You're Just Not My Type

You're Just Not My Type (Chapter 6)

6.

I had this one already typed up... I will get around to working on Youth of the Night today. Hope you enjoy it, it is a bit slow but it will start picking up soon! All is necessary to continue the story! :-D Don't forget to VOTE VOTE VOTE AND COMMENT!!!!!!! Thanks bunches and bunches,

Stacy

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"Thomas? I've been looking all over for you. I thought you stood me up." Abigail was standing in front of Thomas, her hands perched on her hips.

"I saw you when I walked in, Abigail. You seemed quite content with the other guy you were talking with. I thought it was best I didn't bother you." Thomas stood, knocking the grass from the seat of his pants. He wasn't in the mood to party any longer, it was better if he wrangled Francis in and left. Hopefully he got his fill already.

"But." Before she could finish talking Thomas started walking off. "I thought you liked me." She yelled across the lawn.

Thomas turned around slowly, his face was pulled into a straight stern gaze, "We aren't together, Abigail. You can talk to whomever you'd like. I do like you, only as a friend though." With that said, he left her alone on the lawn.

After searching for twenty minutes, Thomas finally found Francis in a upstairs room with a girl. She had a dazed expression on her face as Francis had his face buried in her neck. "We need to leave once your done." Thomas said quietly. Francis finished a second later, before pulling away he licked the two small wounds, healing them instantly.

"All you remember is making out with me, then I had to leave. You will return to the party and enjoy yourself." Francis spoke in a monotone voice. The girl got up swiftly and was out the door leaving Thomas and Francis alone. "What happened, my friend, to make you want to leave so suddenly?" Francis eyed him curiously as he wiped a bit of blood from the corners of his mouth.

"I'd rather not talk about it." Thomas mumbled as he opened the door again to exit the party for good.

"Thomas Culpepper, you know I won't drop this. You might as well tell me." Francis called out. Thomas zipped to his face faster than any human eye could see.

"Do NOT call me by that last name, NOT HERE." He demanded as a low growl ripped from his throat.

"Calm yourself, boy." Francis held his hand up. "I know you want to keep your identity a secret. We have been partners in this endless life for a long time now, over 500 years. You've always been able to talk to me, so tell me. Why do you want to leave?"

"Catherine. That's why." Thomas said as he walked out the door, not stopping until he reached his car. Seconds later, Francis joined him.

"What about Catherine? She's dead." Francis' eyebrows were furrowed together in confusion.

"I know, Francis. She is dead. But how is it she still haunts me?" Thomas growled as he slammed his hands down on the steer wheel. When he had first saw Anne he thought of how uncanny she favored her ancestor, but now. Now she could practically be her. The hair, those eyes, and even her care free laugh, it all reminded Thomas' cold dead heart of the love he lost.

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"Annie? Are you okay?" Natalie started calling out the second she opened the door. She stopped when she spotted Anne sitting on her bed with the ruined dress across her lap. "What happened? I saw you run outside, then you just disappeared. I had to ask around until someone said they saw you take a cab."