Cold One

Fifteen: Burning

Zion

I feel worried that Rosaline isn't coming back so quick.

After we got back to the house, she told me to wait upstairs because she needed to do something first, which I didn't have the gut to ask what. After seeing how merciless she was when she fought back in Westphalia, I can't lie and say it doesn't effect at all. Because to he honest, the fear is reaching out to me still, no matter how hard I convince myself that I wouldn't be the next vampire she slaughter.

It actually shouldn't matter where she's at, but I can't help it.

Closing my eyes, I try to hear if I can catch the sound of her movements anywhere near. Her car is still parked but I don't know if she got out the house or not.

But what I get instead for trying to clear my head and focus is the scene that happened in Westphalia.

It's still fresh in my mind of despite the way she killed the vampires so expertly, she's still capable of getting hurt as much as she's capable of running from the danger. I used to think that she's the devil in disguise when she fought –the way it's so ruthless of her and just how cold her eyes look, but now that I've seen it clear; she's still human. No matter how loud her name echoes through the darkness of New Orlean Base's hall, no matter how harsh the stories told about her. She's still very human, still very capable of dying. Human, a piece that she could never split apart from herself.

After deciding waiting and try to sense where she is at the moment are no big use, I finally decide to get out of the room and go downstairs to see her.

It's pitch black outside and er house sounds empty, the others must've been sleeping by now.

I creep at the living room, and dining room, and some others room until I finally spot her figure on the kitchen, currently drinking some water.

The room is only lighted by the moon that shines through the opened window, dark and familiar to my view. Shadow is hugging her tall frame, caressing her long raven hair beautifully.

She glances very swiftly at my presence without me even making a sound, something that surprises me. But then again, she wouldn't have her title for nothing.

"Cold one," she says as she places her glass down on the table, turning around to look at me then. "What are you doing here?"

I approach her, walking closer until we're about three feet away from each other. Her facial is clearer here, more vivid. The shadows lingers on her facial, her grey eyes barely hold any colors –looking almost pitch black.

"I was looking for you," I tell her. "You said you'd return briefly so I waited, but you still  didn't return." I try not to sound like I care, because after all, I don't care –only curious.

"I got things to deal with," she mutters, placing something on her jacket pocket. It has a crackling sound, like if you put very tiny pebbles on a container. It makes me curious. It's probably human's medicine, but Rosaline doesn't seems like she's sick.

"What did you put inside your pocket?" I ask out of curiosity.

Rosaline slightly furrows her eyebrows, as if she didn't think I would notice. My hearing is way further than human that I can hear her devil brother snorring like an ogre or her smallest sister still up drawing something in a paper this late. However, Rosaline was so silent here I barely could figure what she was doing.

She doesn't need to know that.

"Nothing that should concern you," she tells me with her icy voice. Her eyes suddenly travels to my neck as if it catches her attention. She smirks. "It's still very amusing to see your neck."