have to go."
"I – Okay. But you should know that he seemed really impressed."
"I don't need to impress him, Sookie," I sighed.
She spoke faster, "Look, I know you care about him. You made that pretty damn clear last night. You can remain aloof about everything else, but you care about Sam. So, I know that if you just talk to him—"
"Sookie," I said, "With all due respect, I can handle my own shit. I don't need you playing middleman between Sam and I like we're in high school. I have to go." I shut my eyes, anger and frustration flaring up inside of me, coupled with this nagging growing and settling in the pit of my stomach.
"Bye," she rushed, sounding like I'd hit her, and she recoiled.
"Bye." I stood there for a moment. Still. The only thing I could hear was the humming of cicadas and the occasional whisper of the wind. It was peaceful, calm, free.
Languidly, slowly, I dropped my phone to the ground, and pulled off Jessica's dress, and shifted.
Running always made me feel better. The feel of the ground beneath my feet, scooping up the earth and using it to shove me forward, faster and faster until I was going so fast my lungs hurt trying to take in a breath, and my legs began to sear with pain, trying to lock up and stop me. But I kept going, adrenaline pumping through me like it was now my blood, and my brain only thinking one coherent thought: Go.
It wasn't dark. The clouds had taken on this eerie glow, outlining their heavy gray with shining white as they sunk down, heavy with rain, towards the earth. I could smell a storm coming, and didn't give a shit right now. The trees towered over my smaller form, reaching up to touch the sky, mix their leaves with the entrancing pull of the moonlight. I was dark, in every meaning of the word, and the feel of the moon hugging me, wrapping me up in light for once, made me feel better than a vat of Eric's blood.
Though the latter was what kept me alive, and what still allowed me to feel fine, even when my limbs now ached, wishing the blood to make them better, and my face now remained set in a frown, still not fully satisfied.
Spending my night as an animal still didn't feel… right. It was closer, I guess, to what I wanted but I still couldn't put a stop to this weird unfinished feeling. Nagging tension. It spread through me slowly, warm and sweet like honey, but instead of bogging me down and making me slow and sleepy, it made me edgy. Like a wave of frustration, building up inside of me and just begging to be expelled. Released.
I slowed down, looking around to see where I was. The woods around here weren't as thick as they looked. Once you got inside, the trees offer ample room to move around, it just seemed as though they were impenetrable. Then again, I was rather small and close to the ground, so my perspective may have been a bit skewed. Either way, I made my way out of the trees, when a huge ass boom of thunder sounded around me.
I jumped, falling back against the ground and a little and looking around to make sure no one was around to see that. Then I realized it didn't matter because I was not human at the moment, and started walking towards the road to make my way back to Lafayette's, so I could shower and curl back up on the couch and find something, anything to watch on TV, even if it was some lame What Not to Wear rerun.
The rain picked up, and I went a little faster towards the opening after the trees, feet sinking into the mud as I tried to trek through the moistening ground.
Well, fuck.
I shifted yet again, standing and sliding my underwear back on, pausing before repeating the same process with the dress. I really don't think Jess is going to want that back. But, despite its slightly wet condition, it did fit me really, really well. I glanced inside, not yet wanting to forfeit to the night and go back inside where sleep was my only real option. So, I took another walk.
I dropped the rest of my clothes off inside the house, spinning my bare heel easily against the slick grass to turn around, and starting to walk, studying my phone as I did so.
It was nice, being able to just walk, even in the rain, without worrying about anything. I was completely alone, and I liked it. Being able to just close my eyes and move without anyone watching me, studying me, judging me. It was nice. Like, a period of time all to myself, so I could just… be.
Part of me was masochistic. Not the good kind, either. And, you do know what I'm talking about. The good kind of masochism is the kind where one hurts themselves in order to benefit another. It's nearly martyrdom. Not that I necessarily condone martyrdom, but I don't seem like the self-sacrificing type, now do I? No, I was simply one to cause problems for myself, to focus too hard on all the minor imperfections instead of just stepping back and enjoying the whole portrait.
