P, page 5
He sounded sure that it was a good idea and I can't really think of anything better so I will hope he knows what he's talking about and buy her a coffee tomorrow. A coffee that tastes absolutely horrible, I realize when I finally get around to trying it. The smell is one thing, it's actually pleasant and calming, the taste however, I feel like I just swallowed a handful of flowers. As I am leaving the coffee house I pour the nasty drink into one of the potted plants and take the empty cup back with me to the hotel I've rented for a few days. I rinse it out and set it on the dresser and lie down on the bed and think hard about the things I need to ask Prayer Walker and what I should say to get her talking to me. I come up with many ways to open a conversation and toss them almost as fast as I think them up. After a great deal of deliberation I grin to myself as I finally know what I'm going to say and how I'm going to say it. Looking at the clock in the corner of the TV I see it's after four in the morning, time to grab a few hours of shut eye before I try again with Miss Prayer Walker.
Prayer
Today had started off like any normal work day. I got up, had my shower, got dressed, did my hair, grabbed a fast breakfast I could eat while I walked and headed out the door. There were no clients pushing my buttons, the phone was a normal steady stream of callers, all the appointments were on time and I even got out for my coffee break on time. That's where normal came to a screeching halt. When I had walked out of the building I had glanced up and for just a second I had seen him. He had taken my breath away just for a moment.
He was tall, above average but not freakishly, I would say probably somewhere around six foot three. His hair was black and long, I could tell it goes down his back just from the way the sides fell across his shoulders and onto his chest. He was wearing a long sleeve button up pale blue shirt and I wondered if it would match his eyes, I couldn't see those from across the street. A pair of black slacks and I couldn't make out the shoes much either but probably dress shoes. From what I could see he was a work of art and I took a mental picture so I could take that image out later and play with him in my dreams.
While in line at the coffee shop I had heard someone come in behind me and sensed when they were standing behind me. It was the sniffing that had gotten my attention. I know what I smell like. I go out of my way to be sure that I smell that way everyday. The lavender is a clean, pretty scent that I can use at work without offending anyone there but also staying apart from all the oils and essences and lotions that the place carries. The second time he sniffs at me I can tell he is closer behind me and I'm trying to decide if I should turn around and call him out or take the passive aggressive route and simply comment out loud about manners or the lack thereof.
I step up to the counter to place my order and oh dear lord, he does it again. Deciding to use the kill them with kindness method, I quietly order a second cup, scribble a little note on the to-go cup and pay for both. With a wink at the cashier I leave the cup on the counter and subtly point to the man behind me. I turn and go to walk past the man and my heart skips one single beat when I see the beautiful man from across the street. I was wrong, his shirt does not match his eyes because they are a very deep green. He doesn’t notice me looking at him and I walk out and return to work. He may be the first man I have felt even the most fleeting interest in but the whole sniffing thing was setting me back a bit.
The rest of the day goes by without a hitch and as I'm tidying up my desk I see my empty coffee cup and it makes me think again of Mr. Tall, dark and sniffy. Out of the blue I am hit with thoughts that should prove I'm losing my mind. What if I smelled bad to him? What if he actually hates lavender? What if he's allergic? What if his mom died recently and she always smelled like lavender and I was accidentally traumatizing the poor man? Wait, what? Why am I doing this to myself, I didn't do anything wrong. Only I could handle a cringe worthy moment with what felt like perfect poise and humor and wind up blaming myself a few hours later.
I shake my head at myself finishing up and head home ready to end the day and start fresh tomorrow. I'll get through tomorrow and then it's my weekend and I'll get the reset that I always need after a full week. When I get home I look at the kitchen and decide no, not cooking tonight, deli meat sandwich and some tea and I'll be in my pajamas in no time. While preparing my dinner I make sure to put all thoughts of the hot guy with the nose out of my mind. At the very least I make an effort to do so, but like when someone says 'don't look down' and you just have to look down, the harder I try not to think of him, the more I'm thinking of him. This would not be so frustrating if it wasn't for the fact that my total knowledge of his existence is somewhere between six and eight minutes and I didn't learn much in that time.
