Is coffee part of your vampire's diet, too? {Elliot}

Her nails were clicking-clicking-clicking on the table, bright green and tapping to the beat blasting its way into her mind. The large headphones fit comfortably over Patricia's ears, sitting on top of her lilac hair and playing the first ten to twenty seconds of whatever up beat song she shuffled to, changing over and over. It wasn't in her nature to let a song play through, but instead to move on to the next as fast as her thoughts sped through her head. In her other hand she held a pencil loosely, hand moving in quick strokes up and around, flying across the notebook settled in front of her. Her notes turned from an essay about the origins of French Impressionism to a sporadic display of little doodles: flowers, blowing wind, that stupid tree Shadow was always drawing. She paused her finger tapping and replaced it with a sip of her iced coffee before placing the chilled cup back onto the table outside of the coffee shop.

It was nice to be sitting in the sunlight, its warm glow washing over her skin and darkening it with time. It was a rare moment when she able to do so freely, without feeling that tugging guilt of leaving something behind, something that needed to be tended to. As for today, though, she was ahead of schedule with her school work (well, ok, she wasn't behind) and she had already told Shadow she would be out for the day. The conversation had gone as easily as she had expected; he was never one to deny her requests. When she had asked him if he minded that she wanted to meet Elliot and catch up she received a small smile and and a simple 'if you wish' as answer.

It had been some time since she had seen the other donor to the Graces. He had been reassigned, left the manor for another, and left Shadow's cousin Sorrow as well. It was past time Patricia saw him again, as she had grown up with him always around and considered him a part of her family. He was surprised to hear from her, no doubt, but Patricia would not be deterred. What was he up to, how was his new home working out? She needed to know. She needed someone else to talk to who knew her position...she could only connect so much to her friends at school, who she had to keep aspects of her life hidden from. She remembered Elliot being kind and polite, reserved in his actions. A bit like Shadow, now that she thought about it. Maybe that was part of why she had enjoyed growing up with him, all of them together in that drafty big manor. As long as she had someone there to share her time with it didn't seem so bad, and with Elliot being gone it was that much quieter. Not that she had seen him too often back then, as her time was almost exclusively spent with Shadow, but when she did she would attempt to loosen his tongue with endless questions and stories, speaking enough for all of them.

Pulling herself from her memories Patricia noticed her drawings had morphed while she reminisced, forming into a delicate rendition of Shadow's calm face. She sighed, moving her pencil to another area of the page, unhappy that her hands drew what her mind was trying to put aside for an afternoon. She wanted time out of the manor, away from those in it. The large corridors and open rooms had become preternaturally quiet as of late, what with most of the Graces off living their lives elsewhere for now. It was as if every corner she turned she found only shadows and dust, or else one of the Heads of the house, whom she attempted to avoid at all costs. Her inability to remain quiet for long was not a trait that put her into the good graces of those who had brought her here. That was why she needed this today. A few hours in the sun with a warm bodied person who understood.

Patricia perked up as another song started streaming through her headphones, and her nails resumed their happy clicking. She wouldn't even mind if Elliot was late, though she knew he wouldn't be. She was focused on her doodling and her music, a content smile in place on her cherry red lips.

As a child just the thought of going outside would cause Elliot to have a panic attack. He would bite his lower lip incessantly to keep himself from bolting. His palms would sweat profusely and no matter what he would be doing, he fidgeted nonstop. He lived in the confines of his bedroom mostly. Those four walls were his creation and his undoing. It sheltered him, shielded him from harm, but it also isolated him from the outside world. He would travel the world through words pressed in between pages of a book or let his consciousness wander the universe through the lens of a telescope. He preferred order and structure, cleanliness and security. Even thing that he adhered too, the outside world seemed to do the exact opposite, which terrified Elliot.

Those tendencies did not disappear overnight, in fact, even now as Elliot crossed Wiltshire Park, he still felt uneasy being in the vicinity of other people. Twice, his face turn beat red, and he took a peculiar interest in his shoelaces. The first encounter dealt with a women sprawled out on the grass, sunbathing. The other incident dealt with a young girl pointed in Elliot’s direction and telling her mother that Elliot was her prince charming, which prompted her mother to smile and wink in his direction. Consequently, he gave the women and the mother daughter duo a wide birth. Sorrow had a small part in helping Elliot overcome his fears, but it was thanks to Thunder that he realized just how beautiful the outside world really was. He became more than a donor when he left the main branch household. He became not only a donor but also an older brother, a mentor, a guardian, a friend and a confidant. Elliot had to adapt quickly to the new roles he was assign to, which made him view the world through different eyes, the eyes of a child; a child who is fascinated by everything, big or small, who finds endless enjoyment asking questions, seeking out answers and exploring the endless surroundings.