Life for me was good. I had everything I could ever ask for. Of course, I wasn't the happiest I could be. But, nowadays, who really is truly happy? I couldn't name one person who was perfectly content with the life they were living, so my feeling unsettled and somehow dissatisfied is only normal. And while I may not be doing things that were necessarily good, I wasn't hurting anyone who didn't deserve… or wish to be hurt. Dealing V, chasing drainers, all that shit is just part of my life now, and I was going to have to be able to deal with that without making myself feel guilty or sad. Because emotion has no place in this sort of business, I was learning that more and more every day. It just complicated things, created a double standard. A business one, and a moral one. And the two conflicted constantly.
So, it was easier, and much better, if I just disregarded myself. My feelings. Those pesky little things that made me more human than I could afford to be. I needed to be more stoic.
And now, it didn't seem as if this would be such a hard task. I was perfectly capable of separating myself from my work, and separating my work from me. Of course, that would leave me with little or no real life to speak of, but at least I'd have a better shot at actually being happy.
It started to rain just a little bit harder, enough to pull my head away from its meanderings and back to my trek. I ran a hand through my hair, it resisted it a bit more, and I pulled my hand away and had to untangle a few stuck curly strands. I stepped lightly, almost bouncing, one foot in front of the other. I was aware of everything. I could count the number of water droplets on my skin. I could taste the trees and the rain and the sky with each breath. It was interesting, what they felt. How they saw things.
Not something I would ever want, though. I much preferred to be oblivious. It was a lot simpler that way.
By the time I got to the bar – because, inevitably, I'd end up at the bar, the fucking irony of my life was starting to annoy me – it was pouring. Water was falling from the sky in buckets, and I'd situated myself under a heavy tree to avoid most of the downpour. I wasn't going in. I wasn't even going towards the trailer. Honestly, I didn't even leave Lafayette's knowing that I'd show up here. I simply started walking, and winding up here was entirely a subconscious feat.
I suppose it was my brain telling me I wasn't as analytical as I wanted to be. I could try to be a vampire all I wanted. I could not care as much as I wanted. I could rationalize everything I did to make myself feel better, but I wasn't going to be able to escape myself. I was a normal girl put in a pressure-cooker. I was intense, and with that came outbursts of annoying, but vital sentiments.
But that didn't mean I wasn't going to give it all a try. I didn't need Sam to be happy, despite whatever that small part of me that brought me here may think. I could find another outlet for myself. I didn't need him.
Then why did my heart skip a beat when I saw him walk from his car?
I held my breath and darted behind the tree, biting my lip to keep myself as quiet as possible. Peeking between the heavy leaves, I watched him button up his shirt, shaking his head to rid it somewhat of water.
I should leave. This is stalking. Or, at least, some new form of accidental stalking that is probably against the law somewhere. So I shut my eyes and turned around, resting against the tree for a second, when I heard a bark.
"Huh?" I said, opening my eyes and sighing. It was the dog. I glanced back, and saw Sam back by his car, grabbing something and then turning to jog back to his house. I sighed. It was just the dog.
It barked again.
"Shhh," I muttered, "C'mere boy," I said, crouching down as he moved forward and licked my cheek. I scrunched up my face and scratched behind his ear. He barked again. "Shhhhhh," I said, grabbing his head and looking at him in the eye, "Quiet. I don't want him to know I'm here, okay?"
He barked again.
"Fuck you," I muttered, smiling and kissing his head, "I doubt he can hear anyway, rain's so fucking loud."
Another bark. And another.
"Shh!" I said quickly, "What is your problem!" He licked my cheek again and I sighed roughly, "Please, please, please be quiet. I'm begging you."
No bark. I waited. "I knew you liked me," I grinned, standing and turning back the way I came, and directly into a dripping Sam Merlotte.
He seemed unsure of who I was, or if I was really there. His eyebrows were scrunched together, mouth slid to the side in an altogether suspicious expression that, if I wasn't so embarrassed about being caught, I would have found hilarious. "Addie?"
