walking through the streets of Soho in the rain
So. Aiden. I told you I'd tell you about him later. It's hard; I still don't know what I'm feeling.
I was in the church late the other night. I go there to think sometimes. My father used to bring me there, to look at the stained glass, to have a place to relax. A reminder, of the days when we weren't feared and hunted, the days when we didn't have to hide. My parents used to say that's what they dreamed of happening someday. But I'm getting off topic again.
So, I was sitting in the church, and there was someone else there. He's an artist, he says. He draws and writes comic books -- graphic novels, he insisted. (I didn't know there were different types, but he seemed offended that I called them comic books.) He says his next one is going to be about us -- the loup-garoux. He knew all the old stories. He didn't know I was one of them, but he'd come up to the church -- to draw the windows, I think? To get ideas, and inspiration.
And -- get this -- he didn't seem scared. Not at all. Fascinated, and intrigued, and a little bit wary -- but not scared. He was bursting with stories, telling me this and that -- and yeah, I already knew, but I played dumb. Safer that way. I tried to warn him away, because if any of the others found him there he'd be in serious danger, and I don't want that to happen to him. (To anyone.)
I saw him again today, in the square, while I was making a delivery for work. (No, I won't tell you where I work. I've told you too much already for me to feel truly safe.) He called out to me, and chased after me, and he said that all he wanted to do was talk -- but I couldn't dare. I couldn't. He called me "wolf-girl". And I know he means just because I seemed interested in wolves when I talked to him, but -- he can't possibly know how right he is. And I don't know what he'd do if he knew for sure. Turn me in? Run away? Try to hurt me?
I know Rafe and the others would try to hurt him, if they knew. And I don't want to see him get hurt. It's easiest and safest if I just stay away, because I don't want to be responsible for someone else getting hurt. Or killed. I've been responsible for enough death; I don't need more.
But oh, when I look at him, it's like the pit of my stomach goes all fluttery. He's gorgeous, but more than that, he's smart and he's funny and he seems so sweet and kind. If he's really here to find out more about the loup-garoux, if he really believes that we're not necessarily evil, maybe I could make him see, make him understand... maybe he could be the person I'm looking for. (He's certainly hot enough. Heh. Okay, no, now I'm being shallow. He is, though.)
Should I talk to him again? What would you do? I know the smart thing to do is to run far away, especially since he says he's only here for a little while longer before he goes back to where he came from. But being with him made me get the same feeling I get when I'm on four paws racing through the moonlight, wild and free. That can't be wrong, can it?
I'm sorry that I haven't talked to you all in a while; it's hard to find time away when I feel safe enough.
I was in the church late the other night. I go there to think sometimes. My father used to bring me there, to look at the stained glass, to have a place to relax. A reminder, of the days when we weren't feared and hunted, the days when we didn't have to hide. My parents used to say that's what they dreamed of happening someday. But I'm getting off topic again.
So, I was sitting in the church, and there was someone else there. He's an artist, he says. He draws and writes comic books -- graphic novels, he insisted. (I didn't know there were different types, but he seemed offended that I called them comic books.) He says his next one is going to be about us -- the loup-garoux. He knew all the old stories. He didn't know I was one of them, but he'd come up to the church -- to draw the windows, I think? To get ideas, and inspiration.
And -- get this -- he didn't seem scared. Not at all. Fascinated, and intrigued, and a little bit wary -- but not scared. He was bursting with stories, telling me this and that -- and yeah, I already knew, but I played dumb. Safer that way. I tried to warn him away, because if any of the others found him there he'd be in serious danger, and I don't want that to happen to him. (To anyone.)
I saw him again today, in the square, while I was making a delivery for work. (No, I won't tell you where I work. I've told you too much already for me to feel truly safe.) He called out to me, and chased after me, and he said that all he wanted to do was talk -- but I couldn't dare. I couldn't. He called me "wolf-girl". And I know he means just because I seemed interested in wolves when I talked to him, but -- he can't possibly know how right he is. And I don't know what he'd do if he knew for sure. Turn me in? Run away? Try to hurt me?
I know Rafe and the others would try to hurt him, if they knew. And I don't want to see him get hurt. It's easiest and safest if I just stay away, because I don't want to be responsible for someone else getting hurt. Or killed. I've been responsible for enough death; I don't need more.
But oh, when I look at him, it's like the pit of my stomach goes all fluttery. He's gorgeous, but more than that, he's smart and he's funny and he seems so sweet and kind. If he's really here to find out more about the loup-garoux, if he really believes that we're not necessarily evil, maybe I could make him see, make him understand... maybe he could be the person I'm looking for. (He's certainly hot enough. Heh. Okay, no, now I'm being shallow. He is, though.)
Should I talk to him again? What would you do? I know the smart thing to do is to run far away, especially since he says he's only here for a little while longer before he goes back to where he came from. But being with him made me get the same feeling I get when I'm on four paws racing through the moonlight, wild and free. That can't be wrong, can it?
I'm sorry that I haven't talked to you all in a while; it's hard to find time away when I feel safe enough.