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Forever Bound to You

Chicago, Illinois

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a part of Forever Bound to You, by Vix.

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Vix holds sovereignty over Chicago, Illinois, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Chicago, Illinois is a part of Forever Bound to You.

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Garth [47] "I shall protect this house, no matter the cost."
Angiluzza Maniscalco [47] "Ho questa strana voglia di strappare solo voi a parte in questo preciso istante."

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Character Portrait: Garth Character Portrait: Angiluzza Maniscalco
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#, as written by Vix
She had convinced herself that she was becoming paranoid. For just over one week she had been hearing things. Feelings eyes upon her as though someone were following her. And here again! She cursed herself inwardly and let down her bow. It was probably just a rabbit. She knew this forest like the back of her hand and there was nobody else around for miles. Sighing, she slung her bow over her back and put her arrow back in its place. Just as she was about to bend over and start skinning the bear, everything went dark. She didn't even feel the throbbing on the back of her head.

“Mama...?” Angiluzza opened her eyes and saw standing over her was her mother. Just beyond her mother was her father. Tears welled up in her eyes and she choked back a sob. “Io sono morto!” Way to state the obvious. Her mother shook her head with an endearing smile. “Ma si deve tornare indietro. T'is non è il tuo tempo.” Angiluzza shook her head furiously. “Non capisco! Cosa vuoi dire ...?” But that was all. She didn't even get to hug her. Didn't get to speak to her father. She found herself jerked back to....Where was she going...?

Her eyes snapped open and she let out a blood curdling scream as her entire body felt as though someone had lit a fire deep within the pits of her soul. She curled up against the nearest solid thing which happened to feel like someone's legs. She had never shed a tear in pain her entire life. She refused to do so, for doing so was a loss and she didn't plan on shedding any now. Grasping onto the unknown person's legs, she dug her nails in as deep as she could, as though doing so would alleviate her pain. She screamed again and again through clenched teeth, sobbing with dry eyes. It went on and on and on and on. Until finally...It stopped.

It was as though it was never there. She felt so full of life and energy like when she was a child. She released her grip and opened her eyes wide, shaking. She was so confused with what was going on. But she felt so great! She didn't even bother to look up and see who or what she was clinging to, she just sat there in a daze, crossing her arms over her chest. “Così fame ... Ho tanta fame ... Che sta succedendo? Dove sono? Che cosa è successo ...? Ho fame. Starving. Affamato. Così energetico. Sono così confusa. Ho fame.” Her voice was soft as she stared off into the forest, resting her head on...whatever it was. She would twitch at every sound that she heard. Sounds she never heard before. She grimaced at the scents that wafted under her newly sensitive nose. She was blinking rapidly to make sense of her new sight. What was going on?

He crouched a little, enough to be able to watch her as he ran a hand down her hair and back again and again, hoping at least those movements would be a little helpful. He sincerely doubted it, however. "Shh," he murmured as sobs raked her body, the pain unbearable. He remembered it clearly himself, but then, he had had a shitty maker. Before long, the pain ended and the female went still, her arms letting go of his legs before she began trembling in the aftermath, her nerves finally getting to relax after intense activity. Something like this would have left a human unconscious with fatigue. She was a vampire now, however, and vampire could withstand a whole lot more.

He let himself move further into his crouch, leveling himself with her to some extent and he gave her a tentative smile, murmuring in Italian, "I know." Then he took her hands gently and helped her up. After all, her new senses would be confusing to her for a little while until she got the hang of everything. He spoke then, having completely switched to her mother language. "You'll get used to it, I promise."

He paused before continuing, his words calm as he didn't wish to frighten her or throw her into a panic. "You're still in the forest, where I turned you. You're... a creature of myth now. A vampyr. Do you know what that means?" He asked the question as he looked into her eyes, curious to see what she might have heard of her new species, considering the concept of vampirism wasn't yet too known to humans. "Vampyr" was the term they used to describe themselves. There was no easy way to break this to her, so he'd opted for the truth. He could easily catch her if she ran, so he wasn't all that worried.

There was a man's voice. She had heard him through her screaming. What was he saying now? She was a what?! Was he insane? She glared up at him, ready to launch into a tirade about...something. She didn't know. She was just...confused. But when she looked upon his face, she blinked slowly, her baby blues holding a new sort of glow. He was...highly attractive. But he was a man. Her temper spiked and she immediately assumed an aggressive attitude.

She felt her lips pull back over her teeth and literally heard her fangs slide out as her face contorted and she hissed at the man. “Chi sei?” She immediately demanded his identity and scrambled away from him. Her face was red as she realized that she had been clinging to him for dear life the whole time. Angiluzza didn't trust him because he was a man.

The only man that was ever kind to her was her father.

This man could be no different.

His next words surprised her. Did he just say vampire? Okay. So she was stuck in the middle of the forest with a psycho who believed himself to be a vampire and apparently she was one too. The only explanation was that she was drunk. That explained her energy - She got hyper when drunk. Yeah, that's what it was. There was no way she was an undead creature of the night.

Except, she had no alcohol.

She shook her head and instantly thought to flee. She gripped her dagger and threw it, aiming at his head. She didn't even realize how fast her reflexes were. High on adrenaline, she ran. She picked herself up and ran. She didn't even know or care where she was headed. She didn't notice at first how fast she was going. She began to slow down as it all sank in.

He was a vampire.

Really.

And...now she was too.

She was immortal! She was stronger and faster than ever. She would never go hungry again.

Hunger forgotten, she brimmed with strange joy at the thoughts. She let out a celebratory whoop and almost forgot about the handsome man she left behind and took off running again. She wasn't running from him - She was just running. She leapt over fallen trees and slid under some. She jumped onto a tree and scaled it with ease. All the way to the top. She leapt from tree top to tree top with acrobatic grace honed by nature. She could hear the river nearby as she circled back.