"No?" I tried with a shy half-smile, stepping back a bit to move away from a trickle of water through the tree, wiping back my bangs and licking the water from my lips.
He narrowed his eyes, "What are you doing here?"
"Couldn't sleep," I said, slightly defensive, "I went for a walk. What are you doing up so late?"
"What do you think?" he asked back, obviously miffed by my question.
I put my hands up, in the universal excuse-me-for-asking gesture, and turned to walk past him, "Whatever. Have fun with your friend."
He called after me, "You went for a walk in the rain?"
"So?" I said, turning around.
"You're soaked," he said, "And you're wearing a dress."
"Oh wow," I said, faking shock, "I hadn't realized either of those things! You are so observant, Sam!"
He scoffed, "Will you at least dry off so you don't get raped on the way home. God knows you're just begging for it."
I rolled my eyes, "How chivalrous of you. Because I can't take care of myself, right?"
"No." He said, "You can't."
I huffed, "I can't?"
"You're half naked. It's raining. You're alone. You're an idiot."
"Oh, I think I'll be fine."
"You do?" Skeptical, of course, "Your 'boss' know where you are?"
"Air quotes, Sam? What are you, four?" I laughed, "No, he doesn't. I was taking some time for myself, considering I almost died last night."
"Oh, right, yeah, I heard about that," he said, leaning against the tree, "The great hero who had to be saved by the vampires. Again. Sounds more like damsel in distress to me, personally. I bet Eric really liked helping you out, huh?"
"What do you mean?" I growled, crossing my arms, "You jealous?"
"Extremely."
I laughed, taking a few steps back towards him and muttering, "Just because you got all hot 'n bothered for Bill, doesn't mean I'll feel the same way 'bout Eric, sweetie."
"Fuck you," he said.
"Fuck you," I snapped back, "I cannot believe I never thought of that one before. You did have a shit ton of his blood, didn't you? Must have been a bit…" I smirked, reaching up and touching his lips, "distracting." I giggled.
He pushed me, "You know what? Go ahead. Go. I don't fuckin' care what happens to you."
"Did I hurt your feelings?" I said sharply, as he walked past me pushing me again, I followed after him, "Good. God, I don't even know why the hell I'm here, because you just," I stopped myself short, growling out in frustration and yelling, "You just piss me off!"
"Really?" he said, turning around and walking back towards me, "Why's that? What the hell did I do to you?"
I felt my hands clench, "I don't know!" I shut my eyes, and looking away from him. I was just so mad! So, so incredibly mad! And I didn't know what to do with all this anger.
I guess I could blame the blood for doing this to me, making me overreact. But I couldn't blame it for leading me here. And I couldn't blame it for the single, horrible fact that even though I had the urge to punch Sam's face in, I really wanted to kiss him, too. But I suppose my over-emotional personality would only be further hurt by the intense amplification of V, so no matter what I was feeling, I was almost always going to be contradicting myself. And therefore driving myself crazy.
"You're the one who doesn't fucking trust me!" I yelled, "I mean, what the hell did I do that shows you I'm anything not to be trusted!"
"You fuckin' lied!" he yelled, "About everything! I don't even know who the hell you are!"
"Then how the hell could you love me?" I shouted, shaking my head and cursing under my breath.
"I was obviously wrong, wasn't I?" he said coldly.
I shut my eyes, "Obviously."
"Why the fuck are you here, then?" he asked, "Just to tell me I was wrong?"
"I don't know," I said, "I didn't even want to talk to you."
"Of course not," he said, "You're too bad for me. I don't understand you. You know what, Addie? You're just some overdramatic child who whines whenever somethin' doesn't go her way. You don't want me to accept you, and if I get mad about something, you get all pissed off! You never wanted to be with me, I should have seen it from the beginning. You just used me to make yourself feel better, than ran off to your real boyfriend."
I shook my head, "You really think I'm that shallow? That I would just use you?"
