Set sometime after Natalie and Adrian's first dates, typist willing. Time is flexible at the Mansion, but typist would like to assume the two got quite comfortable with being in each other's presence-- hell, they should *zips up mouth*. In any case, delivering the promised dream!

Since their schedules don't really... match (understatement of the ( Read more... )

 Hi dad. Just in case this notepad is yours.

So -- she said yes. She's staying.

I am somewhere in between two states of deliberate happiness; quite uncommon.

(Vodka. To celebrate. Though I'm looking at her sleeping, and I find myself willing for her never to leave.)

The room is indeed a bit stuffy, but not excessively so. Adrian steps in gingerly and goes straight to the French door, opening it widely.

"I'd ask you to come out on the balcony, but whereas it's not too cold for vampiric me, it might be a touch too cold for you."

He thinks for a second while he looks for his pack of cigarettes. "I know. We could ( Read more... )

This, I had to write.

(Papa, if this is your notepad, avert your gaze.)

Natalie happened.

And it's so so so much something, and I bit of something else.

Might be falling in l --

Adrian would open the door of his room for Natalie, switching on the dim lights.

"You'll have to excuse the lack of -- er, better lighting," he says, partly bitter, partly amused. "My eyes couldn't really stand more."

[Taking over from here.]

I found this old battered notepad on the bottom of my second suitcase -- the navy blue one. It looks odd. Several pages are missing; they've certainly been pulled out. I don't know to whom does it belong, though. By its look, it might have been my father's, but what is it doing in my luggage, I have no clue of. But since I'm here, at this 'Mansion ( Read more... )

Things have been happening too quickly, and Adrian was tired already without having so many new faces around, and without hearing so many new voices, and mostly, mostly, without feeling, smelling, sensing so many different natures in his vicinity.

His sleep is fitful.

He'd look for Rose in her dreams, but he knows it would be meaningless.

When he ( Read more... )

Once Iggy was gone, Adrian felt oddly empty.

Perhaps what had just happened bore a deeper meaning than that he could grasp.

Again borrowing the Scarlett O'Hara fashion, he goes I'll think of it tomorrow. Taking a shower - the first in two or three days (he lost count) - really helps. He plays with the taps, alternating scalding hot with icy ( Read more... )