Chasing the clouds | L.S

Pilot: the start

He sat in the grass under the shade of an oak tree, almost a photo of what true beauty was. A photo of chocolate colored tousled curls, slender eyebrows furrowed in concentration, lovely Cupid's bow shaped lips pursed, jade green eyes and fair skin.

Perfection.

He had baby pink flowers linked together in a crown around his head. His scent was so soft, so pure and sweet like the flower crown sitting crookedly upon his brow. His smile was faint as his hand diligently scribbled into a synthetic leather bound journal.

"Harry!" At the sound of his name he immediately looked, attentive. "Liam!" he replied, his smile widening further. A brunette man in a red plaid shirt and blue jeans called to him, surrounded by a soft yellow, orange, blue and green glow. Harry saw colors around people, their auras if you will- but lately Liam's aura seemed to be fading darker to an almost sadder color.
"Hey. Are you drawing again?"
"Yeah."
Liam leaned over, bracing his hand on the tree as his eyes scanned over charcoal drawing. "It's lovely." He complimented.
"Thanks."
"Well, we've got to go- 'else you'll be late to class again. "Liam said worriedly.
"That's fine. I don't really agree with the professor -"
"Harry."
"And his teachings-"
"C'mon, mate. You worked hard to get into this Uni."
Harry frowned. "Alright..."He murmured, standing up. He gathered his things, his charcoal, and his journal and placed them into a forest green satchel. Then he and Liam walked, hurriedly to the other side of the campus.
--
Louis was starving.
No.
Actually, Louis was absolutely ravenous. He was craving blood. It had been so long since he last drank and he was so thirsty and hungry. His throat and stomach burned and panged, throbbing with the intense white-hot pain and need.

He had managed to get into this club; all he needed was someone who wanted to take him home. Luring them away should be easy enough.

He was attractive enough, with his straight yet feathery long dark brown hair, a red streak in it that was a sharp contrast to the cobalt blue of his eyes. Those hypnotic eyes nestled in a frame of lovely long lashes. That was the nature of his affliction, he had been comely when this world had been young but now it was like something magnetized people to him.
He was told it made him more beautiful.

Perhaps, his attire helped. The ripped punk clothing, the tattoo on his neck and ones on his his arms, the piercing on his left eyebrow and the one in his bottom lip on the right, his small gages, and the dark eyeliner on his waterline. A girl was making eye contact with him from afar. She looked interested in him by the way her eyes kept scanning him. He smiled in response, showing pearly whites.

If only she knew what he really was, she'd never smile back or make her way to him. She'd run as fast as she could, screaming.

Not that it would've mattered.

"Hi." She said, her voice breathy. "Hey." Louis replied, he could hear heart pounding and smell her body's reaction to his appearance. "Want to dance?" she asked, coyly fluttering her eyelashes.

Ah, American.

Louis didn't really have a flavor preference, but they tasted different depending on region, diet, even the kind of toothpaste they used-
But, his stomach was rumbling.
And he didn't care who she was or where she was from.
"I'd love to." Louis answered.
--
"HELP!" A girl screamed, her legs trembling as she ran. Only when she ran under a street lamp were the crimson red stains on her neck and her sparkling blue top visible. Pain was all round her, in her wounds, her lungs as they inhaled, her legs as she staggered.