"He calls you every night. You care more about what he thinks than anyone else you know. You stick up for him even though he's a fuckin' murderer! He forces you to make a joke of what you are. And now he has you juiced up to fall in love with him!"
"I asked him not to!" I shouted, "He did it of his own accord. I would have died if he didn't. He saved me, Sam. But I'm never gonna fall in love with him, you moron."
"Right," he said, "It's not like you'll ever be able to admit that anyway." He laughed bitterly, "And he'll definitely never love ya' back. But I'm sure you'll be happy fuckin' him anyway."
"You're a bastard," I snapped, "I'm not gonna fall for him, because I…" I promptly ended that sentence and began another, "Look, it doesn't matter, because this isn't going to work out anyway. I shouldn't have ever done anything, I should have known better. We shouldn't be together. It'll only cause us both more heartache."
"As if you were even affected. You never gave a shit about me. Sookie was right when she told me to stay away from you, I should have listened to her. As soon as I found out who you worked for was the end of this relationship."
"That was not the end of our relationship," I said, scathingly, "This is the end of our relationship. You are an asshole. I…" I could feel myself starting to get all worked up, "I can't do this, with you. I obviously can't change your mind. You don't listen to me, you don't trust me, and you sure as hell don't love me, no matter what you said. So, this isn't worth it. I can't keep stressing out about you anymore. I am not crying over you again. So fuck you. I'm gone."
"You're gonna make me feel like shit about this?" He said, laughing at the irony. Even I could appreciate the fact that he did, out of the two of us, have more reason to dump me. But, I was much too angry to see that.
"I thought you wanted us over," I said simply, "There you go. We are over." I turned.
He was quiet for a moment, letting me walk far enough out of the tree's cover to feel the rain again, "You cried?" he asked, "I made you cry?"
"You're going to do it again if you don't let me leave," I said angrily, "I'm not apologizing for what I did. I am not sorry I lied. I am not sorry about what I do, and who I work for, and who I am. If you can't accept me, then fuck you. I'm done."
Ugh. I loved him. I did. I didn't want to, but I did. It was kind of like the way Lafayette felt about chocolate. He loved it to death, but knew that if he ever took a bite he'd want to slap himself because,
"that shit goes straight to my motherfuckin' thighs, hooka!"
But I couldn't tell Sam how I felt. There was no way that was a good idea. I mean, he was already pissed, now would be the perfect time for a nice, clean break so I can get on working to save up enough money to retire in my thirties.
Sam was the one thing around here that actually made me feel alive, not just some weird facet of the living dead. But I was much too scared to tell him that, because I could only imagine everything going great for a while, and then blowing up in my face because we simply couldn't work. We were too different on certain issues… like vampires, and dealing drugs, and issues normal people don't usually even care about.
But they mattered, and I knew that this was just the beginning of a long string of stupid fights until we became one of those horrible couples who hated the mere sight of each other. And I didn't ever want to hate Sam.
And I really didn't want to have him come to his senses and dump me because he finally realizes that this isn't going to work. I don't think I could deal with that sort of break-up. God, I am such a wimp.
"Fine," he said, starting towards his car.
I was walking with purpose, but also trying not to slip in the slick, wet grass, so I wasn't going very quickly. Sam had turned around, apparently, and ran after me, "Addie!"
"What?" I said, exasperated, and feeling on the verge of tears yet again. Fuck, I hated Eric for doing this to me.
He grabbed my hand, "Come on, I'll take you home. If you stay out like that," He nodded to the dress, "You'll get sick."
"Thanks for the concern, but I'll be okay," I said, moving to turn around, but his grip on my hand tightened. I frowned, his hand was so warm, and I felt so cold and clammy in comparison. "Let go."
"No, you've already almost died once in the last twenty-four hours, you can handle a car ride with me," he tried to make it a joke, but I was still frowning, "Please, Ads, it's ten minutes away in a car."
