The Call And The Cold
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own any of L.J. Smith's wonderful characters or any of her other creative imaginings.
Author's Note: I never got reviews for my last fic and was hesitant to release this one, but alas here I am again, same old same old. If you could I would really appreciate a review, suggestion, comment or two. I can't make it better if you as the reader don't tell me how. Happy reading.
Chapter One: A Cold Beginning
It was cold outside. November was a bitch. Ice storms and frigid temperatures were all the wretched month had to offer besides Thanksgiving holiday. And he had no taste for turkey. Outside his small shoreline hotel window a winter wind blew across the patio hard and relentlessly. Inside the hollow room the threadbare curtains rustled in the strong breeze. Yep, this was not the day to go outside. It was freezing, blustery, and the twitty local weatherman even hinted at the possibility of an ice storm. What the hell did he know anyway, weathermen were never correct?
Ash didn't give a damn, it was Boston not LA.
He contemplated going out to catch a movie or find a club where he could get lost in the crowd. Today was not the day he really wanted to think too much about. In fact the less thinking he did the better he was sure to feel. After weighing the odds, Ash decided to go club hopping. A quick stint in the shower and he was almost ready to go. Crossing the room toward the Spartan bed he picked up the outfit he had laid out earlier and proceeded to put it on. The shirt was a little loose and the pants an inch or so too long. But he knew no one would care much about his clothing. A look in the mirror validated that thought. He wasn't ruggedly handsome or classically attractive in the Byronesque fashion but definitely a heart stopper. Ash flashed a sharp-toothed smile at his reflection, his expression a blend of sensuality and arrogance. His hair was a mess though. He grabbed the nearly toothless comb from the vanity connected to the mirror itself and combed his wet hair back so it wouldn't drip in his face. He hated that.
The shower had felt nice; it relaxed the tension from last night and gave him much needed time to think about the way things were going.
It would be a year, give or take a few days, by the end of the month. Twelve months since they had last talked face to face. Three hundred and sixty five days since they had parted. Three hundred and sixty five times twenty-four. Ash gave up on that trail of thought, in his head it sounded romantic but he didn't want to actually write down his math. The numbers that would be on the paper wouldn't disappear as rapidly as those in his mind. And besides what was the satisfaction he would accomplish by reminiscing? Why not get out of this dim apartment and scope out some of the brighter side of life?
A wave of restlessness inundated his senses forcing him to plop down on the bed in a way that sent the bedsprings creaking and the comforter rising and falling from the mattress. His arms outstretched over the sides of the odorous bed Ash reached for some sense of calm to fill him, to patch up the holes that were eating away at his heart his sense of focus.
He missed her.
Damned! But he missed her. One year. A year of hard work, optimism, and the desire to better himself--prove his worth. All for nothing. Circle daybreak. Kindness, compassion, honesty. That light at the end of the tunnel, her voice, guiding him through one of the hardest periods in his life. All of the above went against the grain. The grain of what had been Ash. But not anymore. That pathetic boy who took everything for granted was now the lovesick man moaning over the foolishness of that boy. Now he was starting to sound like some bad nineteenth century poet. He grunted in self-disgust.
Ash rolled his head in an angle that mismatched the position of his body, his wrinkled forehead nudging his shoulder. For the first time in his life Ash felt alive. The past year with that spark of hope for the future, a future with her had filled in that part of him that had been killed somewhere along during his childhood. Now that sensation of completeness was gone. Duh. That was what soul mates were all about. Love and tomorrow.
She was gone now. Lost love and yesterday. So much for going out tonight it seemed that his only companion in this crappy hotel room was going to be nostalgia.
No.
Ash leapt to his feet with all the grace and stealth of his ancestors a feral smile on his face. He didn't need her. Her call today. Her soothing voice. Loving---
No.
Ash raked his fingers through his halfway dried hair, and made a swipe at the keys thrown haphazardly onto the marred nightstand next to the telephone. He was going out. Cold or no.
Ash left the room with a slam of the rickety door unaware that the cold inside was the only kind that could penetrate the skin of a vampire.