Elliot too found enjoyment in those adventures if he wanted to go or not. At first he thought he could be satisfied experiencing life through the written word, but now given the opportunity he would much rather see it for himself, experience It for himself. He still enjoyed the endless books found at the estate, and star gazing at all the constellations but those walls he built up so long ago, to insulate himself from the outside were eroding and crumbling down. When he received the letter from Patricia, it took little convincing from Lady Datura and Thunder to visit an old friend.

That was the reason why he was in Wiltshire, alone, Even as he was coming up to the coffee shop where Patricia asked him to meet, he still felt out of place, like a puzzle piece that did not belong . Looking at the menu placed outside, he did not know what a soy, non-fat mocha latte was, so instead of ordering anything, he made his way straight for Patricia. Elliot was not surprise to see a pencil in her hand, drawing whatever came to her.

“I am sorry I am late,” Elliot prompted, even though he knew he was punctual as always. He just did not like the thought of Patricia waiting for him, even though it might have been a few minutes. “Have you been waiting long?” he said not taking the seat across from Patricia, waiting politely for her to make the first move in offering up the empty seat to him.

It was pure luck that the song blasting through Patricia's headphones ended just then, and she chanced to look up from her scrawling and see Elliot standing in front of her, looking for all the world like a ghost that just found out it could leave its place of death.

“Elliot!” Patricia jumped up from her seat, nearly knocking her drink over in the process, and closed the distance between the two of them. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a quick hug before letting him go and returning to her seat. “Nope, I wasn't waiting long! Well, yes, actually. I came here after class but I wanted some time to work on an assignment with the extra time.” She glanced down at her notebook, all the empty spaced now filled with interconnecting scenes. She laughed cheerfully, pushing it aside to make room on the table. “Guess that didn't work.”

“Sit down you goof,” she demanded. “Are you going to get something to drink? Sometimes I feel like I live on coffee. It's no wonder Shadow is up all night, my blood must be like, 95% caffeine!” She took another gulp of the iced beverage, enjoying the way the ice crunched in between her teeth. Her eyes watched Elliot as he finally took a seat across from her, looking only slightly uneasy. It was a definite improvement from what she recalled. “So! You look great! Still pale as a fish but, hey, you're out in the sun now, so that's a step.” Her tone was playful, knowing that Elliot would clearly remember her joking ways.

He did look good: a bit older, more mature. If Patricia was more observant she might have noticed more of the change in him, but as of yet she only saw what was on the outside. She carelessly brushed her hair over one shoulder, wondering how she looked to Elliot's eyes. Her hair was a new color, something she did often, and her face thinner. The late nights and little sleep caught up to her every so often and she attempted to cover the dark circles under her eyes with concealer. Her schedule was demanding: classes in the morning, painting in the afternoon, and then trying to spend as much time as possible with Shadow during the night. She often collapsed in exhaustion when she reached her bed in the evenings, before Shadow awoke. Lately he would find her with a brush in hand slumped over her desk, or curled up with a cup of half drank coffee. She wondered if Elliot had these problems, too; if he perused something outside of his responsibility to his vampire. Patricia didn't know if many other donors besides her did, for it was a very hectic life to keep up with. She supposed it wouldn't be so bad if she didn't insist on spending so much time with her friend, but the thought of not seeing him as much as she did was enough to darken her happy mood. It was another thing to ask Elliot about. How was he able to leave Sorrow so easily?

Her gray eyes settled back onto Elliot's, brimming with questions. “How's your new pal treating you? What was it...a little girl, right? Oh, I've always wanted a little sister. I'd show her how to braid her hair and wear heels and put on lipstick...” Patricia's twinkling laugh was bright in the warm air and she only smiled when she noticed the men at a nearby table had looked over at her due to the noise. If they were bothered by her chatter they could go inside, or if they were interested in her slightly off kilter style they could look all they wanted. It mattered little to Patricia what anyone thought of her that she had no intention of knowing.

Even though Elliot was breaking out of his mold, extending his comfort to the outside world, he still did not know how to react to physical contact even though Patricia did it every time they saw one another. His arms remain rooted to his side, stiff as boards and he did not even take a breath as Patricia constricted her arms around him. When she finally released him, Elliot looked around to see if anyone saw, but no one did as they went about their day.