I sighed, "Fine." I let go of his hand, walking to his car and getting in the passenger seat, automatically staring out the window and feeling totally uncomfortable and embarrassed and awkward and any other shitty emotion I possibly could.
He was too nice. That was one of his problems. He shouldn't be taking me home, but I, with my cute little (now skin-tight) dress, and my big brown eyes obviously hit that part of him that makes him unable to just forget about me. He does the same thing with Sookie. And he'll do the same thing with the next girl.
I felt a lump form in my throat with that, and kept my gaze locked out the window, trying to stop myself from shivering.
"Why the hell are you wearin' that, anyway?"
"I wanted to look pretty for you," I muttered sarcastically, and then relented, "Jessica gave it to me last night, because it would fit. I never changed, obviously."
He nodded, "Why did you have to change?"
"Surprisingly, being a vampire's dinner causes a big mess. Bill's bathroom was covered in blood."
"Yours?"
"Who else's?" I asked, looking at him like he was stupid, but feeling my expression change a bit as he messed with his hair, trying to shake the water from it as we waited for a car to pass us so he could turn out of the bar's parking lot.
"I'm glad you're not dead," he said, glancing over at me before he turned the steering wheel.
I smiled a little, "I suppose I am, too." My eyes veered back towards him, lingering at his collar, slid to the slide a little because of the rain, revealing the spot where his neck met his shoulder. I bit my lip as I kept re-picturing trailing my mouth along that spot, until I slid forward and examined the inside of the car to keep myself occupied.
I slid my hands by the side of my seat, hitting the lever that pulls the seat back and catching myself before he could tell I found said lever, effectively side-stepping embarrassment. I found a couple of pieces of paper in the side compartments, but nothing of value. Opening the glove compartment, I caught Sam's attention, "What are you doing?"
"Snooping," I said with a grin, pulling out a shirt and raising an eyebrow, "Clothes?"
"You've never had your clothes stolen before?" he asked, "Seriously?"
I giggled, "Nope. But I always hide mine, for obvious reasons." I kept looking in the drawer, humming to the Journey song currently playing on the radio. "I have purposefully left my clothes behind, but that just because a couple of drainers were chasin' me outta Hot Shot," I shrugged.
"Of course," he said, laughing a little. I continued looking through his glove compartment, sliding my seatbelt over my shoulder. He continued driving, listening to me hum and shift through his things, without necessarily caring. Maybe he was just happy we weren't yelling anymore. After all, he was trying to do something nice for me, and I was taking it rather well. Until I glanced back over at him, and he was glancing over at me, and I looked forward, and he did as well, and it was just awkward. But, once again, I blamed the blood for that interaction, and also for my sudden need to look up and bite my lip.
"Pull over," I said, glancing at him a little uneasily.
"Why?" He asked, "We're like two minutes away."
"Pull. Over." I smiled a little, feeling a bit more confident, unbuckling my seat belt as he did as I asked, soon putting the car in park and looking at me, confused.
"Yes?" he asked, and I shut the glove compartment, turning and kissing him, hard.
He pulled back a little, giving a nervous laugh before asking, "What ya' doin'?"
Sighing, I said simply, "No idea," and kissed him again, sliding forward and wrapping a hand around his neck.
"What happened to 'we're over'? Splittin's for the best? Fuck you?" he asked, breaking our kiss once more, "I thought you weren't apologizing?"
"I'm not," I leaned over and pulled the lever to push his seat back, pulling him up yet again and pressing my lips to his, "We should break up, but, as you so expressively stated," I slid onto his lap, grabbing the condom I found in his glove compartment with a smirk, "Eric does have me all juiced up. You are so eloquent, I think that's what drew me to ya'," I kissed him again, gently once more, and then tentatively deeping the kiss, running my tongue across his upper lip to better coax his mouth open. "And, jesus," My hands slid to his collar, unhooking the first button of his shirt, "You are so damn cute when you're angry."
