Stephen felt very much at peace after giving up the title of sorcerer supreme and settling back into the old habits of a surgeon. He had thought being a vampire would be a major drawback until it had healed his hands. Until he had people who he coul...
She knew he was staking his life for her. Her instinct murmured to her to stay and wait where he wanted her to wait however she knew she couldn't. She let her magic flow through his, deliberately stripping down the shadows.
Lapping into the water, blurred images obscured her vision, cold water stung her pores and distorted creatures swam towards her. As her energy flashed its ferocity at the creatures, he only seemed to move farther and farther from her.
Then something latched around her hand. At first, she thought it was water weeds, but it wasn't - it was one of those ugly creatures that were thrashing violently, metamorphosing into something... beautiful.
It was a vision. It was a trap. She gathered all the strength she could and aimed at the burnished surroundings of the memory.
It cracked. Shaking violently, soon making her realise so was the water around her. She kicked wildly, trying to propel herself deeper, but merely pushed herself farther from Stephen.
He frantically moved about when he had the little hands no longer in his. His vision blurred and blurred by every minute, and his lungs burned. He was inside for more than usual his kind could take. Maybe he could take one breath and then search for her.
Stephen tried to push himself towards the surface but he was going down and down with every passing minute. Somewhere, something was glowing. He couldn't see any clearer, and darkness was closing by...
He could feel he was outside the current now. It was dry, grainy and too bright to see. He lay there idly, wondering if this was what the afterlife felt like. Then he had second thoughts upon hearing someone violently coughing and retching. Before Y/N could rejoice to see him awake, he clutched his stomach, his body set on the same course of action as hers. "I told you not to come," he said, hunkering motionlessly on his hands and knees. She wanted to punch his face but instead grasped him in an awkward hug. "A thank you would have sounded better."
They slogged, arms locked, along the sandy beach with the backdrop of the sunset. Stephen suddenly said, "I was hallucinating..." "Very genius of you to notice that," she huffed, still clutching her stomach that flipped and flopped like a fish out of water. "Thanks..." She whined when he scooped her up in his arms. If he was going to run along an invisible trail, she definitely would throw up again. "How did you manage to get us home?" He asked, continuing at a human pace. Her mind was occluded to get a clear assessment of their situation. His question didn't make any sense. "I remember just pulling us to the surface, nothing else."
She had passed out by the time he made it to the house. It was a tiny house on a tiny island. Wrapped around vegetation on three sides and the beach on the other, it was where he liked spending most of the time when not preoccupied with anything serious. Placing her on the bed, he opened the glass doors overlooking the sea, airing out the room. It was too warm and stuffy for his liking. Thinking she might love to wake up to the dazzling glow of the sun, he left the billowing curtains open.
The visions he had were for sure not in the exact order of occurence as he had been seen. Few things must have been common to the three of them.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
