This one's for my best friend, the worlds' greatest Dorian fan on Earth so we have some, um, interesting conversations since (it is already apparent, I hope) I hate the pretentious pencil pushing upstart (there, I said it.) This one's for you Harris, and for the rest of you, thanks enormously for your support, ~*Skaye P.S. Wango!!! There, ha ha, you thought I'd forgotten.

Jan 18th

Dear Diary, a house party to celebrate the completion of a thesis tomorrow night at a friend of Dr Langsdale's house and I've been invited to attend. Nothing majorly interesting has happened for a while except for the odd explosion at work. Magnesium is a dangerous chemical to work with and it doesn't like fire. I also discovered (after losing my eyebrows) that it's not too keen on high acids either. There is still glass embedded in the lab roof. Luckily vampyre healing powers also extend to eyebrows so I don't look like an idiot. It's going to make haircuts a little redundant from now on, however.

-(Hee hee, sorry, just a little silly moment cos it's late and the mood in this story's getting a little much. Back to normal now, hope that little musing wasn't too out of character, *please don't hit me * Bye, ~*Skaye)

Jan 19th

Dear Diary, well it seems that wherever there is life, light and culture there is also Dorian Gray. Why can I not escape him? I tried to avoid him but as soon as he laid eyes on me, he walked over and gave one of his (now familiar) sarcastic little bows. He invited me to dance. I refused. He tried to talk to me. I ignored him. I was doing rather well until I went outside to get some air and there he was as if waiting for me. He handed me a glass of wine (which I refused) and then sat like a young boy, legs crossed, hands on his stick (something Freudian there, no doubt) on the wall near me. He asked me if I'd missed him. I said no. He leaned in to me closer than I liked and said almost conversationally but a shade darker, "I've missed you." I turned to him and said as coldly as I could, "I hate you." He smiled and said, mocking me, "With all your heart?" I looked him straight in his shining brown eyes and said sincerely, but not truthfully, "With all my heart." In one sweeping movement, he was off the wall and had me in his arms, he looked at me for a second, smiled roguishly and pulled me into a deep, breathless kiss that lasted for almost a minute then, while I was still gasping and trying to find an insult strong enough for the murderous hatred boiling inside of me, he said with a laugh, "How about now?". I practically slapped him and hissed at him, "I hate you." He kissed me again and this time I kissed him back as hard, my lips in pain from being pressed against his so hard. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him I kept telling myself but in a couple of minutes our kisses were real kisses instead of just ways to injure each other and when he eventually released me, we were both out of breath and flushed. I was just about to say something when I heard footsteps in the room leading out to the garden and we separated before Dr Langsdale came bustling out with a grin. "Ah, there you are, Mina, we were looking for you. Professor Fraser was just about to make a speech regarding his thesis, would you care to join us?" I replied that I would love to and walked primly into the house without so much as a backward glance at Dorian. I hope he was angry, I really hope he was. That must be the first time that's happened to him for a change judging by the expression on his face as I saw him leaving later on. Now I am happy. That kiss, however... I'll need to think about that as I can't seem to figure out if it is the single best or worst decision I have ever made. I suppose the very worst decision I ever made was to follow Professor Van Helsing and my dear husband to Dracula's home that night almost fifty years ago but that one is a pretty close second. My lips still ache. That man is strong, I'll give him that and he seems almost invulnerable to pain. This is complicated, he is complicated, everything is complicated. I am losing my mind and it is being replaced by a shadow that is only darkness, teeth and glowing red eyes.

Wow, that was uncharacteristically deep, I'm just reading over what I wrote and wondering at the fact that I am capable of writing so... darkly. This is wandering away from my original intent but what do my readers think? Over to you, ~*Skaye