He laughed, and I could feel the movement of his chest and the quick rush of his hot breath against my lips. I smiled into the kiss, my grip on his shirt tightening as I felt my head cloud, blood draining to my core as my body grew hotter. My lips felt like they were on fire, each touch lighting them anew and leaving me searching deeper, more fervently.
He roughly slid his hands up the skirt of my dress, pulling my hips forward before planting his hands on my ass. I unhooked our lips and kissed down his neck, the feel of his scruff against my anxious mouth made my ears buzz. I unbuckled his belt, and he pushed my hands out of the way, looking back up at me once more, "Somethin's telling me this isn't the greatest idea, Ads." He moved his head to catch my lips, despite his previous sentiment, and I bent to kiss him back, unable to fight the grin on my face.
"Sam, I…" I shut my eyes, opening them quickly and looking at him determinedly, "I really like you, even if you're kind of a dick, and I'm not… you know," I said, leaning in and pressing my lips against his, "Do you understand?"
I looked down again, pausing even though I had this feeling that he would understand whatever it was I was trying to say, even if I totally didn't. He was a lot better at understanding me than I was, I'd decided, it was like some instinctual thing. He just knew shit. Not like Sookie did, of course, but he had this thing about him, like he could just tell what was up. Maybe it was a dog thing. I wasn't sure.
I was sure that I still couldn't stop smiling. I felt like I'd just divulged a secret, one that made me both giddy and simultaneously hot. It was kind of exciting, and at the same time, sweet, something tiny in between the two of us, that no one else knew. And even if I hadn't gone full-blown with my confession, I nearly had, which was enough for Sam, because he took about a second to pull me down to him once again and kiss me fiercely. Heat fizzled through me, pooling down between my legs. My hips slid far enough forwards that the seam of his jeans pressed against my throbbing center the friction caused by the contact nearly driving me insane on its own, and the feeling of his excitement beneath me only furthered my impatience. I pulled back once again, using the slight space between us to undo his pants.
He grabbed the condom I'd found in his glove compartment and melded our mouths yet again, soon muttering a, "Head," in a slightly cryptic attempt to keep me aware of how close I was to the roof of the car, and helped me quickly slide onto him in one swift motion. I'd felt lightheaded for a moment, as if everything around me was moving much faster than I could ever realize it, but that all came crashing down as he thrust upwards, as I braced my arm against the window, and the other on the chair's armrest and lifted myself to work against him, the movement was surprisingly easy, and each touch of our hips pushing him deeper inside me until the only thing I was truly comprehending was the constant sound of the rain hitting the car, monotonous yet methodical, and a heavy counterpart to the vague echo of the feral, frenzied sound of slightly angry, totally over-emotional, late-night car sex.
I'd pushed him back in order to give myself more room to push myself harder against him, the tension building in my lower half becoming more and more unbearable, but I didn't want the moment to end, and instead willed this moment to last as long as it possibly could.
His mouth moved to my neck, roughly grazing it. The feel made me gasp, as my grip tightened on the sides of the car until my knuckles were white, and my hands felt like they were mere milliseconds to cramping, but the feeling never actually arrived. "Sam," I whispered, breath rough and quiet. Everything was so very quiet, now. Nothing except the intense pressure below me mattered, feeling so excellent and getting better and better. I came down over the edge so hard I could barely stop myself from falling against him, panting ridiculously loud and barely even registering he had followed my lead seamlessly.
I sat there for a moment, catching on to the end of the song playing on the radio with an almost effortless ease, as if I'd been subconsciously singing along this entire time. My, "So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye," had less oomph behind it as Freddie Mercury, but its simple breathy drawl had some merit. And the whispered sound effects as my head nodded to the drum beat was amusing enough to earn a laugh from my counterpart. I grinned, "So you think you can love me and lay me to die," my voice cracked a bit on that last part, but I was singing so quietly it didn't really matter. The radio was lower than I remembered, or maybe my ears had just become immune to all other sounds. "Oh, baby, can't do this to me baby," I giggled, "Just gotta get out, just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here." More sound effects. More laughter from Sam, and he brought a hand up to my chin, turning my head and kissing me tenderly, making me involuntarily giggle yet again and kiss him back, lips barely touching his because my neck didn't want to stretch that far. After all, I felt like my body had turned into jell-o.