* * "You know I really hate high school. I really do. I mean when else in your life are you so eager to be younger and older at the same time? It's like a Twilight Zone kind of paradox you know? Which leads me to the conclusion that high school is indeed completely pointless. Nobody remembers anything from the age of 14 through 18 except the 'might-have- been' and that popular girl who appeared on nearly every page of last year's class yearbook! Ugh. I don't know, I'm sorry I just get so mad sometimes," Darcy Merrington was short but forever sprouting one opinion or another.
Darcy had Advanced Chemistry with Mary Lynette fourth period. The duo sat in the back of the room at the table with the yellow gum stuck under it and the obscene language dashed by a bored or courageous student years ago. There science teacher knew so much about chemistry but delivered hardly any of it to her class (because as the students put it she was so old she was at the founding of scientific thought) and so the girls did little other than gab about the first things that came to mind.
"That's okay. I guess I can see where you are coming from but I don't really think the same thing. I have my telescope and my friends and family. If I don't see my picture garishly slapped onto every page of the yearbook I think I can survive," Mary Lynette directed her dark eyes towards her friend. They were wise eyes and just now sad. Darcy saw the sorrow and jumped on it like a vulture on a newly dead carcass.
"What is wrong, tell me now! You didn't get into a fight with Erin again now did you? That girl can be so-" Darcy automatically sided with her friend regardless of the fact that she really didn't know the reason for Mary Lynette's downtrodden expression.
"It's not Erin at all. And I don't think you should say anything more about her. Don't you remember the help she gave you for geometry through those after school tutorials? No, that is definitely not why I-" Mary Lynette this time was interrupted by the teacher who, if her face was any indication was, back from her trip down memory lane and the Precambrian era.
"No talking in class unless you have something to share with us Mara Lynn," the teacher scolded taking no care to perfect her pupil's name. She continued on with the droning lesson.
Mary Lynette gazed next to her, over towards her friend. 'After school' she mouthed and opened her two thousand page Chemistry textbook.
P. 347 "Chemistry is the." The words on the page blurred as the memory of last night's telephone conversation replayed through her thoughts. A chill passed down her spine as she recalled some of the things she had said and left unsaid. She felt empty and alone even though she was surrounded by twenty odd something students her own age. The air in the chemistry lab was always warm but right now she wished she had a sweater or jacket to drape over her shoulders. She felt so cold, inside and out.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own any of L.J. Smith's wonderful characters or any of her other creative imaginings.
Author's Note: I never got reviews for my last fic and was hesitant to release this one, but alas here I am again, same old same old. If you could I would really appreciate a review, suggestion, comment or two. I can't make it better if you as the reader don't tell me how. Happy reading.
Chapter One: A Cold Beginning
It was cold outside. November was a bitch. Ice storms and frigid temperatures were all the wretched month had to offer besides Thanksgiving holiday. And he had no taste for turkey. Outside his small shoreline hotel window a winter wind blew across the patio hard and relentlessly. Inside the hollow room the threadbare curtains rustled in the strong breeze. Yep, this was not the day to go outside. It was freezing, blustery, and the twitty local weatherman even hinted at the possibility of an ice storm. What the hell did he know anyway, weathermen were never correct?
Ash didn't give a damn, it was Boston not LA.
He contemplated going out to catch a movie or find a club where he could get lost in the crowd. Today was not the day he really wanted to think too much about. In fact the less thinking he did the better he was sure to feel. After weighing the odds, Ash decided to go club hopping. A quick stint in the shower and he was almost ready to go. Crossing the room toward the Spartan bed he picked up the outfit he had laid out earlier and proceeded to put it on. The shirt was a little loose and the pants an inch or so too long. But he knew no one would care much about his clothing. A look in the mirror validated that thought. He wasn't ruggedly handsome or classically attractive in the Byronesque fashion but definitely a heart stopper. Ash flashed a sharp-toothed smile at his reflection, his expression a blend of sensuality and arrogance. His hair was a mess though. He grabbed the nearly toothless comb from the vanity connected to the mirror itself and combed his wet hair back so it wouldn't drip in his face. He hated that.
The shower had felt nice; it relaxed the tension from last night and gave him much needed time to think about the way things were going.
It would be a year, give or take a few days, by the end of the month. Twelve months since they had last talked face to face. Three hundred and sixty five days since they had parted. Three hundred and sixty five times twenty-four. Ash gave up on that trail of thought, in his head it sounded romantic but he didn't want to actually write down his math. The numbers that would be on the paper wouldn't disappear as rapidly as those in his mind. And besides what was the satisfaction he would accomplish by reminiscing? Why not get out of this dim apartment and scope out some of the brighter side of life?
