Heartbeat [Alec Volturi]

Survival

I hadn't noticed it at first.

It did not take long for me to change into the clothing I'd arrived in and throw my few possessions into my bag. I was ready within minutes after I'd been left to my own devices and I wanted to move quickly. I had no way to know how much longer I had before Alec's arrival. The vampire once again being forced to guard me while trying not to kill me. Which was apparently, inevitable.

A bitter part of me was glad that he was assigned to me for this next shift. If Alec was supposed to be guarding me, he would have to punish himself for my escape this time. Still, I wanted to leave before I had to see him. It would be easier that way.

However, I was being held up by the presence of an unexpected item that had been placed on the vanity table. I stood admiring the intricacy of the black leather bound journal. A thin strap wrapped around and tied at the side to keep the pages tightly bound within it. Unlike notebooks at a commercial bookstore, everything about this one declared its history. It certainly owned up to its age and could have been classified as lightly used -- if at all. My hand currently hovered above it, unsure of whether I should bring it with me or leave it behind.

"Mate in four."

"I see it in three." Jane declared smugly, knocking down the white king before resetting the table. As much as Jane abhorred losing, her real enemy in chess was her own patience. She had long since become fed up with the amount of time it took me to make a single move, a default of my human mind. Instead, she began to play herself and I was content to simply watch as the afternoon passed us by.

The giddy pride that surrounded her after every win made me smile. While we were decently matched, I rarely won. Somehow though, she seemed to find more pleasure in defeating herself. She wore a gloating grin every time she reset the board and it slowly shifted into a determined stare as another match began.

This time, my attention had shifted from the chess board to the stain glass window behind Jane. It framed her almost perfectly and though each held their own form of beauty, the glory of the glass only served to reiterate the exquisiteness of Jane's natural self. The vampire factor disappeared and there she was, clear as day.

Her features were defined by raised cheekbones, subtly decorated with a youthful amount of baby fat. It further projected the innocence that should accompany a young woman. Full lips set in an innate pout and a deep shade of pink, giving the impression that blood still flowed through her veins. Her hair was up in a favoured French twist and not a single hair was out of place. She blinked and scarlet flashed through long, thin eyelashes.

"What are you doing?" She was staring at my hand, which was darting around the counter's edge of the table. 

I removed it before retracing the pattern. "I was drawing you."

"Into the table?"

I shrugged, "I don't have paper." It was a trick I had learned during the various art focused heists and schemes my father directed. I never really had paper on hand, so if I wanted to remember a detail of a painting I would physicalise it for myself. The tactic isn't unusual, equivalent to a piano player tapping their fingers as if playing the keys of their instrument.

She tilted her head at me and I could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she processed this. "Shame." It was all she said before she returned to her game.

It was a gift. She had provided me with paper and it hurt me to acknowledge that now, I would never get the chance to actually paint her in person. My sentimentality was showing and it was wasting time. An instilled habit of traveling lightly was likely one of the only values both my life with my father and my life at the convent taught me. I pulled my hand away from the book, denying myself the frivolous present.