I moved pretty damn quick when I saw lights behind us. "Shit," I said loudly, sitting up quickly and trying to blink away that post-sex glaze from my eyes, losing my balance and falling back and hitting something, because lights began flashing everywhere causing me and Sam to both simultaneously flip out. I repeated my former, "Shit!" with much more intensity, and he said something like, "What the hell did you do?" That made me roll my eyes but Sam moving forward with me on his lap sent me directly into the steering wheel.
"What the fuck?" he yelled.
My eyes went wide, "That was your fault!"
"Was not!"
"Yeah!" I said, nodding like I was speaking to a two-year-old, "It was."
"Well maybe jumping me in the driver's seat wasn't such a good idea, huh?" he growled.
I snorted, "As if you didn't enjoy it. Geez."
Then there was a knock on the window, effectively shutting us both up. We looked at each other, and then at the flashlight peering in at us. I began buttoning his shirt, doing so fast enough to even get a nod from an impressed Sam, who looked to Andy Bellafleur and said, "Uh, hey."
"Hi," I said meekly after him, feeling naked despite the fact that I was fully clothed.
Andy looked between the two of us with a look of obvious surprise, "Um… your hazard flashers are on," he pointed to the lights still going off around us, "You okay?"
"Fine," I said quickly, "It was an accident."
Sam nodded, "Yeah, total accident. The button to turn 'em off got stuck, but," he leaned forward, flicking it and then hitting it, as if that made a difference, "Fixed it."
I turned my head away from Andy to roll my eyes. The detective coughed once, "All right. I'm… I'm sorry to… uh… interrupt."
"Thanks Andy," Sam said, hitting my leg once he saw me trying my hardest to stifle my laughter.
"Yeah," he said simply, turning for a moment and then looking back at us, "I wouldn't make, uh… this a casual thing. Just sayin'."
"I think we learned our lesson," he said, nodding towards him, and then pushing me off him and into the passenger seat, "That was your fault."
I turned, situating myself and grabbing my seat belt, "You could've said no," I shrugged, pulling the belt across me, buckling it.
"Like that was even an option," he said, "You are gorgeous, and very persistent."
"Yeah, I guess that's true," I conceded with a grin.
He started the car, finally moving to complete our drive to Lafayette's. "So," he said, "We're cool?"
I laughed, "I don't think we're ever going to be completely cool, Sam." There was a lot of truth to that. I knew we wouldn't be able to go very long without another fight, considering our circumstances. But just because we knew how to make the other effectively pissed off, and were kind of good at doing said action, didn't mean this couldn't work. We'd just be one of those couples who fought and fucked and loved each other. Sounds cute, don't it?
Looking back over at him, I smiled a little, "But I kind of like it that way. We'll never get bored."
He pulled up in front of Lafayette's, and we both said goodbye. I got out of the car, took a few steps towards the door, and then decided to run around and knock on his window, as he rolled it down. "What?" he asked, "Forget something?" he looked to the passenger seat, and I rolled my eyes.
"I love you." Pause. It was like the world froze for a moment to rub my face in the fact that that did not feel like such a big deal. At all. Why did I have to be such a girl about this shit?
Sam's snarky answer made me want to punch his face in, "I know."
"That's not what you're supposed to say," I enlightened him, "Customarily, a different phrase usually follows such a statement."
He laughed, "That's what you get, Addie," he put the car in reverse, "See you tomorrow?"
"Oh you suck!" I yelled, as he started backing up, grinning.
"Don't be late!" he yelled back, "You should have called tonight, by the way. We could've used ya!"