She made her way to it and leapt in head first. She came up, tossing her hair back with a laugh. She had never felt so alive. Which was funny to her because she was dead. She giggled at her joke as she swam to shore. She wrung her hair out, glancing at the water. What she saw made her frown. The moon lit up the sky and the water, allowing her to see her reflection. She gingerly brushed her fingertips over her scarred shoulders. Her legs. She removed her bandages and inspected her body.

She would be scarred forever...but vampires were supposed to be alluring and mystical and beautiful. At least that's how her mother always told her. She dropped to her knees and slumped her shoulders. She could never get rid of the scars. The burns. The brands. She was forever marked. As property. And as a hunter. A warrior. But she wanted to be someone else!

She sighed, the joy subsiding as she stared at her reflection, ignoring the aching hunger. She was again confused, hungry, and angry. She was exhausted and barely able to think straight.


Angel lost herself in a memory as his arms wrapped around her. A light smile etched itself across her lips as she gave a sigh. “Dove...Dove andiamo da qui?” She wasn't sure if her outburst would create an awkward tension between the two and she really didn't want it to.

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Garth didn't answer straight away, only continued the embrace that he had started originally. Truly, her question was one of great mystery: where did they go from here? The only certainty Garth had was that she wasn't talking about Montana, even though that was how he would normally interpret messages from others. Tonight had put a spin on his normal personality, causing him to question himself and his surroundings a little more astutely than he had originally taught himself to. Everything was in disarray, confused with the growing emotions that were becoming difficult to restrain. Yet with this new mindset, were they supposed to be restrained? Was true strength showing no weakness? Garth had no answers.

All he did know was that he answered his little Angel with pure honesty. " I know not. Just...." He gave a sigh, which turned into a whisper. "Just don't leave me alone." There it was, Garth's coupe de gras: he was sick of complete solitude. Sure, being alone to think and perform were what he loved best, but the kind of solitiude that he had known from before, that stretched on for decades without end, was something that he dreaded.

Now, while Garth could backpedal and say that he just wanted her to be safe, and the safest place was near him, he knew he wouldn't. Garth knew that wasn't what he meant, and he knew that Angel knew it too. All he could do at the moment was hold onto his little huntress, and hope that his gut instincts weren't beginning to fail him.

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#, as written by Vix
“We've been together for nearly a thousand years. You're all I have and you're a great man and a great Maker. Why would I leave?” She tilted her head up and gave him a weak smile. She rarely ever saw him express any emotions in any way outside of concern and anger. It was nice to see him somewhat let that barrier fall down around him. Even just by a little. Her own arms wrapped around him as she closed her eyes, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

It seemed a bit funny that it took this long for the two to sit down and have such an intimate conversation, but it was nice that it finally happened. She felt that it would release a lot of her built up tension as well as help him learn to let his guard down. She had never felt that he didn't trust her, but she did feel that his words had shown a greater amount of trust than before. And, she didn't know why. But she began to breathe. She opened her eyes, looking into his. “Promettimi solo che non mi lascerai sia.”

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Garth made no comment as she posed the simple question to his own; after hearing her, it made him feel slightly idiotic for even bothering to speak. Was that the case, that he not only showed no emotion because it was a weakness, but because he was weak at it? That he needed 'training' in the art of emoting? An absurd notion to most people, but to Garth it sounded like a repulsive form of torture. Nevertheless, her arms wrapped around his body, and her head rested on his shoulder as a mutual silence collapsed onto the situation.

Truly, Garth was waging a little war within his head. Should he pursue these emotions, find out more about them and trust his new gut feeling, or stick with his old instincts of refusing to emote? The switch in instincts had been a gradual thing, a slow process; but he had noticed it roughly one hundred and fifty years ago. Over time, he had been letting loose a little more emotional value than he previously thought was possible for a stoic, until recently when this situation seemed to be the pinnacle of his emotions. So should he pursue it? A hard question; choosing yes would open the doors to an uncertain, confusing world that he is sure to get lost in, yet might bring happiness to his Vani. Going against his emotions and sticking to his hard exterior would ensure sanity and clarity, yet after yesterday he was certain that Angel would be less happy.

His priority was her, so when she spoke in Italian to him, telling him never to leave, he responded. "I swore that I never would." A pause, and then he switched tongues. "Se ci fosse un modo per dimostrare a voi le mie intenzioni, lo farei."

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#, as written by Vix
“Non c'è bisogno di dimostrare niente a me, Maker. Io resto profondamente ogni all'alba sapendo che vi sarà sempre presente quando mi sveglio.”

She felt strange that he would say such a thing. Did he truly feel that he needed to prove himself to her? So, the shoe was on the other foot now. It was a nice little twist. For centuries Angiluzza had done all the she could to prove herself worth his time and presence even though he was constantly reassuring her that she didn't need to. The fact that he now made known that he would prove his intentions if he could made her wonder though, just what intentions did he mean? Of staying at her side or of approaching his feelings towards her?

She tried not to give it too much thought as she rose up and pulled the blankets with her to wrap about the scars of her body. “I hope...this doesn't...damage what we have.”

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Garth said nothing as she assured him he had to prove nothing, yet the situation seemed vaguely familiar. It didn't take long for Garth to make the connection to between their conversation, and many from times gone by: only this time, instead of Garth having to tell Angel that she had no reason to prove her worth to him, it was he who was feeling the need to prove his worth. Why was that, really? Garth had given his word to her that he would always look after her for as long as she needed him, and she rarely doubted him: so why, of all times, did he suddenly doubt her words? Was it because of these new emotional uncertainties? Perhaps. There was little Garth seemed to understand in this new way of thinking.