Taking a seat, he sat with his legs crossed and his hands on his lap. He looked so stiff, so formal but he made it look so natural. Seeing as how this was his first time in a coffee shop, he yielded to Patricia expertise, seeing as how her blood was probably the shade of coffee brown. “I will have whatever you are having.” Elliot could not help but smile at his own joke, even though he thought it to himself. He could not believe that he made a joke at the expense of Patricia. Patricia had a knack of bring out anyone’s jocularity, even one as mild manner as Elliot and Shadow.

Elliot sat in silence, letting Patricia talk until her heart was content. He did not mind at all as she moved onto one topic to another. It was just Patricia’s way. No two donors were alike. As Elliot listen to Patricia talk about fantasies about having a little sister, he saw all the things that made her unique, for instance the purple dyed hair, which was once silver, red, blue, black and all the spectrum in between at one point or another in Patricia’s life time. She was confident of who she is and what she wanted out of life. “No” and “Can’t” was never in her vocabulary. When she wanted to do something, she did it. Nothing was unattainable, when Patricia put her mind to it. That is what most people liked about her. That’s what Elliot liked about her.

It was always an adventure when she was around. “Her name is Thunder. She and her family treat me well.”

Patricia noticed the slight smile on Elliot's face as he answered his request for a drink and she couldn't help be grin along with him. It was not often she had seen Elliot smile so easily; his new life must be helping him loosen up.

“I'll go get you an iced coffee, then. Be right back!” She hopped up from her chair and hurried inside to order Elliot a drink. It was quieter inside, and dimmer than the bright sunlight outside, reaffirming her decision to sit outside in stead of at a table in here. She ordered another iced coffee, dumped too much sugar and cream into it, and then returned to Elliot. “Here you go,” she said as she set the drink in front of him and took her seat once again.

“Thunder, huh? God, why do they always have such intense names? Mystery, Misery, Sorrow, Shadow....it's like, are they trying to make them grow up to be those things? Were the first vampires trying to create a depressing version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?” Patricia shook her head, her pastel hair bouncing into her face. She pushed it back with a flick of her wrist and sighed. “It's like, poor kids, right? Though I couldn't think of Shadow being anything but Shadow...but what would he have been like if he didn't grow up with that name, I wonder?” The thought played in her mind for a while as she zoned out, thinking of Shadow being someone cheerier and less inclined to hide in the shadows. She didn't like it.

“Anyway,” she snapped back to focus, again smiling brightly across to Elliot. “I'm super happy to hear that they are treating you well. Are you still in touch with Sorrow? Last time I saw you two together you looked kinda upset? At the gathering last year? What was up with that?” Patricia forged ahead, speaking the questions on her mind without considering if Elliot wanted to discuss such personal matters or not. It was never a trait of hers to avoid any topic she wanted to know about; she was inquisitive to the point of prying, yet most of the time her enthusiastic nature won people over and they shared with her despite it.

As she waited for him to answer she again picked up her pencil and started sketching on a mostly clean page of her notebook. Her eyes flicked back and forth from Elliot's sharp features to the paper, her hand at work with the beginning lines of what would soon turn into a portrait of her friend. It was nice to have a new subject to draw; though she had many times drawn Elliot when they were younger, he had changed much since the last time she had attempted to capture his visage.

While Patricia was gone, getting him an ice coffee of some sort, Elliot turned his attention to the street. Even though it was midmorning, the streets seem quite. A few people here and there strolled down the promenade, leisurely going into a shop as they pleased. Also, cars rolled past in all shape, size and color, but still it was quite, like the eve of winter approaching quite. Elliot could not help but reveled in it. It was just a reflex, but when Patricia returned, he got to his feet and pulled out the chair for her. It was a small gesture of gratitude.

“Thank you, Patricia,” he said not returning to his own chair, until Patricia took hers. The ice coffee or whatever it was caught in his throat. All he tasted was sugar. Specs of sugar shards stuck to the top and sides of the cup, refusing to dissolve no matter how much he stirred. He took another sip out of politeness, and reiterating his thanks to her.

As Patricia reflected on the Graces’ namesake, so did he. It wasn’t the first time Elliot pondered the origin of their names and he came to one conclusion. Each and every Grace name suited the person in ways that others, except other vampires and Donors, would not expect. Sorrow did not willow in self-pity, of course not. In fact, Sorrow had so much love to give it open his heart up to the pain that only love can cause. Misery is fun loving and free. That is why she is beloved by so many. Being loved comes at a cost, others worries about her constantly. Misery knows it and carries that burden on her shoulders. Elliot would never voice these thoughts, because it was not his place, but it pleased him non the less to think about his family, especially Thunder.

