Malachai Parker wasn't the only person to massacre his family. Along with him was Isabelle Martin, a witch who held his hand along the way, letting him siphon painlessly.
You could say she was as crazy as he. Unable to see the destruction he truly...
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Then
"It seems like you've found me this time" Mal smiled as I walked across the street.
I had recently found a lovely sheer dress. White and flowing in the spring time wind. And with that image, Malachai's whole demeanour lightened significantly.
While I sat beside him with the sun beating down, I realised how hot the concrete was against the soles of my feet. We were seated on the edge of the pavement, our shoulders squished together as I rested my head on his shoulder. No matter how long we were apart, my heart always fluttered at the sight of the siphoner. We may not have been the most stable couple, but what relationship could thrive in a prison world?
"Are we always going to be like this? Forever going on and on, huh?",
Silence.
"I guess that's just the way we do it now. I talk, you don't... I guess that's how we've always done it though-" he breathed out with a chuckle. "- I've always been chatty. I know, you've always said that. 'Malachai can't you ever be quiet?'. God, I don't even sound like you. So why don't we do this... I'm gonna say, I've always been chatty and you're gonna say that... Okay?",
I said nothing.
And with that, he took in a long gulp of air before he stood and gestured for me to take his hand. Once my fingers curled around his own, he beamed with that toothy smile. The one that made me fall all over again.
"Come on, I've got an idea" he announced officially before sprinting off with me in tow.
My feet scraped against the tarmac, the wind lapped at my hair and his head always kept turning toward me, he kept looking behind. Maybe he wanted to make sure he wasn't alone. Or, he just wanted to see if I was still hanging on. And I was, so tightly in fact, my knuckles clouded white as we ran down the empty streets of Portland, Oregon.
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Eventually, he dragged me into a karaoke bar and sat me down amongst many tables and chairs but still right before the stage.
"What song do you prefer? This one!" He yelled out, with a raised arm holding a Green Day CD.
At that point I couldn't refuse and frantically nodded my head as he set everything up. All throughout the night he sang, and even if he was off-key, I couldn't help but adore his over dramatic gestures. Especially, when he played Nirvana.
When my favourite song came to its last note, Mal slid across the stage with beads of sweat covering his brow while he breathed heavily. And without a thought, I stood and clapped my hands with my own laughter ringing out across the room.
With the sound, Malachai came alive once again. He stood suddenly as a smile curled against my pink lips.
"Another?" He questioned.
"Unless you can't handle it" I said, even surprising myself after the words forced themselves from my mouth.