"Never." Garth said simply without any real hesitation or thought. He refused to let anything allow him to lose the relationship that he already had with his little huntress, regardless of where this new way of thinking was taking him. Whatever happened to Garth was irrelevant: whatever happened to Vani was his world. Garth rose up after speaking, staring her straight in the eyes as he did. Instincts caused him to brush away those few pesky strands of hair that had started to lower onto her forhead, before solidifying his case. "Nothing will ever damage this. Ever."

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#, as written by Vix
The Italian huntress gave a smile as he ensured that nothing was damaged. She honestly thought she would be lost without him. Sure, she had the skills to survive out in the world on her own; But she didn't have the emotional stability to be alone, much less without her Maker. Lord knows that she had tried once when she was young. Just as an experiment. But, she found herself drawn back to his side. Since the day that she accepted him as her Maker, she could hardly imagine life without him. Hell, were it not for him not giving up on her, she might still be a savage. A Fallen savage Vampire fucking and killing savage that destroyed everyone and everything in her way.

Not exactly a healthy lifestyle.

Just at that moment she realized that never once had they been so close while she was conscious. She could feel their noses brush against one another as she tilted her head upwards only just by a little. It was tempting. Was he purposely tempting her? She found herself receiving mixed signals and knew that if her heart could still beat that it would be pounding in her chest as though trying to escape. Without hesitation, she closed in the small gap between them. Her body pressed against his kept the sheet pinned to her, her hands now freely reaching up and grasping the back of his head as she firmly pressed her lips against his. It was...nice. Great! She felt her fangs reflexively slide out as there was an arousal building up. She bit down on his lip gently and took only the smallest drop of his blood before stepping away.

“We should go now. We need food and so do they.”

She smiled with a rather dazed look before snapping back to her normal self, a soft smirk donning her lips. She flitted around the room, dressing herself and rounding up her pets. “I'll meet you in the car after you check out.” With her various pets, she was gone. Again, people stared as she walked through the lobby and even out towards the parking lot in the back. It was quite a walk, as she couldn't flit around cameras, but she made it to the second floor of the parking lot and piled her pets into the truck. They should be able to stop somewhere and get some meat for her pets; Normally she would kidnap and drain a criminal before letting them devour the person's flesh. But there was no time for that now.

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Garth had no words for what events transpired, only details of the events. First, her smile after he gave his huntress reassurance. Next came the contact of her nose against his, an odd feeling rushing over his body as he stared into her eyes. Garth was fairly certain that the only times he had been this close to her was when she was either asleep or unconscious. So what was he feeling about their closeness? Oddly enough, Garth hadn't an answer that was tangible - well, he didn't until a hand grabbed the back of his head, and pushed it towards hers. In that moment, all he felt were Angel's lips on his, and then a slight bit of pain as her fangs bit down on his lip to draw blood.

She backed off, spoke of food and getting in the truck, and then left. Garth, however, was in a dazed state. He hadn't moved from his spot where her body pressed against his to draw him in, and in that moment of reminiscence his fangs slowly slid out of his gums. Garth wasn't sure what emotion would have caused them to leave their nest; perhaps it was the arousal he had felt? His hand went up to his lip to remove the blood that was still there from their.. what? That was a kiss, wasn't it? Garth stared at the drop of blood in longing, before drawing it to his mouth and licking his own blood off of his finger. Perhaps his arousal was just at the sight of vampire blood - after all, he did have that secret vampire blood fetish/obsession of his, even though Garth hated referring to it as such a crude word. A fascination was probably a better choice.

Nevertheless, Garth finally decided to move from his spot, his fangs retreating back into their homes as he faced the door. Whatever he was feeling, it certainly wasn't going to go away - and he didn't want it to. Thing was, Garth was slightly confused, mostly because of an incident that occurred when he first changed her. He had found himself highly attracted to her from the start, and yet that knife to the face had always been looming the background of his mind of her first rejection of him. Sure, it may not have been the rejection of affection, but Garth took it both ways - it was a knife in the face after all.

So that kiss must mean that she wanted more than what they had, right? That would mean that Garth would have to retract his previous mentality against emotions, or else this would go nowhere fast. Shaking his head, Garth flitted through the room to gather anything that they had brought in, as well as cleaning as he went. Sure, he was paying them to clean the room, but he was already there, so he might as well. Besides, money really wasn't a problem of his: how could it be, when you live for 1600 years? Once that was finished, he made his way up to the roof via the stairs to think and perform the only thing that he was pretty sure Angel hated: Garth grabbed a cigarette and lit it. He rarely smoked anymore - he was worse back in his younger years until Angel forced him to basically drop the habit. Yet there were days when he wanted to clear his head that he would have one. It wasn't like it could hurt him in any way; you know, without functional lungs and all.

He quickly finished it before flitting around on the roof to eliminate most of the smell from his clothing. It didn't work all that well, but then again the stench didn't stick to his clothing that much anyway - that had been his first cigarette in roughly 6 months. Garth made his way to the checkout, getting an odd stare by the one receptionist as he hadn't removed all of the blood from his lip. Waving her off, he finished checkout and made it to the truck to see Angel finishing up with her pets. Garth threw his jacket into the back and opened the driver door to hop in. He never said a word, but when his little huntress wasn't looking a small smile crept onto his lips - where this road took them, he didn't know. But he was sure to find out.

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#, as written by Vix
“We should probably stop by a small market and get something for them to eat. I could use some strawberries myself.” Angel still hadn't eaten in almost two days and found herself craving some sort of sustenance.” She tucked a few strands behind her ear as she watched him pull out and head away from their hotel. The drive was a quiet one as she kept her eyes forward, occasionally looking sideways to asses his own emotions. She would have been worried that the silence meant she had done something wrong, but he could not hide the smile that would ever so often creep slowly upon his lips. This in itself caused her to continue smirking lightly as she finally simply glanced outside the window.

