The Longest Road

The day seemed longer then usual. It was hot and humid out as she stood on the second landing, leaning against the railing with fingers absently picking at paint cracked and curling with age. It was absent, her mind, as usual, elsewhere. A scratch to her scalp around a horn and she turns herself, the gentle curve of a hip all now that cushions her against the hard metal that kept her from tumbling over the edge with the leaning. Now, lost in thoughts, brought her about and moving back into her home. She doesn't even look at the bed still mussed from her sleep. Why does she even bother with it. Sleeping....Her eyes wanders the room and then she snatches up a bag heavy with books and other bits and pieces she needs, dressed normal in jeans and a tank top, flip flops on her feet. She worked hard to conceal her true looks, the horns no longer there for the moment, the eyes that look back at her in the mirror the same vivid baby blues she'd been born with. And, though still fiery red, the curls where shortened to just under her ears and flipped up at the ends in a fly away. Even the old emo glassed she wore was perched on a nose lightly freckled even when she's the color of shadows walking.

She sighs and pushes away. "Off we go then..." Her tone low and quiet, still filled with sadness. There is a moment a smile strays to her lips, the thought of someone there. She could still smell him on herself even after a long bath it seems. The strong arms that holds her when she dreams, the play of his hair tickling her face when he happened to look upon her. The burning ache his lips would capture her's. She always found herself trailing a finger over the markings that graced him, flick of her manicured fingernails against a hoop of the shiniest silver she'd ever seen. The sigh that comes forth the second time is one of wistfulness. Even the thought of him put an ache in her that she'd come to engulf almost hungrily as he would her love for him now a days. Leaving her, as always, amazed how he could want her so badly.

By the time she'd stepped out of her home, hours was spent in wandering. She carried with her the money left behind by her deceased parents, an account shown to her by her Sire long ago, and she spent more on the old books that called to her from their hiding places. Even now, her home was filled with more then she could possibly read but each one seemed to be marked by her from bits of strings to bookmarked slivers of notebook paper. Even post-its carefully tucked in on pages with scribbled words sprawling the colorful little hidden paper squares. Day drew on and by noon she stopped to rest back at home, collasping onto her bed with a groan and stretching herself out. Not even a chance to kick her shoes off and she falls. Drifting swiftly to dreams. But these are not ones she cares to have. Knowing what was Dreaming and of natural dreams when the mind needs a moment to rest itself. So deep and locked that she never moved in that long hour of torment. The adonis with the silver hair that looks like spun spider's webbing when it stirs, sculpted body battered and pale that always made her fingers flex to touch. His eyes haunted and beautiful at the same time. In slumber, her body stands with him along with others. Some familiar and made her heart ache even then, those she thought were family at one point, one that was a stranger stood now close to his side and it made her wary. In this, she saw the looks between them. It was her worry that put this image there. That he might of been attracted to this strange woman and hurt her so deeply that she flinched from even the deep sleep, leaving her shaking and disoriented yet heavy hearted with the memory still vivid of what exactly woke her up. A soulful cry escapes. So many worries. Fears she tries to not let control her. All too human emotions, a demon with a soul, tearing her a little each time. Its this way that tells her how she feels about him, the ache all too strong to be in his arms right now and be reassured. It took half a day before she got this desire and her body would melt in those muscular arms that warmly held her limp cold body close to his chiseled chest later.

A new day and her mind is at ease. These fears of the previous day softened but always there to torment her gently. But this time she had a distraction, a new city discovered, an old familiar smell at the tip of her tongue while she walked with her past. The dark figure moving beside her, talking as if they'd never been apart and her, thankfully, able to withstand the past becoming present once again.
The talked and nothing more. Exploring this new city he joined her, strolling side by side. The hell hound was good enough not to bring back the pain he caused what seemed years but not only a single if even. She'd look at him, totting this huge carrier back behind her, each step making the heavy thing bounce against her curved backside. She was eager to get home and loose herself in its voice she realized as it drew her from his presense, nodding now and again in a semblence of attention. Commenting as need be. For once, her heart was not into it and the late hour finally called him away, leaving her able to return home to hearth and bed. There, she falls into a quiet slumber, locked once more in a fetal position. One body in bed, the spirit sprawled in the Dreams with her cast angel holding her tightly.