A wave of restlessness inundated his senses forcing him to plop down on the bed in a way that sent the bedsprings creaking and the comforter rising and falling from the mattress. His arms outstretched over the sides of the odorous bed Ash reached for some sense of calm to fill him, to patch up the holes that were eating away at his heart his sense of focus.
He missed her.
Damned! But he missed her. One year. A year of hard work, optimism, and the desire to better himself--prove his worth. All for nothing. Circle daybreak. Kindness, compassion, honesty. That light at the end of the tunnel, her voice, guiding him through one of the hardest periods in his life. All of the above went against the grain. The grain of what had been Ash. But not anymore. That pathetic boy who took everything for granted was now the lovesick man moaning over the foolishness of that boy. Now he was starting to sound like some bad nineteenth century poet. He grunted in self-disgust.
Ash rolled his head in an angle that mismatched the position of his body, his wrinkled forehead nudging his shoulder. For the first time in his life Ash felt alive. The past year with that spark of hope for the future, a future with her had filled in that part of him that had been killed somewhere along during his childhood. Now that sensation of completeness was gone. Duh. That was what soul mates were all about. Love and tomorrow.
She was gone now. Lost love and yesterday. So much for going out tonight it seemed that his only companion in this crappy hotel room was going to be nostalgia.
No.
Ash leapt to his feet with all the grace and stealth of his ancestors a feral smile on his face. He didn't need her. Her call today. Her soothing voice. Loving---
No.
Ash raked his fingers through his halfway dried hair, and made a swipe at the keys thrown haphazardly onto the marred nightstand next to the telephone. He was going out. Cold or no.
Ash left the room with a slam of the rickety door unaware that the cold inside was the only kind that could penetrate the skin of a vampire.
* * "You know I really hate high school. I really do. I mean when else in your life are you so eager to be younger and older at the same time? It's like a Twilight Zone kind of paradox you know? Which leads me to the conclusion that high school is indeed completely pointless. Nobody remembers anything from the age of 14 through 18 except the 'might-have- been' and that popular girl who appeared on nearly every page of last year's class yearbook! Ugh. I don't know, I'm sorry I just get so mad sometimes," Darcy Merrington was short but forever sprouting one opinion or another.
Darcy had Advanced Chemistry with Mary Lynette fourth period. The duo sat in the back of the room at the table with the yellow gum stuck under it and the obscene language dashed by a bored or courageous student years ago. There science teacher knew so much about chemistry but delivered hardly any of it to her class (because as the students put it she was so old she was at the founding of scientific thought) and so the girls did little other than gab about the first things that came to mind.
"That's okay. I guess I can see where you are coming from but I don't really think the same thing. I have my telescope and my friends and family. If I don't see my picture garishly slapped onto every page of the yearbook I think I can survive," Mary Lynette directed her dark eyes towards her friend. They were wise eyes and just now sad. Darcy saw the sorrow and jumped on it like a vulture on a newly dead carcass.
"What is wrong, tell me now! You didn't get into a fight with Erin again now did you? That girl can be so-" Darcy automatically sided with her friend regardless of the fact that she really didn't know the reason for Mary Lynette's downtrodden expression.
"It's not Erin at all. And I don't think you should say anything more about her. Don't you remember the help she gave you for geometry through those after school tutorials? No, that is definitely not why I-" Mary Lynette this time was interrupted by the teacher who, if her face was any indication was, back from her trip down memory lane and the Precambrian era.
"No talking in class unless you have something to share with us Mara Lynn," the teacher scolded taking no care to perfect her pupil's name. She continued on with the droning lesson.
Mary Lynette gazed next to her, over towards her friend. 'After school' she mouthed and opened her two thousand page Chemistry textbook.
P. 347 "Chemistry is the." The words on the page blurred as the memory of last night's telephone conversation replayed through her thoughts. A chill passed down her spine as she recalled some of the things she had said and left unsaid. She felt empty and alone even though she was surrounded by twenty odd something students her own age. The air in the chemistry lab was always warm but right now she wished she had a sweater or jacket to drape over her shoulders. She felt so cold, inside and out.