They eventually pulled into a 24/7 minimart and she promised that she would be back shortly. It didn't take her long to buy several packs of steak as well as fruit and eventually checking out. Perhaps two minutes at the most. She slid into the passenger seat and tore open the steaks before tossing them into the backseats. Ready to go, she nibbled on the strawberries before glancing over to her Maker. “Where do we go now?” Her question had two meanings as she referred to his desire to take their relationship in a different direction as well as where he wished to go. Perhaps he wanted to go to his old home or somewhere more exotic. She cared not, so long as they were together. It felt as though after so many centuries she was just getting to know him all over again.

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Garth leaned back in the driver's seat as Angel was in the minimart. The whole two minutes went by in silence, as he stared up at the roof of the truck with the constant noise of the animals behind him. At a moment like this, thoughts eluded him, and his head was filled with the bliss of simplicity and solitude. Nothing to think about, nothing to feel about, everything was quiet and serene. Two minutes later, Angel came back, threw open the steaks and let the madness in the backseat ensue. A slight sigh emitted from his lips: truly as he witnessed, Garth cared not for Angel's animal collection. Many of them were flesh eating, rabid annoyances to him, yet he knew she loved them so Garth tolerated them.

Her question caught him off guard slightly, and he gave the answer he expected himself to give. "Montana, unless the route has changed." His face was perplexed for a bit after he spoke, as if he was stating the obvious yet missing something. After finally tuning back in with the part of his brain he rarely enjoyed using - the 'read between the lines' part - Garth gave another sigh of understanding. "I haven't a clue. For now, let us focus on the destination, unless that has changed as well?" Garth was not insinuating anything at all, a look of genuine curiousity on his face. Where were they headed, now that she brought that up? On route to Montana, or a flight to somewhere in Europe? Were they going back to his villa, to which he hadn't visited in a few years now, or some foreign island? Garth rarely made the decisions, he ran with them.

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#, as written by Vix
///Time Skip...Five Days Later///


They hadn't talked about it much.

That kiss.

No, she simply requested that they visit his old home and he was more than willing to oblige. They had been relatively silent as they drove to Montana and stayed long enough for her to re-up her security and leave some of her pets behind as well as unpack her things and repack only what she needed. They didn't stay longer than the weekend before driving out to New York City and finally catching a cruise ship bound for France. They would arrive in three days time, all of which she planned to spend curled up in a large bed, quite comfortably sleeping like a corpse.

Maybe she would get up and explore - They hadn't gotten the Royal Loft Suite for nothing, after all. It was very luxurious and was just like a large apartment. What was she doing right now? Sporting her new black bikini and standing like a statue on the balcony of their suite, staring out into the moonlit ocean.

Angiluzza was thinking. About everything yet nothing. From reminiscing about her past to ruminating about her future, she couldn't stop thinking. The silence that had formed between she and her Maker since that kiss was unnerving her. Had she pushed him away? Or was he just thinking on what he should do next? Was he going to try and let her down easy? Or was he trying to figure out how to ease his way into such a sudden relationship?

It had been a while since he had been in one, right? She couldn't recall him ever seeing anyone intimately while she was around. Sure, she had seen women try only to be brushed off or ignored.

A sigh escaped her as she closed her eyes and simply dived deep into her own mind, shutting out life around her.

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Five days. That was how long ago it was since Angel's lips touched his, the last time they shared a conversation longer than a few minutes. Since then, Garth had simply drove in silence when need be, and assisted Angel in her packing and unpacking wherever he could. Unlike her, Garth had little to nothing on him besides the bare essentials: you know, his collection of weaponry was heading back home, but other than that there was nothing to speak of. Quite literally, Garth was sailing with only the shirt on his back, and the pants on his legs. Everything else was useless to him, since he was going to his actual home.

Garth shook himself out of his stupor, returning to the reality in which he was laying on a king sized bed alone, staring at the ceiling. How long had he been dazing? Correction: since when did Garth ever really daze off for extended periods to time? He would only stare off into nothingness when he was distressed or confused, which used to be once or twice every century. So what was he doing now, staring at the dull ceiling of the exotic suite? Garth didn't know, but his eyes quickly darted around to make sure nothing was missing. It was then that his eyes finally made their way over to the balcony not too far off to see his little huntress completely still in a black bikini. Garth didn't remember that being in her wardrobe from previous years, but Garth wasn't complaining. She looked stunning standing there motionless, seemingly pondering the world's problems all at once.

Again, Garth found himself confused. He hadn't thought of Angel in such a way for a long time: before, his view towards her was more like a doting parent or older brother, always making sure that she was happy and alive. Yet because of five days ago, Garth wasn't sure where he stood. Was that kiss supposed to signify that Angel wanted more from him in terms of an intimate relationship? Or was he just getting confused?

Garth narrowed his eyes as he pulled himself off of the bed. He was starting to loath the confusion that was going on in his head, the indecision and pensive thoughts that were overriding his natural state. Garth liked strength, decisiveness and action: yet he was none of those things right now. He hated how he was even nervous to talk to Angel right now: why in the hell was he nervous? Just what was going on between them now? Garth didn't know, but he wanted a grasp on the situation. He wanted what he had before, where he could make decisions without batting an eye, to hold Angel without a feeling moving through his body that he couldn't understand, to protect her from everything that could harm her.

Garth rose to a stand, taking into account that he was wearing pants and his leather jacket; nothing else. See, he wasn't one to dress for the weather, as he preferred one outfit and kept it simple. Yet when he looked up to see her standing there in her exotic beauty, those damned indecisive thoughts came back. With a silent growl, Garth threw them out of his head forcefully, aggravated that such trivial thoughts could cause an Elder Vampire such as himself into second guessing himself and causing the rifts between those he cared for.

