It felt weird, being back here, back in this place and living life as if nothing happened. As if the world didn’t almost end, as if people didn’t just die as if the teacher who stood before me now didn’t come out of some mystical portal and somehow be reborn. I mean how does someone go about explaining that? ‘Surprise, I wasn’t dead, I was hiding.’ I asked myself how #Alaric was even able to get a job after nearly a year of being dead. I shook my head noticeably and it seemed to catch his attention. “Something you care to explain to the whole class, Liv?” he asked me just before speaking something about resurrection. “Just noting the irony.” I explained. He frown, his gaze before caught elsewhere as #Tyler Lockwood strolled in almost 45 minutes late. “Mr. Lockwood, Nice of the practice team to lend you to us.” The once dead teacher called out after the boy as he slipped into a seat next to me. He smelled of sweat and cologne which I thought should have made me cringe but for some reason it had me breathing in deep of his scent right up until he leaned towards me. I shied away, gripping the edge of my book as I leaned in the opposite direction, hoping that he hadn’t noticed how I admired his aroma “Oh I’m sorry, Princess,” he said in a snarky tone as he snatched a book from his bag. “I was just trying to see what page we were on.” I was able to stifle the amused glare as my lips fell slack in annoyance. “Shh, I’m trying to listen.” I say, lying. I wasn’t listening at all, #Alaric has been talking for almost an hour and I’m certain I haven’t heard a word he said. Instead, it was like I could /feel/ the presence of #Elena two rows back, how irritated she seemed to be and how distant she was from the conversation and now as #Tyler sat next to me it was like his power was emanating from him. Why did they even bother? Why did they continue to pretend they were something they’re not? I glanced towards him out of the corner of my eyes, watching a moment as he scribbled down some notes on what the teacher had been saying. Seemed to me he was the only one paying attention and as a hybrid, as an immortal creature, he had all the time in the world, literally, and here he was continuing on as if he weren’t some fearsome beast. It was intriguing and worrisome and for some strange reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I held the paper in my hand, azure optics glancing over the words for what felt like the hundredth time and for all I knew It probably was. I left my old life for a new beginning, in hopes that the past wouldn’t follow me. Who knew what this life meant for me, how I would get by, who I would piss off this time but I had hoped that it would at least prove to be slightly more worth all this work I put into it. I sat up, leaning away from the handle bars of my aquamarine suzuki gsxr 1100, might not have been my choice bike but it got me from point a to point b. I switched it off and put down the kick stand. I sat there another moment, my gaze caught on the flashing lights above the rickety looking door that sat between me and my future. Finally, I dismount my bike, heels clicking on the pavement as I started towards the wooden slab that seconded as a door. I crumpled the paper in my hand and after tossing it into a large barrel I gripped the knob and stepped inside. Instantly, the beat of the music gripped me and I began to sway my hips in to the tempo. Casually, I approached the bar, nodding to the man whose attention I caught almost instantly. I was used to getting cat calls, to getting my ass grabbed and for men to practically undress me with their eyes. It was nothing new for one to be caught by my appearance. Though like most woman I often found the flaws that no one else saw. “Whiskey, neat.” A smile quirked onto his lips as he started off to grab my drink I turn to the floor, noting with subtle amusement the eyes that glanced non to stealthily in my direction. The stage was empty at the moment and I supposed for now I was the best thing to look at besides the sets of old and not particularly attractive men all awaiting the show. That when my gaze caught site of another man, one whose appearance was not entirely unfortunate. He seemed to start toward me almost instantly as if I had called his name but I assumed the man behind the counter had made my presence known. I allowed a smile to curl onto lightly painted petals as I pulled a twenty from between my pert breasts and turned to set it on the counter as the bar tender came back with my drink. “Keep the change, handsome.” He nodded his thank you, gripped the bill and wandered off and before turning back to the other I sipped from my glass. I circled back on the heel of my boot and glanced into the brightest set of blues eyes I’d ever seen. “Hey there,” I speak over the thrumming of the music. I hold out a petite hand for him, “Katherine, you can call me Kat.”
My hearts so full of anguish, of fear, while maintaining the facade that I’m never afraid at all. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep up a facade like that? One that constantly puts you on edge worrying if something will see past the thin piece of cloth that hides the damaged still beating heart that struggles to pump within me? I bet you don’t even know, I bet you’re perfect just the way god sewed you up together. Keep telling yourself that. One day you’ll see, you’re just like me, just like everyone else who kills themselves every day to be something they’re not just to fit in with hypocrites, liars, and cheats. And most of you, you won’t even read this, it won’t even phase you… you won’t even care.
Us right now. @ArdentParamour