I am a citizen of the planet-Teaser
I am a citizen of the planet
Author: Eena
Rating: M, very much so
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Category: AU, The Vampire Diaries
Spoilers: Everything’s game, and about to be turned on its head . . .
First of the Teasers:
”You’re staying away from Greg-it’s part of our deal.”
He looks at her, in that way that screams that he’s not seeing her. She doesn’t like it, doesn’t like how often she finds people looking at her in that way. It makes her want to shout, to rail, to have a full-blown tantrum in the way she used to when her mother refused to buy her a chocolate bar at the store. It’s the most inappropriate response in the world, but it’s sadly also the most fitting.
She thinks she would happily rip off this other girl’s face if only she wasn’t scared of what may lay underneath.
“I have memorized your list,” he says finally, his voice even and calm-a complete contrast to the way her voice rises and falls with almost every other sentence. “There is no need to remind me of my responsibility.”
And she’d leave it at that, but she doesn’t trust the guy (doesn’t really trust anyone these days, and that itself is shamefully sad because she knows that she’s put herself in there with everyone else). She’s not known for patience, for more any level-headed behaviours at all. He’s wandering her room, touching things here and there, looking at everything with a detached sort of curiosity. She wants to slap his hands away from her things, to protect some of these trinkets of a past (false) life from the taint of his fingers. The urge is so strong that she has to curl her hands into fists, nails digging painfully in the flesh of her palms to keep her hands under some semblance of control.
“I saw how you were looking at him,” she pushes forward even as she steps back away from him. Her room’s not big enough to give her the distance she needs from one of his kind, so she settles for hovering by the doorway while he takes a seat at her desk. “You’re usually pretty cool, pretty collected, but for one second there-I thought you were going to rip his heart out right in front of his mother.”
“Don’t be ridiculous; my table manners are far more refined than that.”
“This isn’t a joke, I know that your kinds hate each other-but this real life, and this is a real town. The Lockwoods are the closest thing we have to royalty here, and I’m pretty sure that makes Greg the damn prince-and he doesn’t even want to be a werewolf. Katherine forced him into being one, and he’s just trying to survive the change. He’s not part of this war thing between the two species.”
“He’s a wolf,” is the indifferent reply. “He’s a part of it, whether he likes it or not.”
She feels like crying, like ripping out her hair and wailing at full force. It’s always the same with these guys, always all or nothing. “You gave me your word . . .”
He looks at her then, blue eyes hard and sharp and utterly terrifying. “You think that this is my hangup, that I’m dragging on something that’s always existed and maybe I’ve forgotten the true reason for all this bad blood. But that’s not the case. I’m an Original vampire-I was there when this started and I remember every single damn detail about this war-vividly. Would it surprise you to learn that they started it all?”
It doesn’t, because she doesn’t believe him (doesn’t believe anyone these days, but she doesn’t have the time or the will to think of all the reasons why). “Werewolves are almost extinct, aren’t they?”
He shrugs. “Just because we are winning doesn’t mean they didn’t start it.”
She narrows her eyes at him, mouth set stubbornly. “I don’t like games, Maththias, or riddles for that matter.”
He gets to his feet and offers her a wide, open grin (and it takes too much willpower not to shudder at the glint of his white, white teeth). “I imagine you like prophecies less, Miss Gilbert. And call me Matt-I rather like the nickname.”
She should let him go, but she’s not one to let the last word slip through her fingers. “And I prefer Charlotte, but you haven’t picked up on that yet, it would seem.”
The smile never fades, never dims, never changes. “Then, I offer you my fondest farewell for the moment, Charlotte. I’ll be in touch.”
He’s gone before she can blink, out the window without so much as a whisper.
Charlotte Gilbert stands in the middle of her room and shivers.
Author: Eena
Rating: M, very much so
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Category: AU, The Vampire Diaries
Spoilers: Everything’s game, and about to be turned on its head . . .
First of the Teasers:
”You’re staying away from Greg-it’s part of our deal.”
He looks at her, in that way that screams that he’s not seeing her. She doesn’t like it, doesn’t like how often she finds people looking at her in that way. It makes her want to shout, to rail, to have a full-blown tantrum in the way she used to when her mother refused to buy her a chocolate bar at the store. It’s the most inappropriate response in the world, but it’s sadly also the most fitting.
She thinks she would happily rip off this other girl’s face if only she wasn’t scared of what may lay underneath.
“I have memorized your list,” he says finally, his voice even and calm-a complete contrast to the way her voice rises and falls with almost every other sentence. “There is no need to remind me of my responsibility.”
And she’d leave it at that, but she doesn’t trust the guy (doesn’t really trust anyone these days, and that itself is shamefully sad because she knows that she’s put herself in there with everyone else). She’s not known for patience, for more any level-headed behaviours at all. He’s wandering her room, touching things here and there, looking at everything with a detached sort of curiosity. She wants to slap his hands away from her things, to protect some of these trinkets of a past (false) life from the taint of his fingers. The urge is so strong that she has to curl her hands into fists, nails digging painfully in the flesh of her palms to keep her hands under some semblance of control.
“I saw how you were looking at him,” she pushes forward even as she steps back away from him. Her room’s not big enough to give her the distance she needs from one of his kind, so she settles for hovering by the doorway while he takes a seat at her desk. “You’re usually pretty cool, pretty collected, but for one second there-I thought you were going to rip his heart out right in front of his mother.”
“Don’t be ridiculous; my table manners are far more refined than that.”
“This isn’t a joke, I know that your kinds hate each other-but this real life, and this is a real town. The Lockwoods are the closest thing we have to royalty here, and I’m pretty sure that makes Greg the damn prince-and he doesn’t even want to be a werewolf. Katherine forced him into being one, and he’s just trying to survive the change. He’s not part of this war thing between the two species.”
“He’s a wolf,” is the indifferent reply. “He’s a part of it, whether he likes it or not.”
She feels like crying, like ripping out her hair and wailing at full force. It’s always the same with these guys, always all or nothing. “You gave me your word . . .”
He looks at her then, blue eyes hard and sharp and utterly terrifying. “You think that this is my hangup, that I’m dragging on something that’s always existed and maybe I’ve forgotten the true reason for all this bad blood. But that’s not the case. I’m an Original vampire-I was there when this started and I remember every single damn detail about this war-vividly. Would it surprise you to learn that they started it all?”
It doesn’t, because she doesn’t believe him (doesn’t believe anyone these days, but she doesn’t have the time or the will to think of all the reasons why). “Werewolves are almost extinct, aren’t they?”
He shrugs. “Just because we are winning doesn’t mean they didn’t start it.”
She narrows her eyes at him, mouth set stubbornly. “I don’t like games, Maththias, or riddles for that matter.”
He gets to his feet and offers her a wide, open grin (and it takes too much willpower not to shudder at the glint of his white, white teeth). “I imagine you like prophecies less, Miss Gilbert. And call me Matt-I rather like the nickname.”
She should let him go, but she’s not one to let the last word slip through her fingers. “And I prefer Charlotte, but you haven’t picked up on that yet, it would seem.”
The smile never fades, never dims, never changes. “Then, I offer you my fondest farewell for the moment, Charlotte. I’ll be in touch.”
He’s gone before she can blink, out the window without so much as a whisper.
Charlotte Gilbert stands in the middle of her room and shivers.