On the padding of his feet, he softly made his way over to Vani and stood directly beside her, staring out into the sea. For a long while, Garth said nothing, unsure of what really to say to start up such a conversation, until he realized he was even sick and tired of trying to make normal conversations. He just wanted answers, so he went for them. "I wish to destroy the silence between us. Yet I'm unfamiliar with such emotional contexts. Care to assist?" Garth said while simply staring out, his tone slightly wistful, but mostly monotonous. He knew that Angel would instantly recognize his normal tone returning, the bluntness being apparent. "I don't completely understand what I'm feeling - only that it isn't normal. Indecision, hesitation, confusion, anxiety, wistfulness; what could they mean?" He wasn't sure if Angel was prepared for such an onslaught of bluntness, but again, Garth was really in the mood for setting himself straight again.

All he wanted was to feel secure again - if that meant discovering that intimacy still existed within him, he would.

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#, as written by Vix
Her blue eyes opened slowly, shining in the light of the full moon as she gave a fanged smile. She had been waiting for this. For her Maker to approach her after simmering on his thoughts for a while, no doubt questioning the kiss. She had to admit that this game called love had suddenly became quite exhilarating, causing her to rather enjoy what followed. While the silence was deafening, it did give both of them time to think about many things.

The young Vampire turned to face Garth, tilting her head to the side some. “It sounds as though you feel how I had felt for a long time. Makes your stomach feel alive with butterflies, doesn't it?” She giggled lightly and took a step forward, placing her hands upon either side of his face. “It could be my small ego growing larger or maybe it's just me dreaming, but I'd say that you're in love.” Her eyes gazed deeply into his as she searched for his reaction, her thumbs gently caressing his cheeks.

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It was safe to say that Garth was puzzled at the least. His Vani had felt this way for a long time? How long was a long time? Why would his stomach feel alive with butterflies? Was that what it was supposed to feel like? Perhaps she worded it wrong, or- Garth instantly stopped that train of thought in annoyance, before a giggle interrupted his own stopping of thought before hands grasped both sides of his face, and his little huntress said a sentence that stopped all functions of his body in their tracks.

“It could be my small ego growing larger or maybe it's just me dreaming, but I'd say that you're in love.”

Garth at first wanted to say something, maybe make a rebuttal or stop things before they went anywhere he didn't understand, and nearly got them away. While her eyes pierced through his head, Garth's own clouded somewhat in the confusion. "I..." Garth was at a loss for words, and this time he was quite ungrateful for his nontalkative attitude. If only he knew how to speak in such a cornered spot without either raising his own barriers in defense or attacking aggressively. Instead, he stared off into the distance behind her, not quite sure how to comprehend her intuition. Was that what he was feeling? The fleeting, annoying caress of the sickening smooth emotion known as love?

Better yet, when was the last time he could honestly say that he knew what love even was? Sure, there was his protective care for Angl, her brother and his leaders for all those years, which was a kind of love. So what was this kind of love? Was it the kind that had him, on cold, silent nights, thinking back to his time with Adosinda? Or the hurtful rejection he felt towards Aphrodite during his years of conflict and depression? However, throughout all of these questions that raced through Garth's head, one stuck out the most: If I do not know what the nature of love is, how can I feel it? If he thought back, there was a time when he was highly attracted to Angel. When he first saw her, there was an instant connection that he felt, an intrigue that drew him in. Over the times that he watched her, he was bewitched by the beauty that such a savage could possess. Of course, this was all before he decided to turn her, and she threw a knife in his head. Now that Garth revisited that night, a new question arose: what were his actual motives to turning her? As Garth thought back, only two stuck out. The first, wanting to give the creature a new life. The second a little more foggy, but Garth remembers it: to keep such a creature to himself.

Somewhat shocked by the fact that he was that selfish, Garth returned to reality to softly speak. "It has been too long since I've dwelt on the topic of love. How do I know that this indecision isn't clouding my judgement?" He turned back to her, and made his point. "After all, I am still reminded of the knife that was in my head after I turned you." It wasn't that Garth was angry or resenting her rejection, more confused that she would feel a love towards him when she firstly rejected him.

Yeah, Garth didn't really understand how emotions changed at all.

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Angel's coy smile turned into a hurt frown as she turned to face her Maker once more. Was that the reason he had never flirted with her? Was that the reason that he never before noticed her feelings for him? She stepped forward and again placed her hand upon his cheek, her bottom lip quivering as she pouted before she spoke softly. “I can't believe that still bothers you...Garth. I mean, how could ever think I still distrust you? You came to me not even half a year after I had been discarded like trash after nearly twelve years of suffering at the hands of men, treated like an animal. How did you think I was going to react when I woke from the worst pain I had ever felt only to see a strange man holding me?”

She stepped back from him, a bit offended, if not insulted. Maybe a bit confused. “Did you expect I would greet you with a thank you and a hug? Did I not later put my trust in you? Have I not for nearly a thousand years pledged my entire life to staying at your side? Have I not done all that you've ever asked and devoted all of my heart and soul to pleasing you and making you proud?” Her voice was taking on a dangerous tone, getting low and oddly calm as her eyes grew as cold as steel, glazing over as though she were about to cry. But her jaw tightened and she lifted her chin, placing one hand on her hip with flaring nostrils.

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Garth opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing as he closed it. Angel's direct verbal attack on him was odd and slightly frightening to say the least. Her calm yet dark tone, her strong jaw. Truly, there was no way that Garth could give an answer without either angering her further or letting her down. He never imagined that Angel would be angry at him in such a way, but the thought of her becoming angry enough to leave was enough for his mind to start thinking of an answer. His neck cocked slightly as his eyes drifted back to the water, averting his gaze from hers. He thought it might help him think of an answer if he didn't see those eyes, but it was use: Garth kept seeing them. The scary part was that they reminded him of his own eyes, the steely coldness mixed with another emotion he couldn't place.

