A Much Needed Conversation [ David & Dietre ]
[Yeah so I'm in 3 threads. I CANT BE CONTAINED.]
Life only continued to get more complicated. A mix of poor choices, bad luck, and pessimistic thinking. Street fights, attempted murder and gunshots. How did everything get more dangerous after he gave up being a hitman? And who would have thought that life as a paid killer would feel easier than this? And the pack...Now that was a mess. A constant sensation of being ripped in two whenever he was with them. The wolf within longing for connections, the human desperate to protect himself from future pain. All around him there was nothing that felt secure, nothing permanent, nothing he could cling to without the fear that it could, and would, crumble and leave him to fall.
These heavy, dreary thoughts made him restless, peace continued to be elusive, and the mounting frustration was bound to lead him to even more trouble, he was absolutely certain of it. He walked briskly, hoping to escape the feeling of being trapped that followed him everywhere, and eventually the streets became familiar, though the houses and signs of humanity grew sparse. He could lie to himself the whole way, but he knew perfectly well where he was going. As much as he ran away from close attachments, he was desperate for understanding, an ear for his troubles, something sincere.
There was a hope in him that David could be these things, that he was. He felt, somehow, that David was safe territory, completely separate from the rest of his life. He had told no one about the vampire. He was sure that none of his acquaintances knew anything about David, let alone was aware of their tentative friendship. David was something all his own. Met and accepted on Dietre's own terms, based on common ground, where there was no suspicions of being pitied or kept around out of morals and duty.
His wandering brought him before the grand house that he had had a hand in choosing for the vampire. Its size would have been imposing if the boy hadn't found it so beautiful. He lingered about the street for some time, and then, almost in a rush lest he lose his courage, he sprang up the steps and banged the door knocker (something told him that David would prefer the sound over the electric chime of a doorbell).
Life only continued to get more complicated. A mix of poor choices, bad luck, and pessimistic thinking. Street fights, attempted murder and gunshots. How did everything get more dangerous after he gave up being a hitman? And who would have thought that life as a paid killer would feel easier than this? And the pack...Now that was a mess. A constant sensation of being ripped in two whenever he was with them. The wolf within longing for connections, the human desperate to protect himself from future pain. All around him there was nothing that felt secure, nothing permanent, nothing he could cling to without the fear that it could, and would, crumble and leave him to fall.
These heavy, dreary thoughts made him restless, peace continued to be elusive, and the mounting frustration was bound to lead him to even more trouble, he was absolutely certain of it. He walked briskly, hoping to escape the feeling of being trapped that followed him everywhere, and eventually the streets became familiar, though the houses and signs of humanity grew sparse. He could lie to himself the whole way, but he knew perfectly well where he was going. As much as he ran away from close attachments, he was desperate for understanding, an ear for his troubles, something sincere.
There was a hope in him that David could be these things, that he was. He felt, somehow, that David was safe territory, completely separate from the rest of his life. He had told no one about the vampire. He was sure that none of his acquaintances knew anything about David, let alone was aware of their tentative friendship. David was something all his own. Met and accepted on Dietre's own terms, based on common ground, where there was no suspicions of being pitied or kept around out of morals and duty.
His wandering brought him before the grand house that he had had a hand in choosing for the vampire. Its size would have been imposing if the boy hadn't found it so beautiful. He lingered about the street for some time, and then, almost in a rush lest he lose his courage, he sprang up the steps and banged the door knocker (something told him that David would prefer the sound over the electric chime of a doorbell).