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My Own Form of CHAOS


Posted on August 08, 2016 by Damon Marcello
Residences


The intoxication is charming on the Were girl, her giggles contagious enough to coax a continuous smirk on my features as I watch her twirl and "dance," as she put it, around the graveyard. It's almost fitting, dancing in such a morbid place, fog surrounding us like mystery with the faded writing on the tombstombs. She seems to be amused by my bow, giggling again as she tries to curtsy and has to grab for my hand. I'm well aware that she might have fallen again if not for my own steadfast balance but I'm gentleman enough not to show it. Instead I pull her to me effortlessly and start to twirl and dance her around the graveyard. It's like a waltz playing in my head, the rhythm steady and stable as we spin amongst the tombstombs, swirling the fog around us.

Dancing this way is indeed a lost art. Don't get me wrong, I've learned to adapt so I can move in many different ways as the custom calls for it but I'd much rather a slow dance over what they call dancing now any day. She grins up at me, the alcohol still sweet on her breath as she tells me her name is Edie Graham. I memorize it as it leaves her cherry lips and give her another lopsided grin of my own. "Damon Marcello. The mystery lies in what comes behind the name. Why are you alone? Shouldn't you have a pack or mate out protecting you from monsters like myself?" I give her a playful wink. I'm not saying that I'm going to hurt her or anything because if I wanted to do that, I certainly wouldn't be dancing with her. I know the emotions between Weres and vampires are mixed. Some Weres think of us as more like demons, something abominable and evil and not to be trusted.

Sending her out for another twirl, I pull her back to me and bend her down in a graceful dip, letting her hair glide across the dew-wet grass before pulling her back up and continuing the dance. "You seem like the fun type so I'm surprised I haven't run across you before. I did just get back from a rather long absence though. You don't smell of the Nightshade pack. Do you know a jaguar named Tobias? Or a wolf called Raven? If you don't like her, I don't mind. She's rather rude when you so much as look at her. I got slapped on our first meeting for just appreciating her figure." My smirk is teasing, my eyes twinkling as I try to keep up light conversation while I continue to twirl her around the tombstones.


Damon Marcello
My Own Form of Chaos

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