So how to answer? Garth couldn't think of one as he gripped the balcony in pensive thought. It made things all the more difficult that she had brought up points that he rarely noticed: had she pledged herself to be with him over these 800 years? Maybe it was what humans called 'inferred', a term he rarely understood. After a few moments of silence, his low, monotonous voice began to speak. "My intent was not to insult, and I apologize if that was how it sounded." Garth continued to stare outwards, the irony of their roles switching somewhat sinking in. "However, for me to realize all of your questions without words said is like asking a fish to walk. It isn't your fault that I can only understand two forms of body language, nor is it my right to impose that you should have realized it. But the fact remains...." Garth went quiet again, staring out to the sea, before a sad tone was added.

"I know nothing about you, or about love."

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The Italian female's face turned red as she fumbled with her speech. This was wrong! This was all wrong! Maybe she shouldn't have said anything at all. She had imagined things would have gone smoother. What was she so worked up for? She could understand if he didn't love her the way she loved him. She would've been able to get over that, though she would still love him. What disturbed her so deeply was that he had believed for all these years that she harbored some discontent for him for what had happened ages ago. She couldn't believe that it came as a surprise to him that she wasn't exactly well receiving his actions at the time. She pinched the bridge of her nose and gave a deep sigh, breathing heavily and unnecessarily a few times as she tried to collect her thoughts. It was then that his words cut deeper than any holy water soaked silver knife ever could. “I know nothing about you or love...” “You know what, just forget it. Forget the word love ever came out of my mouth. Forget that I ever kissed you. Forget everything! Apparently I mean jack shit to you!” She wanted to hit him. She wanted so badly to cock her arm back and slam her fist into his face but she knew it wouldn't even faze him.

It was then that she did something that she hadn't done in about 800 years.

She cried.

Rivulets of blood welled up in her eyes and began to stream down her face, staining her soft olive complexion with crimson streaks as she brushed past him rudely. She wanted to scream that she hated them never wanted to see him again. That would be a lie and despite the pain that she felt, she couldn't cause that kind of pain for him. Why did she care so much? Why was she crying? He broke his promise, that's why. He swore to never let another man hurt her. Yet his words more damage to her than any of the abuse she suffered before. He hurt her heart and soul. Ripped it right out of her body and stomped on it without a second thought. She made no sound as she cried, grabbing a robe and slipping it on before snatching up some tissue, dabbing at her eyes before tossing it on the dresser and leaving the room. She slammed the door behind her, cracking parts of the wall and knocking down a few things from their perch as she stormed off. She wasn't sure where to go. She just didn't want to be near him right now. She ended up on the sky deck alone until a young man approached her, having heard the door slam and having seen her around before. He attempted to comfort her, placing a hand on her back.

She didn't want to comfort; she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him against her body, quickly moving her hands to his neck snapping it. Before anyone would come out, she sank her fangs into his neck and fed greedily and angrily from his limp body, shoving it overboard when she was done.

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Garth remained speechless and silent as the ordeal played out in front of him. First was Angel crying - which he had never seen her do, which was quite a shock to him - and then her accusation that she meant 'jack shit' to him. However, if Garth knew anything about exotic creatures, it was that staying silent near them when angry was the best policy. Next came her exit, and the slamming of the door and the slight wince on his part. Not at the scenario, but at the room now being cracked.

Then came the wince of the situation. It came gradually, as the scene replayed in his mind over and over. His facial expression changed as his head turned towards the ocean once more, becoming a grimace as the whole impact of what went on just then hit him. It all made no sense to him, and yet was clear as day: Angel hated him, and believed he meant nothing to her. Was that really what he had said? Garth's grip on the railing tightened as he replayed his own words in his head. They sounded right for the time, and he thought they would have gotten the message across to her that he wasn't trying to insult her, that he was sorry, and that he hadn't read her body language from these past 800 years right at all - he wasn't one to read into other people's actions, unless they wanted to fight him.

Forget the word love ever came out of my mouth. Forget that I ever kissed you. Forget everything! How could he? Garth's everlasting memory was what got him stuck in this mess in the first place. If he had completely forgotten about her stabbing him in the head. If he only had ignored the previous distrust. If only he knew how to speak in a fashion that could convey himself. If only he could read body languages. If only -

Enough! Garth roared through his own head, a snarl on his lips. All of this thought on alternate possibilities was starting to drive him insane with annoyance and anger. Garth was only able to keep the stoic attitude and mentality because of the personality he instilled upon himself to disconnect from the world to become a better protector and feel nothing. Yet his former self: prideful, determined, blunt and forceful still lingered in the background, itching to get out and tell the world what he really thought. This gave Garth is awkward personality switches during combat: by his stance alone could one tell if the stoic barrier had been breached.

What set Garth off was watching as a man was beginning to fall off the boat. He had really no idea why a human would feel the need to go for a dip like that, but he knew it would be fatal. In a flash, his body blurred towards the man falling with a clear purpose: saving that man from the sea. If that man died, the boat might be forced to stop, and he really didn't need that - being in an area where only he would be able to escape easily would make things complicated. So after rushing over guardrails, walls and avoiding people, Garth narrowly grabbed the man, only to realize his own mistake: the man was already dead. The neck in such an awkward location proved it. What made it worse? The bite marks.

In an instant, Garth reacted. Dead bodies on board were worse than on water, and so far no alarms had been sounded. Reacting quickly, he shoved the corpse around to make it look like just dead weight clothing, and then placed his shot to avoid the most people, whipping it overboard. It was then that Garth looked up towards where the balcony that the body had fallen from, and Angel was right there. He didn't know what she was thinking, being so rash, but instead of being stoic and passive, Garth's face read a fiery annoyance, coupled with a cold stare.