I know he's beautiful, hot, sexy even, but I can't nail it down to one feature. I give up the battle and while I'm eating I take out my mental photo collection and review. He's tall and well built, but that's an easy one, lots of guys are tall with good bodies. His long hair is so black and not like a shiny raven's wing either. It's like the light doesn't reflect off of him but is actually absorbed by him. Those eyes, so deep and heavy but the color is like an aerial view of a dark green forest and why is it that men always get the long beautiful lashes. I have a feeling that just like a forest, I could get lost in those eyes. His nose is long and straight but with a regal effect to it that balances out the more delicate looking cheekbones. His bottom lip is perfectly round and almost pouty while the top lip is thinner and more stern looking. When taken apart and viewed separately there is nothing remarkable there but when you look at him overall he's simply stunning. Literally the only other thing I know about him is that he sniffs people in public places.
I think it's people in general anyway. After washing the dishes I start getting ready for bed and my brain latches on to that bizarre thought. Does he go around smelling everyone he comes in contact with? He has to, right? It couldn't be just me. Unless, oh God, what if he really was allergic to me? No, stop this. Stop this circle of stupidity before you even jump in. It's late, you are tired, admittedly that was a weird experience and he would have been memorable without the cringe. Feeling I have done what I can to lecture my wandering mind back into place, I focus on my breathing and begin to feel that heavy feeling of sleep pulling me down. Just before my mind goes completely black an image of those deep green eyes appears and I take one last deep breath and fall asleep.
Chapter 4
Prayer
The next morning I wake up next to instead of on the couch and bump my head on the coffee table as I'm trying to sit up. Ah, a great start to the day I see. I pull myself up onto the couch and flop my arms out beside me, annoyed at my sleeping self for leaving me on the floor. The laptop is on the island counter separating the kitchen from my living area and I can't see the screen from here. I have no idea what time it is because like a normal person I keep my clock next to my bed so I can see it when I wake up. Unlike a normal person I'm not always where I left myself when I wake up.
I pull myself up and head to my bedroom feeling grateful that today is my last day this week and I can feel my reset coming on. It's a Lovely Letters weekend as well and I start to feel a slight energy run through me until I look at the clock. That clock does not say seven o'clock, it can't. I have to have everything ready in the office by eight. Nope, not a great start at all. I fight my way out of my pajamas, because when you are in a hurry absolutely nothing will work with you, tossing them on the floor as I walk to the bathroom to shower and brush my teeth. So it appears today will be one of those no makeup, wet hair in a bun, whatever clothes I find in the closet kind of day. Well damn.
I perform spectacular feats of aerobic body and hair washing with my toothbrush stuck in my mouth. Five minutes later and I'm out, buffing my body with a towel in one hand while pulling things out of drawers and off hangers with the other. I run in circles around the house, pulling on clothes while putting my hair up in the messiest of all messy buns. I grab a mango smoothie out of the fridge and race out the door hopping as I try and get my shoes on with one hand holding my purse and liquid breakfast with the other. I wonder offhand if I look as crazed as I feel running at top speed with my bag bouncing in the wind while I slosh down my not so smoothie.
I make it to the doors with five minutes to spare so I make sure the doors are unlocked and hit the button that opens all the blinds. Dashing through the door back rooms I turn on lights and plug in oil warmers and other instruments and get the coffee started in the break room. I am pretty sure that my lungs are attempting to collapse but I keep forcing air into them and for that my ribs are cramping and my stomach muscles are bunching when I fall down into my chair just as the staff start filing in. I get a bunch of cheerful greetings and I place a smile on my face and wave at each one, sucking air in between my teeth hoping my breathing will right itself soon.
