October 2, 2007

  • Beginnings Chapter 8

    Well, here's chapter 8. As always, enjoy...  ... I really need to stop talking to myself...


    Beginnings Chapter 8: Sara's Chapter

    Vlad looked up from his book to find Azazel staring at him quietly. “What?” he asked curtly, snapping the novel closed.
     
    Azazel blushed, glancing around the room before settling his attention on a piece of thread sticking out from the carpet. “Nothing.”
     
    Behind him, his magical fire on the stone shelf, which kept the room glowing warmly, sputtered and died, casting them into darkness.
     
    “Oh!”
     
    Vlad grinned. The first thing he had learned about was Azazel’s lack of attention span. Leave it to the blonde to get frazzled and distracted over silly little things.
     
    The flame flickered back to life, once again making the dank room seem almost homey. Azazel smiled self consciously. “Sorry…”
     
    Vlad waved a hand dismissively. “It’s no big deal. I like the dark better anyway.” His grin widened. “You’re blushing.”
     
    “I am not. Leave me alone.”
     
    “You are too.”
     
    “Go back to reading,” Azazel snapped, turning away.
     
    “And you were being so friendly.”
     
    “You’re messing with me. I bet you get a kick out of my discomfort.”
     
    Vlad snarled. “You know that isn’t true.”
     
    “How can I be certain?” Azazel asked. “I don’t know anything about you.” He rolled over again. “Locking yourself in here with me could simply be a charade. Perhaps you and Kaggren planned it out. I’ll be easier to control if I’m crazy, right?” He paused, then glared at Vlad as if he had been the one ranting.
     
    “You’re paranoid. No one wants to make you go insane. I think you have that covered pretty damn well on your own.”
     
    They stared hard at each other until their supper was delivered. Neither ate, quickly however; they merely picked at the food. Though, Vlad enjoyed the stew more than Azazel seemed to.
     
    Eventually, Vlad did pick his book up again. He was far from upset about Azazel. In fact, he preferred the arguments to long, contented silences they shouldn’t have been experiencing.
     
    When he looked up again, Azazel was chewing thoughtfully on a piece of bread. The blonde caught his gaze and laughed quietly at some private joke. Vlad’s eyes narrowed, but he buried his face in the book once more, trying to ignore Azazel’s tormenting.
     
    He didn’t miss the cautious look, or the slow movements as Azazel added his stew to Vlad’s own bowl.