Just as fast as Garth had moved to get that corpse man, Garth flitted his way up the balcony. In slow motion, it would have looked like some ultimate parkour: his graceful movements, coupled with the odd time where he dug his fingers into the metal walls to get a better grip, were quite fascinating. However, Garth finally grabbed the railing to the sky deck, and as he dragged himself up, a cold tone accompanied it - gone was the monotone speech, replaced with raw emotions that Garth refused to even bother understand. "If you think that causing an international incident in such an isolated area will solve anything..." He threw himself onto the sky deck with cold eyes and a perplexing look of annoyance, confusion and raw emotion.

"then you are sorely mistaken." In the past, Garth was one to see Angel's outburst as a rejection, and would usually leave quietly and sadly. Yet, here he was, with no guilt, shame or rejection. Just Garth, mildly annoyed and somehow radiating emotion.

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“Sharks would have gotten him; I left enough blood in him to attract them. Probably not have eaten all of him, but it's highly unlikely that he would have much flesh left. His corpse would have sunk to the ocean depths. What do you care?” She turned her head away from him and used her index finger to wipe away the stray blood tears starting to trickle down her face. She didn't want to love him anymore. She didn't want to make him proud. She didn't want this pain in her chest. But it was all her fault - Things were better when she never said anything. And now, with this pain, she only wanted him to hold her and stroke her hair like he used to while she loved him in utter silence. “Just...just go away.”

He didn't budge, causing her to whirl around, facing him with a blood stained face. “Basta lasciare. Oppure ti senti che non avete ottenuto il vostro messaggio? Si sente che dovrei soffrire di più? Ho capito. Tu non mi conosci. Tu non mi ami. Sono sempre stato solo qui e quindi non c'era bisogno di stare da solo. Bene. messaggio ricevuto.” She didn't blame him. She couldn't blame him. She knew from day one of her rebirth that he was a stoic man. She was foolish to think that he would somehow begin to shift and show emotion just because she kissed him and told him of her love for him. Yes. Underneath everything...She was still just a fool.

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Garth's eyes narrowed, annoyance now having to share the stage with the slight pang of regret and confusion. Had he really said that? That she was only around to make sure he wasn't alone? He had thought that his words were comforting and hopefully helpful - apparently they were the exact opposite of what he had intended. Typical Garth to assume that his speech would go the exact way he had planned. A ragged sigh escaped his lips as he looked toward the ground in complete aggravation: why did he even bother communicating? He couldn't do it; that much was obvious. He was always better at just acting first and explaining himself afterwards.

Thing was, Garth didn't feel like just acting: he needed to get a few things straight with his little huntress before he did anything rash. Again, personality suppression did that sort of thing.

"If that is what got across to you... Sai cosa, fanculo la lingua inglese." He bit out before looking back up at her with hard eyes. Within those eyes was a swirling emotional value of sheer determination, mixed in with confusion, anger, and concern. The cursing felt odd on his lips, as before he rarely needed to or bothered; yet right now, he didn't seem to care. " Se tu fossi solo in giro per la mia azienda, allora perché mi insegni qualcosa? Perché io mi preoccuperei per consolarti, o sperimentare il mondo con te? Quando ho detto che non sapevo nulla di te, ti sei già dimenticato che la scorsa settimana è stato faticoso e confuso? O hai già dimenticato che di solito ho un momento così difficile spiegare le cose?" With every sentence, Garth took a step towards Vani; it was odd, seeing Garth on the offensive when he would normally back down after the first rejection and leave. Then again, Garth wasn't feeling like Garth right now: he was feeling like Hathus.

"Vuoi sapere perché sono così perso in questo momento? Perché non ho ancora lasciato in rifiuto e negazione?" By now he was right in front of her, merely inches from her body, his head looking down on her with fiercely determined eyes. He would straighten out his mind no matter what, so help him. So to bring this entire attack from Garth to a close, what did he have in mind? Absolutely nothing. His mind was blank after such an aggravated grinding from his part. He really didn't know what to say anymore, which lead him to act instead. His hand brought his right hand to her chin to tilt it up, which met his own mouth coming down to peck a little bit on her lips with his own. To be honest, Garth hadn't a clue what he was doing, only that he had run out of things to say. Well, almost - after the peck on her lips, he pulled back and stared her straight in the eyes with own steely ones.

"Perché a differenza di tutto il resto, io non ti lascio."

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That kiss. That one kiss brought more crimson tears to her eyes as she immediately felt herself overwhelmed with too many emotions to name. Her petite frame fell into his as her arms wrapped about his body and she sobbed.

“Garth...Ti amo così tanto che fa male. Ho amato e ti adorato da lontano per secoli e ho pensato...ho solo pensato che ora che siamo finalmente soli, potrei dirvi. Che...potremmo essere qualcosa...di più. So quanto sia difficile per voi per mostrare emozione. Tu sei un guerriero. Sono stato stupido ed egoista a primavera questo su di te come ho fatto io. Non ho mai voluto farti del male o male quello che c'è tra noi.” She apologized profusely, sniffling before stepping away from him. “I got blood all over you.” She sighed and looked up at him, her lip trembling. “Si prega di non lasciarmi...Non mi odiare.”

She didn't like the way she felt inside. She felt as though she were being drenched in holy water, though she knew she wasn't. Her stomach was in knots as she begged him not to abandon her. She first felt as though she had been pushing him away but that kiss had said otherwise. His words moved her unlike anything else and made the blood rush to her cheeks. She had gotten so ahead of herself that she forgot to take baby steps with him. All she needed was a second chance.

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Garth held her as she sobbed, slightly confused as what he was exactly supposed to do, but knowing that comforting her right now was all he needed to know how to do. It was when she started apologizing for getting blood on him - which reminded him that he wasn't wearing a shirt, only his jacket - that Garth became concerned as Angel stepped away. Why would she step away after apologizing profusely? Hell, why was she apologizing to him? There was no reason for her guilt or apologize - everything was just clicking for Garth right now, and he didn't want that to stop - he wanted whatever was going on to keep plowing forward until he found out the true nature of these feelings.