Thirty minutes later I have calmed down, everything is running smoothly and the day is looking up. For the next two hours I do my normal routine of answering calls, making appointments, handling clients and generally keeping the place running smooth. I'm excited, it was a rough start to the day but now I'm just counting down the hours. I can feel the call of the weekend and I need to remember to pick up ice cream on the way home. Now, should I just have ice cream for dinner, I mean damn if I didn't work out enough just getting here today. I'll pick up cookies and they can be ice cream sandwiches-.
My brain loses thought as a tanned hand with long, strong fingers wrapped around a coffee to-go cup slips into my view. I blink a few times trying to focus on the cup. There is writing on it that says 'Your scent is pleasing, I’d call it devine, Your coffee tastes awful, Won't you try mine.' My eyes shoot up and I'm staring into the forest green orbs of my beautiful, umm, stalker? I sniff at the cup and look him in the eye.
“Is that peppermint mocha?” I ask him raising an eyebrow
“Yes.” Alrighty then do I have to give him another cup to write on to get more words?
“Dude, who are you?” I ask him trying not to sound like I’m the crazy one.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” He smiles at me. Nah, not getting off that easy pretty stalker boy.
“You don’t know who you are?” I stare at him with confusion.
“No, I-” He tries to answer me but still, nah. Poetry from stalkers isn’t a freebie.
“If you don’t know who you are, do you think I know you? “ Trying very hard to sound concerned and helpful.
“No, I am-” Nope, not done with him yet.
“Oh, are you following me because I remind you of your dead mother?” I ask him with wide eyes.
“My mother is not dead. I-” He looks at me narrowing his eyes and I have to keep my face plastered in a look of concern.
“Your dead sister then?” I ask again, giving him the wide, innocent and concerned eyes. I’m going to be wanting an award for this performance, thank you.
“My sister isn’t dead either. Why are you so sure all my family is dead? What have we done to you?” He asks me. Okay then, he may have suffered enough.
“I don’t know if you have done something to me or not. Do you know why?” I ask him, smiling.
“No, I mean, I really don’t.” He looks so confused, poor guy.
I lean in and lower my voice “It’s because.” I raise my voice “I don’t know you!” He takes one step back and I’m pretty sure the word aghast applies to the look on his face.
“I’m Avalon, I apologize.” I really don’t think he says that much.
“You should have led with that, Big Guy, I’m Prayer Walker.” I say holding my hand out and giving him the biggest ‘I-win’ smile I can. “You know you deserved worse, right?” I say still smiling at him.
Avalon
What exactly, just happened? I’m staring at Prayer’s hand as she is shaking mine but I don’t feel as though I’m actually a part of this moment. More like I’m watching it from across the room or something. I knew she wasn’t human, but I’m not sure she’s, well I mean is she in charge of all her faculties? She’s talking, wait no, I have to listen to her, I have questions. I’m not sure she’s capable of reasonable answers but I still have to ask questions, I can’t ask them here, but she thinks I’m a stalker, how will I get her out of here. Oh damn, she stopped talking, and we all know wasn’t listening. I can see it on her face, she knows I couldn’t focus on those words to save my life. She did that on purpose. What had she said? I deserved worse. Oh blah, just confess and take the loss.
“I don’t think I heard a word you said once you slapped me with the ‘you deserved worse’ line.” I say honestly, staring down at her hand still holding mine.
“I said my name is Prayer Walker, you said Avalon, Avalon what? Or is it just Avalon? Like a rock star or something?” she asks, gently pulling her hand out of mine.
“We really didn’t use them when I’m from. I’m not in the habit of using it. My name is Avalon Sippar.” Not entirely true but not a lie.
“When is that from Avalon?” she asks.
“What?” I look down at her and I can feel that confusion setting in again. I swear she talks like a spider spinning a web and I am going to be in the middle I can feel it. Who is this woman? What is she?
“You said when I’m from.” she states.
“I meant where, I’m sorry.” I try brushing off my slip.
“No, you meant when, but that’s ok because I am learning to just expect crazy from you.’ she says, and doesn’t sound the least bit distressed.
