stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns

Finally, a night she could curl up on the couch wearing nothing but a simple tank and her favourite pair of worn in jeans, the most comfortable things on the fucking planet. End of story. Regardless, it was a few short moments of bliss with her pup, sketching within the empty old yellowing pages of that chocolate hued worn leather book of hers. She had refused to draw anything within that book, it had been one of the things she kept from her mother's things. Although, she was quite certain it wasn't intended for sketching but that was what she was going to use it for. Over the last few weeks she already had already drawn a few pieces within it, it felt strange at first, seeing her mother's name written in her own hand on the first page scrawled in cursive at the upper right corner. She knew that writing so well, she could tell right away the very way those letters curved and peaked, she would know it anywhere. It was also the hardest signature to forge and yet she felt nostalgia in those moments of her signing off a report card or test or whatever. She hardly wanted to reminisce in times that would have only brought her to a darker space, quickly flipping passed that page and into a fresh untouched one. She decided to draw the two faces of Ace tonight, his old peppered furred face gazing into a mirror, peering at a much younger version of himself. His form right now. Of all the shit in the world at the very least she still had her pup. Thanks to Sterling and his magical efforts. She had half a mind of pestering him tonight, but she remembered him saying something about a date night. At least one of them had a hot date. But then a silly little grin spread across her lips and uttered something she could dare let anyone else see. "You're my hot date tonight, huh Ace?" She grinned at her little fur monster. He flopped onto his back, his little pot belly sticking up as if looking for a good scratch. "Insatiable little devil.. you would do just about anything for a belly rub." She uttered fondly before giving his belly a good scratch, his little leg doing that phantom scratching thing he did even in his old age, his paw hitting the plushy pillow, scratching it with his little nails.

Maybe she would change into pj's early, but not that early just in case that stir crazy sensation settled in and she went out for a snack and drink run. Or worse, the darkness crept into her mind and she simply could not let it linger. But for now, she was blissfully content just to sink into the cushion of that couch that was probably as old as she. Damn it was comfy. She kicked up her feet, sketching the outline of her idea only getting about half way there before she heard a sharp knock on her door. A frown met her features, she wasn't expecting anyone, she checked her phone just to make sure she didn't miss a text or something. But that very sound made that little black ball of fury kick his feet out trying to get himself over from on his back to garner some traction. God her little terror was so.... Springy, she had almost forgotten this side of him. He almost knocked over her tall glass of cranberry and vodka. What the hell happened to that wise old dog that she could swear still lingered within those depths. He skittered across the worn hard wood of her floor his feet sprawling every which way that was entirely comical to watch, moving so quick that his nails could not gain any traction. But he finally made it to the door, barking like he were rabid. No matter how old he was, some things never changed.

She wondered if maybe Isolt decided to swing by. She hadn't seen her friend in far too long, she was so busy with her restaurant. It was booming but she was quite confident that anything Isolt did would be successful, she was just one of those people who could achieve any goal she set her eyes on. Maybe she should drop by later and see just what she was up to, unless she had beat her to it and was already here.

She padded with bare feet to the door, not bothering to check out the little peephole for the mere reason that Ace's bark was grating on her last nerve. "Shhhhhhh. Chill your roll pup, you're not menacing anymore." She chided her puppy who had a clear case of little man syndrome. " and your going to give me the biggest headache." She unlocked the locks of her door, she had made a habit to do up every single lock. Not that they could save her ass from a vampire but it made her feel better, an illusion of safety, especially after Ryker had broken in and smashed the place. The raven-haired girl looked up, trying to scoot her pup out of the way with a gentle nudge of her foot. But when those vibrant violet eyes look up to see the emerald eyed man standing there, surprise sets in, followed by tidal wave anger. She knew those eyes anywhere and in any form. "NOPE. Not doing this tonight.." She declared, no amusement dancing in those words, no sarcasm. She slams that thick wooden door with clear purpose as though she could shut him out, or at least tried to. Were those ropes slung over his shoulder? What the fuck was he doing here. What was he doing with those fucking ropes without even bothering to conceal them at her little townhouse. This could not be good.. The last time she saw him was at the wedding that never was and she made it very clear she hated him with a fiery passion, but of course giving very cutting glares and getting Sterling to use his powers without him knowing it was them. It was short lived before shit went down, but damn it was amusing. How she would have loved to do more, but she knew what he was capable of. The way he had almost brought her to death itself. But this whole scenario screamed Risque. Why else? The man stayed a very clear distance away and she preferred it that way. Isolt seemed to have a weak spot for the man. Nope not Harley. She knew who he was associated with and knew there wasn't a single god damn line he would not cross for that psycho cat lady. He seemed to follow every damn thing she said to the letter like a mindless little lacky. Her heart began to thud when the door didn't close shut, his foot was methodically placed, successfully blocking it from closing. This meant nothing good. She backed up while Ace, her poor sweet pup tried to go after his feet. She wanted him to get out of here, to scoop him up and take him to safety.

The raven haired woman felt trapped in some twisted paradox she couldn't quite claw out of.

Rage rippled through her, how the fuck dare he just walk in here like he owned the place. She had just about enough of assholes strutting in here and just letting themselves in so they could do whatever the fuck it is they wanted. Not cool. Supernatural men. "I take it you're not here for some company or to beg for my forgiveness huh?" She glared at him, her eyes unwavering hissing her retort, fully hoping to get her hands on her father's silver blade. It was always on her, except for when she was just relaxing. If she could, she would at least a stand a chance. At least, or so her little human mind thought. Harley acted like she was bigger and badder than her opponent, no matter who they were. She saw that car waiting outside, there was no fucking way she was going with him. All kinds of nope there. She knew he wasn't here for a chat or to talk about the weather or ask for a tattoo. That ominously parked car could not mean anything good. Not one bit.

His voice rang out and her fingers were already clenched into fists, taking as many steps as she could away from him, hoping to put a couch or a table or anything between them, even if the attempt were feeble. If he were in her shoes, err, or lack thereof. Would he simply go quietly? It just was not in the spitfire's nature to simple accept her fate. She would smash and burn it. Her fate was her own. She shook her head at his reply before replying vulgarly. Ace still was barking, smelling cat and trying to damage the intruder "Eat... how do the french put it?... dog shit." She smiles her sarcastic I don't give a fuck smile. She wasn't going to let that fear show, even if her heart raced, that worry for Ace's safety and just what that car ride meant. "Tell your psycho cat lady keeper, I decline. Not interested." She knew that it didn't matter, but she wanted at the very least get that knife. Her vibrant eyes dart from Ace to Tetradore to Ace again. Why did she have to involve herself with vampires? Why couldn't she just you know pick up a book, play tennis, or fucking learn to meditate.

Harley Westward