But that look that she gave him, the guilt that seemed to just flow from her, the little biting of the lip, the pleading look.. Garth couldn't take that in either of his personalities. As soon as she was done speaking, Garth bridged the gap between them in a single stride, not caring about the blood that had smeared itself on his torso from her crying, and with a fluid motion wrapped his arms around her in an embrace. No words had left his mouth yet as he lowered his head to hers, keeping eye contact the entire time until his forehead lightly touched hers. He never broke eye contact while he uttered a vow he never thought he would have to repeat to her.

"Io, Hathus, giuro che non ti lascerò mai il tuo fianco. Fino a quando la mia morte, io resterò il vostro protettore e .." He paused, unsure if he would take the leap into the chasm of uncertainty or not. Angel had already made her love as clear as day to him now, with no waver and no hesitation. The real question was now that he knew how she truly felt, how did he? A brief moment of silence elapsed until Garth came to his conclusion: everything was clear now, and his answer was certain. So he whispered softly to her. "e il tuo amante."

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She melted at his words, feeling the ache in her body leave and beoome replaced by a feeling of warmth. Her hands rose up gingerly and she placed them gently on either side of his face, not meeting his gaze for a few moments. “Hathus...”, she whispered softly, tearing up again as she met his gaze. “I'm...I'm scared too. I don't know anything. About being in a relationship. Which is somewhat pathetic considering how old I am and all of the romance movies I've watch and my unhealthy obsession with Shakespeare.” She gave a weak laugh, letting her hands slide down to his neck, unable to release him from her grasp. She was half afraid that this was a dream and she was going to wake up any moment to find that her Maker was still pissed at her. “But...we can figure this out. Together: Baby steps, right?” She gave a red and fanged smile, the corners of her lips wavering a bit as she tilted her head to the side some, gently brushing her lips against his. She moved closer to him, her kisses soft, loving, and gentle. She pulled back some, observing his face under the moonlight, stroking his chilled flesh gently with the tips of her fingers. “I won't ever leave you. Even if this doesn't work. I will always stand by you.” She spoke the truth; She knew nothing about being in a relationship. She adored romance movies and Shakespeare's tragic romances but had never been in a relationship herself All of the men that spent the night with her simply got to cop a feel before she knocked them out, bit them, and left their home as though she had never even been there. Who better to explore romance with than the one man she always knew she could count on? The one that had always been there for her. Who had taken care of her for centuries. Who was the only one that could comfort her. The only man she trusted anymore and the only person she cared about. She still felt guilty for thrusting so much on him at once, knowing fully well that he wasn't an emotional man. She also felt like a fool that she would even for a moment believe that he would leave her after one fight. Their first fight, really. Angel had never fought with him before. Of course, they had their differences here and there but that was to be expected. She couldn't recall a single actual fight with him. She followed him where he went and carried out whatever orders he gave. When he asked her to call the shots, she always considered how it would affect him and everything went rather smoothly. The Italian brought her gaze to his once more before pressing her lips against his again. “The body is likely long gone now. We should get back to the room before someone sees us out here.” Her voice returned to its usual softness, a new brightness to her eyes, and a bashful nature to her smile a more innocent look to her usual mysteriousness. And then she was gone. Nothing more than a blur, she flitted back to the cabin where she traded her two-piece for a large shirt and her ponytail was released as she jumped into the bed and burrowed under the silky duvets with a happy laugh.

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Garth's face remained passive as she touched his cheeks with her softened hands, a feeling embedding itself somewhere in his mind that he did not fully understand. It was soft like Angel's facial features, yet warm unlike the coldness of her hands. Her hands moved down to his neck, still speaking, and Garth's face nor eyes wavered from hers as she tilted her head and moved it forward, the softest of touches on the lips. See, to Garth, the word softest did not do the kisses justice as she moved closer to him. They were like a warm, refreshing rain after a drought on his mouth, the wind just passing by in the breeze. She moved back, and a slight silence was shared between the two of them before she brought back up the dead man in the surf before suddenly flitting away. She left Garth with almost a glassy look in his eyes, confused as to whether or not he was in a trance like state, or still stunned. Either way, it was all because of her soft lips.

It took Garth a few seconds, but he finally recollected himself and returned to the man that he had been for years: Garth, the emotionless vampire, the protector. He grabbed a hold of the railing, staring out to the dark sky in confusion. Had he really just done that - confessed to her, and said that he would become her lover if that was what she wanted? He was tempted to go and apologize for his brash behaviour, wanting to state that he shouldn't have been so mad at her or forceful, that he should have taken it slower. Yet if he had, would that entire scene had happened? His mind was a swirl of emotions, ones that he had originally believed repressed. It took another moment for him to finally refocus his thoughts, and come to one conclusion: Garth wanted his little huntress. To protect her, to love her, it didn't matter; he just wanted the girl with the caressing lips, the soft hands, the flowing hair. He took one last look at the stars, slowly connecting his ideas together and composing himself once again. Perhaps he didn't have to be just Garth - maybe Hathus had some right ideas too.

With that, Garth flitted back to the cabin, only to stop at the door to notice the cracks that were the remainders of their fight. Regret swallowed him as he realized that he had failed her, that he should apologize. Garth knocked on the door first - as was customary for him -before opening the door to see... nobody. Garth swore that this would be where she would head, especially after saying that they should both head back. Besides, he had only left less than a minute after she had, so where could she be?

It wasn't until Garth noticed the slight bulge in the bed that an odd thought came to his head, and a smile came to his face. It stayed as he washed the blood off of his torso and jacket quickly, before moving towards the bed. Now shirtless, Garth laid down next to the bulge in the bed, and said nothing as he stared up at the ceiling - but it wasn't too hard to see a slight goofy grin on his face as he did so. Sure, he still felt the need to apologize and return to his apathetic, monotonous standard, but right now he felt that good kind of weird that he only remembered feeling with Ado.