audette rousseau

Home - she never thought she would miss that shabby brick building quite as much as she did now, settled on the cement ground of some forsaken alleyway with the blood of a vampire coating her porcelain flesh and his murder kneeling before her. Those tears slid down her cheeks as she so desperately attempted to regain some control of her emotions, her chest rising and falling with each audible, shaky exhale. His frigid amethyst gaze set the petite woman on edge, the anxiety that fluttered within her breast only furthered the intensity of the luminosity that so harmlessly surrounded her. She watched as he rose so abruptly with the assurance on his lips that, tonight, she would live to see the glorious rise of the sun. The calloused hand he offered her prompted a sort of weariness within the woman and yet, she was certainly not within a position to deny him. Slowly, her slender hand reached out, her touch soft and gentle and such a stark contrast from the man in front of her. His assertion that she needed to diminish that ethereal glow that so embraced her, however, was far harder to perform then it was to merely suggest.

It took considerable concentration from the French fae to diminish the brightness that swathed her lithe frame. His own darkness was all too eager to drown her in the depths of night and yet she hardly feared the darkness. Instead, she merely eyed those probing shadows with the same hint of curiosity that they so regarded her. "...it....it's you, isn't it?" She inquired softly, the girl easily piecing together those shadows that so tentatively touched her figure to the ones that had so aggressively bound her before. Her mahogany irises were steadfast upon the man's gift, the girl inattentive to the shaky breath he took or the way his own intense orchid gaze lingered upon her pale skin and ashen locks. That inquiry of where she lived, however, drew Audette's gaze upwards in an almost meek fashion. Such nervousness was entirely atypical of the young woman, performance upon the stage with a plethora of eyes upon her often gave her an easy sort of assurance within herself - usually. To admit that she hardly knew even the basics of where she lived, however, was inexperience that even Audette was shameful of. Still - if this...hunter in front of her was willing to spare her life, then perhaps he too was willing to be helpful.

The ballerina watched as his features shifted into a hard line, that guilty look upon her sweetheart lips was near undeniable. Once upon a time, she had thought getting to know the area surrounding her new home would be fun. She'd thought she'd wander the streets that encompassed her new flat until she knew them all with the same familiarity as those rolling French hillsides and whitewashed chateaus. Oh, how naive she had been! That sigh upon his lips and rustling of his dark, near ebony locks prompted the girl to quickly make some effort to explain her own unfamiliarity with both that street they stood off of and her own path home. After all, this was her first time truly venturing away from the flat she had only just occupied within the last few days. Thankfully, her efforts to depict what details she knew of her home address seemed enough to prompt some level of recognition within the man as he assured her he knew the area well. It was, admittedly, not a surprise to the woman, even though she hardly felt the need to ask why. Was it not the way of the Hunter to know the leigh of his land?

Her teeth grazed her bottom lip in some almost uncertain gesture, the young woman unaware of the fashion such a habitual action seemed to garner his attention. It was, rather, the utterance of his promise to get them both there safely that prompted an almost weak simper from the woman. After all, though her hunter companion was willing to be cooperative now, Audette had certainly not forgotten the man's once eagerness to see to her demise. Though she appeared nothing shy of utterly trusting, there was some level of cautiousness within her. Even so, her head tilted to the side ever so slightly at his baritone voice, the woman almost confused about the inquiry presented to her. Perhaps her English was not as good as she had thought? "Keep....up?" Audette inquired, eying the man almost critically. "I outran you." The young woman pointed out several moments later, her own voice, despite the facts uttered on her lips, was surprisingly gentle, as if she was merely reminding a child of an irrevocable truth. Audette, however, had not anticipated that her Dark-Hunter companion had gotten here on a vehicle. After all, it had felt as if he had chased her for an eternity! The adrenaline that had once so run rampant through her frame had, apparently, made that distance seem far greater than it truly had been.

"Oh...okay." Audette responded after a moment, with a vague hint of uncertainty. She had never actually been on a motorcycle. The ballerina had heard in detail the accidents that could be had upon such a vehicle, her own fear for her own safety often caused the girl to deviate from such 'risk-taking' behavior. She reached down for her duffle bag, the bag single-handedly holding her most important possession - those ballet shoes. The fae tossed her bag back over her shoulder only to pause at the Hunter's comment of a promise she must make. "Yes, what is it?" She inquired, her soprano voice almost light and airy - a very contradiction to the baritone tenor of the man before her. How curious was it that the fellow she had only just met now demanded a commitment of some kind from her! Briefly, she couldn't help but to wonder just what such a thing might be.