“My brother’s often say that I am a little bit off, or I suppose crazy also, but I’m the oldest so I expect it.” What exactly am I doing? I need her to leave with me and talk to me alone and here I am implying to her that I am in fact a crazy person. “So now I’m the crazy stalker person who can’t stand your coffee.” I think, and then realize no, no I said that outloud. Lovely.
“Yeah, but as long as you accept it we can work with that.” She says grabbing her purse and walking around her desk heading toward the door. She stops and turns around. “Are you coming?” I would say she looks at me like I’m crazy but I'm thinking that's just going to be her permanent expression until I can explain everything.
“I think so, yes, I’m coming.” I agree, having no idea where we are going or why she decided to leave. She didn’t take her coffee though so I turn back real quick and grab it from the table. It’s fine if she doesn’t like it, that lavender concoction was, I have no words actually, I can still drink this cup. I’m pretty sure I’m going to need it anyway.
I follow her out the door and start planning in my head the things I have to say to her. I try and make lists of the questions I need to ask her. I’m here for information. This woman is living proof that my theory could be correct and I’m just following her around, letting her believe I’m what? An idiot? Daft? Mad as a hatter? This should only get better when I not only tell her I am a vampire but that she is also not human.
How am I meant to say these things and why the devil didn’t I think that before, well before I even left the den? I stop focusing on my thoughts for a moment and look around me, a little shocked that we've gone this far without me noticing. I know where we are but I really don't want to let her know I know. Hey, this is your house. No, I promise not the stalker you think I am, just a vampire trying to stop a supernatural catastrophe and need to know what species you are. I roll my eyes internally at the whole situation. I should have had Phillip doing this. She wouldn't have thought he was an insane stalker. She'd probably have looked at him and said 'awww such a sweet man', like they all do. However, that causes me some annoyance to think about so I push it aside. I can't be an insane vampire stalker who is also just randomly pissed off.
She comes to a stop on the sidewalk and I stop with her, assuming I will look confused about where we are. I'm not, I know it's her house, but I am confused about why we are here. Does she always bring people she thinks might be nuts back to her house? I look toward the house then look back at her, am I supposed to say something? Oh no, has she been talking this whole time? Worst. Habit. Ever. I tune absolutely everything out when I'm thinking. You know what, I'm doing it again.
"Do you know where we are, Avalon?" She asks looking up at me.
I'm not going to lie to her, I don't even want to, but if I can be evasive she might not notice. So, I cock my head slightly to the side and raise an eyebrow at her in the universal body language for 'tell me, I'm clueless'.
"It's my house. Do you know why I brought you here?" She asks.
This one I can answer. "No, I have no idea why we are at your house. " I mean I really don't know. I'm also not sure I want to.
"I love a good story. You, Avalon, I sense you are a good story. I don't have a lot of people I talk to and I don't think you have any friends-"
"I have friends." I say cutting her off somewhat offended.
"Of course you do. However, I want to hear this story. So here's what we're going to do. I'm going to call my job and tell them something came up and I won't be coming back from break. Then we're going to sit and chat and you will tell me what your interest is in me and then I'll let you know if I have any interest in you. " She says and walks up to her door.
That is the most condescending and again borderline offensive thing I've heard. I think maybe ever. I truly need to know who this woman is, where she comes from and who her people are or I would be tempted to walk away right now. Run, I would run away. I am curious though, if she thought I was stalker material or crazy, maybe just a liar, why is she bringing me into her home?
"Prayer, I believed you thought I was crazy, following you, whatever. Why are we going in your house? That doesn't seem safe. Does it?" I ask her just trying to piece together how this woman thinks.
"Avalon, you are not a threat. Yes, you were kind of rude to be sniffing me, but you did it in a public coffee shop, not at, I don't know, a bus terminal or something. Yes, you showed up at my job, not completely sure about that yet but, you came in and talked to me, not hanging around a corner waiting for me so you could attack me. Let's not forget, I told you that you were coming in my house to have a talk and you asked if that's really safe. For me. Nope, not scared of you. " she finishes, opening the door and waving me into her home.
