So . . . Mild cursing down there and a reference about "stuff". Just a warning.

Chapter 3: Losing It

It was a matter of simply disappearing off through alleyways and behind houses that brought Vladimir farther and farther away from the man. He'd never gotten a name, but perhaps he didn't want one. After all, despite how attractive he'd appeared at first, the end of their meeting had proved to be very . . . creepy, to say the least.

It wasn't as if he'd be used to meeting random people at this point. It may have happened on almost a daily basis for him throughout his short life, but that really wasn't something you just warmed up to and eventually learned to expect, was it? Apparently not for him, at least.

And the boy couldn't conceal his curiosity. Obviously, something bad was going on, like always, but it had seemed like his life would be perfect from now on. Or at least relatively so.

Wandering thoughts weren't helpful, and the raven-haired teen soon steered his mind off to another overly-discussed subject in his head. Snow. Rather than reminiscing over their past or contemplating their breakup, however, he was trying to figure out what she would say about his tears. No doubt she'd refer to him as a spineless weakling; she'd long-stopped consoling him since her turning. This didn't diminish the pain it brought him to think of her yelling at him, or possibly resorting to abuse. While Vlad was a major masochist when it came to things such as sex, he wasn't really a big fan of being slapped around in general.

A soft sigh escaped the vixen's throat and his running came to a sudden stop. At this point all thoughts of the mysterious stranger had washed out of his mind and become unimportant, replaced by grief and concern for himself.

The great Pravus often wallowed in self-pity. He'd even done it long ago, and even when others thought of him as a sweet, sensitive, caring guy that didn't much matter. In the end the reasons he'd cried came down to himself, and proved that selfishness lies deep down in the souls of all beings.

As he'd run out of the café he'd sobbed and sobbed so viciously because of all the horrible things that had happened to him. He'd been left and lonely, and his families' deaths were the cause. He didn't cry over the loss of his aunt, he cried over the fact that she'd left him, and all that remained was dear Otis and Henry. Sure, there was Snow. But she hadn't turned out so great. He'd lost touch of Meredith and Joss after graduation, and he hadn't seen Sprat and his old friends from the Crypt in ages.

It was like everything that he'd worked to keep built up and alive during his high school years turned out to be for nothing. Hell, he could have just let D'Ablo or Em kill Meredith or Joss. For all he knew, it didn't make much of a difference. Recent events proved that he wouldn't be dying by stake anytime soon, so what was even the point of the battle?

Nothing made sense anymore. So there was only one thing to do. Break it off with his girlfriend and try to get his mind straight before speaking with his best friend again.

The living room was filled with anger and frustration, green eyes locked to obsidian ones. After Vlad had laid down the news, Snow had decided not to take it well.

"After all we've been through together? Fuck, Vlad, we're supposed to be getting married!" snapped the dark-haired girl sitting on the couch, eyes narrowed dangerously at her ex and fangs bared.

"You can keep the ring if you like. It was expensive. You should sell it since I won't be funding you anymore. Use the money to keep you on your feet," the boy advised in return, moving his dark gaze to the floor so he wouldn't have to focus on his former beloved.

The fact that Snow neither flinched nor responded to Vlad's words made him shiver slightly, fearful that something bad would happen. However the next thing he heard was the stomping of boots against wood and the slamming of the door. Looking up, he realized the gothic beauty that he'd once called his was gone. Ending their relationship had been easier than expected, much easier than it had been to release her as his drudge. It was sad how easily people could grow out of love, but this certainly prevented him from wanting to get in to any form of relationship again. In fact, it made him want to burn romance novels. But he was sure he'd get over it.

It wasn't like he needed her, anyways. He'd already come to the conclusion that they weren't working out. He just couldn't figure out why he was still standing, staring blankly at the door. Eyes shifting once again so they could view the clock, the half-vampire huffed. It was nearly 1 in the morning, which gave him the perfect excuse not to call Henry. He owed it to himself to make excuses at least so he wouldn't feel overly-guilty about his nonsense plan, after all.

With that in mind, Vladimir retreated to his bedroom to sleep, which seemed to be the only part of the day he anticipated at the time being.

Ugh, not a very good chapter. I promised something nice, but I have a major headache and can't really figure out what to write. Ohyeah, and I know I was in an annoying talkative mood in the first chapter and there are errors here and there everywhere. I apologize, and I'll attempt to fix it up when I feel better. :3