Abyssion, n. 1. The perception of falling that occurs while watching your loved one rise."
(Morning of March 27th, 2014)
"Get this dead thing off my bathroom floor right now or else I'm calling Vlad!” A female voice screamed from across the house, echoing harshly off tiled walls and found itself inside the garage.
A tall adolescent-looking boy looked up from his video game with a mischievous grin, “His name is not Vlad, Lacië. What kind of vampire is named Vlad anyway?” He yelled in reply, not exiting his perch on Lacië's old couch. He threw his head back in amusement, running his scarred fingers through his earthly crimson hair awaiting a response from his friend.
Lacië hesitated mid-mop, accidentally wiping dog blood across her right cheek. “The ones in movies!” She replied, cringing at the sight of the deformed pitbull that was sprawled out in her bath tub. She spat at it and threw her head back with a sigh, continuing to mop the mess her friend left for her... in her very white bathroom. Lacië knew these stains would never come out if she resorted to only using mundane products, but her warlock friend wouldn't answer her texts so she was stuck just mopping the stain to death.
“Not a valid answer. But I guess I'll help you clean that thing up... the blood tasted awful anyway.” Lacië's friend breathed into her neck, causing her to jump and turn to hit him upside the head with her bloody mop. “Jeez sweetheart,” He cooed, trying to wipe the blood from his off-white “probably from some popular mens store every young man talks about” button up. “why'd you do that? This is new shirt and you know it!”
Lacië raised an eyebrow and looked at him skeptically, slowly lowering the blood soaked cleaning utensil from his pale face. “Yeah! New to you, Xavier!” She joked with a cheesy grin that curved the edges of her small, plump lips. “I know you stole 'em somehow, there's no receipts sitting around as they would normally after you actually purchase something. Is that Andy's brother's? Is that Delael's? It's definitely not yours... I've had to do your laundry waaaaaaay too often.”
Xavier scratched the back of head and Lacië could almost hear his gears turning in his head, trying to come up with a lie or excuse. Lacië knew this boy all too well. Although very aesthetically pleasing, Xavier had a lackage of functioning brain cells (since his brain has failed to work at its fullest potential after his turning) and had trouble thinking of new ideas on purpose. He was always very good at improvising and thinking on the spot, but he's never been terribly good at planning things ahead. Before Xavier could respond with a inadequate comeback that Lacië would just scoff at, someone scrolled through the front door that was left ajar.
Andy. “What's the ol' married couple arguing about now?” The golden eyed werewolf teased, tucking a reluctantly curled strand of burgundy hair behind her ear. Lacië didn't let her planned scoff go to waste as she reacted to her good friend's routine of walking into her home and letting Lacië hear how silly her arguments with Xavier sound.
“Do you hear that Lacië Mary? Someone else agrees! We should get married, shouldn't we?” Xavier exclaimed animatedly, his expressions moving from one to an extreme next fluidly.
Lacië glared bloody daggers into Xavier's carefree dead eyes. “First things first: my middle name is not Mary! Secondly-!”
“Well it sounds like Mary!” The vampire interrupted with a grin, shrugging in honest obliviousness and bracing himself for a stern scolding from his abrasive roommate. Lacië's snow white face rose to a noticeable crimson and her mouth opened, only allowing a squeak to escape. She slowly composed herself, which took several uncomfortable seconds, and willed herself to speak without jumping down Xavier’s throat(in two different senses).
