BPOV
"Whitlock I'm fully prepared to throw down on this, I'm keeping her!"
Um... hello? In the room here!
I fixed my eyes to his and burned a little indignation in there for good measure.
"You. Yes, you. Oh and unknown asshole number two out there. I'm not a fucking house cat to be kept, either get on with it or fuck off. You're disturbing my sleep. Oh and shut the curtains. It's too bright. Not all of us have supervision. I'd like to keep what's left of mine. These are twenty twenty and I've sued for less." I kept my eyes locked with his. A stare down. This was the most entertainment I'd had in ages. But my face was doing a good imitation of his stone. Those sandy eyes were coming in pretty handy right about now – I doubt I could blink if I tried, those bastards were soldered open now. He'd probably have to close them when he finished draining me. Or not. I'm not sure what the etiquette is on post exsanguination. I'd ask to see a copy of the bylaws or something. Maybe they were unionised and had rules on this kind of shit...
He tittered in his chair. Hmmm... I shall dub thee chairpire!
And oh that little reaction of his requires some effort on my part now. I was planning on waiting for the main event, I was pretty tired despite the unknown slumber time in aforementioned said piece of heaven. I may be dying here but I'm not letting that little gem pass by!
I arched one eyebrow slowly but smoothly at him.
Oh yeah those hours in bed had allowed me to perfect that little movement.
It had always been both, or some half assed twitchy squinty face twist that made me look like someone had just rubbed a lemon straight into my retinas, but a parade of fool after fool and irony repeatedly slapping me upside the head had allowed me to hone that beautiful skill.
It was an art form now and I was fucking Picasso.
But I digress, because HELLO! The big bad scary vamp just tittered like a little fucking girl.
Tittering...?
"Seriously? Gaypire?" Sigh! I'd been looking for an opportunity to use that one for 6 years.
So worth the wait.
He actually looks a little impressed. Not that his face would show it, it has gone back to granite. But if you look close at the eyes it's there.
I am providing dinner and a show. Maybe he'll bury me with the mattress... or at least the pillow.
My stare skills have progressed to magi level, and I've just upgraded them to include the vacant graze for maximum peripheral awesomeness. These were CV worthy skills baby, because when you're stuck in a 12x12 box that smells like piss and is decorated like a poor man's version of one of esbitches neutral rooms you quickly learn find a modicum of interest in the details of the little things or risk shanking some overeager candy striper with a hairbrush. And that's when they withhold the good drugs. Bastards. You have to keep your eyes open or they'll come at you from the sides. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me.
So I catalogued the appearance of one Jasper Hale, apparently Whitlock, unless there was another of these sparkly freaks planning on snacking on me, entering the door on the other side of the room looking like he'd just rolled in from the rodeo. Cliché much? We know you're from the south, it couldn't be more clear unless you rode in on a fucking steer hollering the south will rise again. But I have to admit it's a step but from the previous Ken doll look.
Don't they realised I'm not going to share very far? Maybe they've got other diseased fools here as well. Maybe we're the vampire equivalent of those cheap canapés you get for those guests you reallllly don't want to see but have to feed anyway because protocol and Martha Stewart say so, so you get the cheapest nastiest on-sale shit you can find because they can't say you didn't provide.
Apparently I'd walked into an episode of the twilight zone and they'd decided to make this a special vampire edition... I wonder if there is anyone behind door number two? The list of potential assholes they could bring out is extensive.
Bet he was wishing he'd got a proper taste at my party now. Ha!
We were all still.
And quiet.
And that fucking sun was still shooting lasers in my face, but I was engaged in war so put that shit aside in a box and labelled it pending.
I could feel chair guy was getting fully into this competition as well now. Finally a worthy challenger. But I was determined to hold this down for human kind. Maybe I could get this win etched on my tombstone. Or a rock. Or my bones in whatever ditch they left me in. This shouldn't be passed up without some kind of mark. They may have infallible memories but I don't trust those lying bastards not to cover this up.
And these sheets are really very soft as well.
What the hell are they made of because I'd buy stocks and shares in these bad boys. If I had money. Or shares. Or knew where I could by shares. Where the hell does one acquire shares? (Note to self Bella – wiki that shit). Or had the time to see a return on them. Because people needed to be told about these. Maybe I could come back as a ghost and whisper dark naughty things about them in peoples ears. These were worth sticking around for. I wonder if I could get a cut? I'm fully prepared to discuss my rate and my hours.
And we're still staring.
And chairpire is dilating and contracting his pupils in an attempt to throw me off.
Amateur.
I've seen a lot of shit, and that's what you go with?
Pussy.
I don't know what reaction Jasper was hoping for in the corner, because he was clearly waiting for something from me. Whatever. I was almost comfy, and I didn't ask to be brought here. I'd already died at the side of that road and a thousand times over. This was just epilogue to me. Oh and I was fully engaged in my stare down with fuckjob number one in the chair there. I've got more important things to do here j-emo – go look constipated somewhere else or start putting out some reefer vibes.
Time ambled on.
I fully catalogued the remainder of the room. His fringe is defying gravity. It looks like I could take a stick to it and the hair would win.
More time ambles on.
What is with all the time now?
Jasper has clearly had enough and makes a move.
Right.
In.
My.
Line.
Of.
Vision.
With chairpire.
They are in cahoots.
"Xanax. What the fuck? I'm on my way to major interspecies victory here and you choose now to get involved? You have all eternity. Take a seat and think about something pretty"
He is fixing me with a stare of his own now. Mine is so better.
He's not going to let go of this is he...
Sighing I gestured to him to move out the way and levelled my laser vision back at chair guy "We'll pick this back up yeah? Get ready to be owned bitch"
That would be a lot more intimidating if I didn't sound like I'd just smoked a million cigarettes and then gone all out at a death metal concert... The thought was there though, and this is the most someone interaction someone has gotten out of me with me giving a shit in a while. He should be proud.
"Bella?"
Ok. Take a breath. Don't get stressed. That's when you blackout. And there are no more pills left, and the candy stripers have been warned.
"What happened to you?"
How to answer this... how to answer this...
"Bite me Hale."
Oh no she didn't!
Oh yeah I did.