Back to the Beginning

[Bo Salvatierra]

Continued From Here

 

 

 

It tickled his forehead, a stray lock of curls that had gotten a bit long in the front, wisping back and forth with the warmer air that was seething out slowly into the night like a relaxed sigh. There were no lights as he wandered along the edge of the small creek, picking at a piece of weed that had been plucked as he meandered probably past where Gabe was comfortable with him being.  No light anywhere, save for the cabin, and a moon that barely lit the sky splattered with millions of stars and the damn crack that didn’t hold his attention for once.

 

It felt a bit like his cabin in the woods… except minus the ever present threat of zombies and killer mosquitoes.  North of L.A. in the summer it was sometimes hard to distinguish between the two.  That damn cabin. Weed was flicked, thumb rubbing absently over the faint scar that still graced his palm from tumbling out his bedroom window.  He oddly missed it, rarely visited anymore. He missed his pile of worn books, now moved to Shadow’s upper floors, his overstuffed battered chair where he sat and stared at a tangle of tubes and glass. The white board he’d scavenged and bolted to a rustic wall. So many things had been scribbled across it, erased, rebuilt, erased. In his head was the entire world, bits and pieces pulled forth when necessary to fit together the infinite puzzle…

 

Nothing mattered at this moment though.

 

His mind was quiet for once in a very long time, light green searching the sky that she’d disappeared into, knowing he would see nothing.  She was gone again, back to New York and her life. Leaving him, broken once more.  A solitary pair. It was meant to happen eventually, just not like this.

 

She’d seemed so well adjusted.  Then again, she always was the more social one.  He was the nerd, the bookworm.  It was the bookworm in him that seemed to see past her current happiness. Something was dark there, something beyond her smiles… the marks on the back of her neck, her reluctance to indulge his curiosity with her power. 

 

There were other ways to find out. 

 

He came to a stop at a point he could no longer see the lights from the cabin, pretty sure he shouldn’t go any further, and sat… ruffled hair visible just above the swaying grass and fingers continuing to torture the same weed plucked earlier.  Chip of chill forced him to pull his favorite battered hoodie hood up, the one so worn at the cuffs they were frayed, still faintly stained with Gabe’s blood.

 

Curt curl lifted one corner of the full lips.  She’d liked him.  That was a first.  Usually his choices in significant others ended up with them chasing her, then treating him like shit because at that point they were questioning their masculinity.  Is that why he was out here alone?

 

Because Gabe seemed ‘different’ when he looked at her? 

 

It was weird, and he was in that lonely state of questioning everything… flopping back to rest his hands on his stomach and stare at the sky.

[Gabriele Salvatierra]

The week had not gone exactly as planned. Perhaps it was better to say it had gone exactly as he expected. With the reuniting of the siblings the thought of a union flitted away and he consciously ensured it stayed that way while the twins tried to somehow make up for nearly nine years apart. An impossible task in the short week that she was willing to stay.

 

The Spaniard's proposal was best forgotten for now. Something was broken between them and he didn’t know what it was and the Czech, well, he wasn’t talking, not to the Spaniard anyway. The soft close of the door had caused a mild constriction in his chest. He wanted to follow but the younger man seemed to want his privacy. Instead he stood now at the sink hand washing the last of the glasses the three of them had used while senses tracked Bo relentlessly as the younger man picked his way through the woods. Lower lip kept dragging through his teeth as the distance got further and further, forgetting to breathe until the Czech finally stopped his wandering.

 

Dark eyes blinked as he realized he had been drying the current glass within an inch of its life. Huff escaped chapped lips as he set the goblet up into the rustic wood cabinet and gently swung the door shut. Towel was draped over the wooden dowel on the wall before bare feet padded through the cabin, big toe pushing the screen door open as he stepped out onto the porch.

 

Shoulder leaned against the worn wooden post, gaze washing over the creek as wet hands wiped on the hem of the black tee. Creek was swollen this time of the year, the fish thick in its waters which was why he thought it was a good time to be here with Bodhan. But nothing about being here seemed to sit well with the Czech. Thumb absently went for the ring on his pinky only to be reminded that the fixture was achingly missing since he had given it back to Maree. Idly he wondered if the darkness around her was as transparent to Bodhan as it was to himself.

 

It had been strange to see them together. So alike and yet so different. While he frowned, she chuckled at his scowl, when he got quiet, she got chatty. They completed eachother in a way that he….

 

He let the thought skitter away like the moon on the undulating creek waves. None of this was about him. It was about Bodhan and what he needed. And right now the Spaniard had no clue what the Czech needed. Back to New York? Back to LA? Stay here? For the vampire to leave?

 

Fingers rubbed his brow firmly as the scowl marred his forehead. Somehow thoughts had come back around to himself and how he was... or was not...relating to the man that made an executioner remember what it was to feel.