Hunter’s Waltz | Izzy Perez & Silas Booth
Izzy, as she informed him, had an odd sense for the term ‘normal,’ but on the other hand the side of life that Silas had previously thought unreal was now dangling itself right in his face, so there was no point in disputing it. With one last graced kiss flung upon his lips, the brunette slinked her way back to clothe herself once more. He watched in silent amusement as he pulled his own undergarments and pants back on, his show finding its curtain call when Izzy brought up the subject he most hated: Christine. Silas’s hand originally outreached to pick up his shirt, the limb seemed to gain ten pounds as it fell back down to his side and his forest-green hues bolted downward in some mad search for an explanation; some feeble place to begin. Normally shrugging these thoughts of pressured agony away whenever brought up, he wasn’t accustomed to retelling his tale. “I…” he choked out at first, his deep south tone somber. “You’re right. I was bein’ stupid.” The boy explained with a sluggish motion of his hands as he finally managed to pull on his top garment.
“I invited her over for a few drinks and a show and tell sorta thing where I’d give her a few of my most recent tunes.” Silas paused, shaking his head to himself at his own naivety. Plopping down heavily on an old oak library table, he finally let his eyes find Izzy again. Doing so, the enigmatic woman dove off into her explanation of how she grew to hate vampires so much. Not that he could blame her; he was still on neutral soil. Christine being the only leech beside himself that he had encountered, he knew not of what the others of his kind were like. There had to be good vampires out there too, right? All of them couldn’t possibly be spoiled eggs. Then Silas’s attention suddenly spiked when he heard the emerald-eyed wonder mention the simple word ‘help.’ Certainly wise and futile to ignore her genialness, the boy gave her an uncertain look. Was there some unknown cure to this curse that ran through his veins? “You can help me?” Silas inquired, the words leaving his tongue as if they were pieces of dust meant to fly around the room until some object stood in their way, ready to collect them. “How so? You know I can’t help you, so I don’t get it. I didn’t think that there was a remedy for this; for what I am.”
Izzy felt incredibly disheartened for him. Especially after gauging his reaction to her question. Poor boy. He just wanted a normal life in a town that could provide him with great opportunities. Then someone had to come and ruin it. That seemed to bethe Eastwick agenda. Make you happy and then laugh when you fall, never bothering to help you up or apologize. She knew she was dancing around a delicate subject but didn’t fear any backlash. Regardless, she could easily dismiss it if the need ever arise. However Silas was willing to open up a bit and that made her smile inwardly.
The brunette leaned forward towards him, crestfallen. “There is no known cure. You’ll be a vampire until your final death but you don’t have to act like one. That’s how I can help you. I have no personal gain from it. I just…I want to feel like I’m doing something that matters. You just so happen to matter. For starters, you could get a live-in. That would prevent you from feeding on innocent humans and/or killing them. On that note, you can resist the urge to kill someone who annoys you. Speaking from personal experience, I know that’s hard. I’ve known some good natured vampires. They were sneered at by the others, but they were happy being themselves. They didn’t let their fangs change them. Pray tell, when’s the last time you played your guitar?” The emerald-eyed beauty gently grabbed his hands and observed his calloused fingers. She gave him a small smile. There was no need to give up on his old life just yet.