I looked down, grabbing my now sopping remains of my clothes, fishing my phone out of the mess and jogging up to the door, thankful it was unlocked as I opened it. I moved to the back to find the washer, dumping my clothes inside and fishing around for a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, anything other than this dress that was mercilessly clinging to my skin. Peeling that off was incredibly uncomfortable, like taking off a damp swimsuit, and I'd never thought I'd enjoy the feel of clean clothes more ever again.
I'd made my way back to the couch, falling against it and looking up at the ceiling, smiling.
I had mixed feelings about Tara. Lafayette was constantly telling me to be nice to her, considering she'd just lost her boyfriend and all that. I hadn't been around here all that long, and had never seen the girl smile, so I wasn't sure how not to be nice to her.
I'm not good with sad people. Crying freaks me out, and Tara also happened to get rather rude when she was upset. Which is why she snapped at me when I'd stepped behind the bar, asking me first who I was, and secondly what I was doing here. Not in those exact words, but you get my drift, right?
"Adelyn," Lafayette answered for me, "She's been the one covering for yo' lazy ass."
I gave Lafayette a stern glance that said, "Stop talking, it'll yell at me," without my actually saying those words. Of course, it did nothing at all.
"You're fuckin' Sam?" she asked, looking at me as if she didn't believe this statement.
I turned abruptly, "Who told you that?"
"I don't know which of ya'll could do better," she said, "But somethin' about that just don't seem right."
She never answered my question, so I looked over to Lafayette, "I didn't say a word, girl."
"Everyone's fuckin' around here," she muttered, "'cept me, of course. I'm doomed to spend the rest of my damn shell of a life alone," she reached for the Vodka in front of me and poured it into a glass, taking a swig while closing her eyes, "Fuck me."
I looked down, eyes wide. Of course, the almost pathetic state of Tara was not something I should concern myself with, so I sighed, and wiped a couple of glasses before the first few customers worked their way in.
Ignoring Tara was no easy feat, but I felt as though I was doing it well enough. I'd almost forgotten she was there until Sam made his way to the bar and tried to get her to stop drinking all the booze, which made sense to me. She got angry, he ended up sending her home, Sookie volunteering to drive her back to their house.
Sam looked over to me after the argument, which I only half-listened to, because I really didn't care nor did I view it as any of my business, and said, "She's usually not so…"
"Down?" I offered, "Can't blame her, I suppose."
"It's been a long time, though, hasn't it? That happened just before you showed up here."
I shrugged, "It hasn't been all that long. From what I hear, she's been going through cycles, and now it's all bad again."
"Well, maybe it's good for her, you know?" he asked, "Like now, she can finally move on. A new phase. Change."
"Everyone around here could use a change," I mumbled, "No time like the present, right?"
He nodded thoughtfully, looking over at me and saying, "You're right."
I grinned, when my phone buzzed in my pocket, begging for my attention. "Hello," I said, answering the call from Ginger, the girl who ran the bar during the day. Though I doubt 'ran' would be the right word.
"Adelyn?" she said loudly, "Is that you?"
"Yeah, Ginger, you called me," I said slowly, turning away from the bar, "Everythin' okay?"
"I don't know what to do!" she yelled, "It's all so much, and I don't know what to do!"
"Calm down," I said, as she continued her string of panicked phrases, and I repeated myself yet again before saying, "What's wrong?"
"The bar's on fire!"
Fuck.
Okay! That's all for this chapter. It's probably one of the longest I've ever written, and I hope that makes you happy.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
So, next chapter will be chock-full of action, and we're nearing this story's completion. I know, it's sad. I will be adding season three goodies, but not too many because I don't want that plot interfering with mine.
The most important part of this A/N is the following: I will probably write a sequel for this story. I have ideas for a good follow-up story, with less romance and more action. It'll still feature Adelyn, in all her glory. If that's something you would be interested in reading, sound off in a review! If not, sound off in a review anyway!
END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE!
Now, drop a review! I wrote over 11,000 words for you! You can throw a few my way!
Besides, reviews brighten my day. :)
Oh, and I really hope you can appreciate the cleverness of my chapter title. It made me giggle.