Elliot could not help himself, but smile thinking about Thunder. Ironically, Thunder was afraid of thunder. It was nothing to laugh at. Elliot spend many of nights consoling Thunder when the storms hit, telling her fantastic stories of far off lands to keep her mind off from dwelling on the lightning and thunder raging on outside her bedroom windows, but even Thunder after the fact laughed at her own fears. She was such an amazing girl.

It wasn’t until Sorrow’s name was brought up again, that his full attention was on Patricia. She had a knack for taking Elliot by surprise with her straight forward questions. She took a needle and popped a balloon right behind him or so it felt like, as Elliot tried to come up with an appropriate response to her question. “Sorrow-“ It still caught Elliot off guard saying Sorrow’s true name, instead of his fondness for calling him Master Grace. It felt foreign to him, but ever since they talk after the festival, Elliot no longer held him up on that particular pedestal. “Sorrow and I-“ A knot in his throat formed making it hard to swallow, let alone speak.  Elliot was a private person. It was hard for him to talk about certain topics, especially the ones he regarded as precious to him. Instead of dwelling on the ‘we,’ which was too hard to speak of at the moment, he dwelled on the ‘I.’ “I was having difficulties in the transition phase.”

The afternoon was wearing on around them and Patricia could feel the sun turning her pale skin into a warmer tone by the slightest of increments. The cherry lipstick made imprints of her lips as she took another sip of her coffee and listened to Elliot fumble his way through his words. She noted the way he had trouble speaking of Sorrow and equated it with the feeling of loss he must have suffered when he had to leave the manor. She looked up from her drawing at Elliot with a sympathetic expression. “I bet! I can't even imagine not being Shadow's donor anymore. If someone came and tried to tell me that I had to leave him I would tell them they were crazy and there was no way that was going to be happening!”  

She would fight tooth and claw in order to stay with Shadow; no one was going to tell her who she could and could not spend her time with. He was more than her best friend, he was the one person in the world she could tell everything, the one person with whom she felt completely at ease. Her and Shadow had grown up together and watched each other change, yet instead of drifting apart as they became two very different people, they became even closer. If one day one of the Grace's, in their firm and deadly voices, told her to leave Shadow, well, she would have something to say about that. They belonged together, and Patrica was not one to let things that she cared about just leave her life the way Elliot had let happen.

“Are you good now, though? You said you like being with Thunder; obviously because oh my gosh adorable little girl – but do you miss Sorrow? Is it still, what'd you say? Hard to transition?” Sometimes, quite often actually, Patricia did not know when to leave a topic alone. She pressed on, continuing to prompt Elliot with questions that he was obviously having a hard time answering. While she was not delicate with her words, she tried not to speak or act in a way that would make her friend think she was being anything but interested in his life. She was enjoying the afternoon and their reunion too much to have him start thinking she was being rude; she genuinely wanted to make sure Elliot was happy and living a life that was good for him. While he answered her question she kept up her drawing, now working on his eyes and making extended eye contact with him as she did, noting the way the sun shone off his irises.

“Why'd you have to leave, anyway? No one tells me anything. Lady Grace said I was too loose tongued or something. But I assure you, my tongue is just fine.” She stuck it out and laughed to demonstrate what she meant. Even though she had just asked Elliot the reason for his reassignment she was fairly certain she knew the answer already, or at least part of it. The manor may be large, but the donors crossed paths often and Patricia spent enough time with Elliot to notice how his feelings for Sorrow changed over the years. It was fascinating to watch, and Patrica was guilty of taking the long way to Shadow's room in order to stroll by the rooms Elliot and Sorrow tended to spend time in. While she could never get any real information from either of them, she built up in her mind what must be going on. Elliot, as Patrica noticed earlier, was similar in demeanor to Shadow, and thus much easier for her to read than others. His warm words when he spoke of Sorrow back then kept becoming more and more frequent, more filled with...well, something other than what their relationship was. Patricia of course routed for Elliot; she had wanted him to man up and make a move on Sorrow, but if it ever happened she did not know. All she knew was that after a while Elliot was leaving, and she could only assume it had to do with his feelings for the other vampire.

Her meeting with him today may have, in the back of her mind, an ulterior motive. She needed to know what happened: had he been forced to leave because of how he felt? It was a horrible thought that made Patricia nervous for reasons she did not yet wish to speak, for if she voiced them, even in her mind, it would give them substance and life. She was not ready for that.