He needed his fix. Her skin was like silk spun from the moon itself. Her smell had gotten into his bones and he ached at seeing her in the coffee house. So close and unable to touch her. It was torture. He knew every time he went to her, he was taking a risk. He still had plenty of vials, even if she did wake, he counted on the amnesia that came with the death like sleep. He knew he was playing with fire. He didn't know if he would be able to hold back from taking her much longer. That would ruin everything. He popped up to the apartment across the street from her and grabbed his bag. He peeked through the window and saw no signs of life in her place.
As he left and crossed the road, that sickening feeling hit him like a wall, he paused just a moment. What in the world was causing him to feel this way? No matter. Nothing would keep him from her. He took the stairs two and three at a time. Clinging to what he knew of her and hungering for more. He stood in front of her door for a moment and listened. He heard no noise from behind the door, so he lifted his hand and reached for the knob. Turning it to see if it was locked, he breathed in as it caught. He reached for his keys. He would not be denied tonight.
Suddenly he was on the sidewalk. Keys in hand, confusion and strangeness washed over him. How did he get here? What just happened? The overwhelming wrong feeling held his feet to the concrete like lead. He struggled to breathe. It was like the aversion you feel at the smell of dead bodies or dread at something painful. His every instinct said to turn around and go home. He couldn't think straight and squeezed the keys in his hand so hard they broke the skin of his palm. He almost felt like he wanted to heave, but he couldn't be sure why. He walked quickly back across the road and up the stairs. He needed to regroup.
Stella's breath caught in her throat as she raised up on her toes to peek through the hole. Suspecting the worst, she held her breath so as to be as quiet as possible. As she put her silvery grey eye to the little glass lens, she tried to hold back her terror.
She saw nothing. Nothing was there. She must have imagined it, maybe too many painkillers and not enough sleep. She rationalized her way to a little bit more calm. Her stomach was no longer in her chest, she breathed through the fear like an older child does after hearing the boogie man doesn't exist night after night. She pulled over a kitchen chair and wedged it under the knob and set a vase upside-down on top. She wandered to her bedroom and huddled under the covers until her sleepiness won over her fear.
The next day, she got a letter from an attorney. It said that she had an inheritance to see to. Stella had no family and knew no one who would have handed anything down to her. She called the lawyer and told him she couldn't leave during daylight hours, he said he knew of her problem. She wanted to know what the letter was about, and he merely offered to come to her the night after next. It was all rather cryptic and it was the last thing she needed in her life. More mystery. She tidied up and did a bit of knitting. She couldn't keep her hands busy enough to drown out the questions in her head. Like always, she waited for the cruel sun to set and free her from her cozy little prison.
Eventually, the night did come and she burst out of her apartment like a bird from a cage. She decided against going to Louie's. It had simply gotten too awkward. She turned the opposite way and decided to find somewhere else to go to watch people go by. Her feet and crutches pounded the pavement and left foot prints in the dusting of snow that still covered everything like a veil. She found a lively little martini bar and decided that though she doesn't usually drink, tonight would be as good as any.
She ordered an elderberry and pear-tini and sipped at it while she watched life go on around her. She got lost in the noise around her and ordered another drink. Her limbs felt warmer and her stress slowly began to fade to a dull buzz in the back of her skull. She made eye contact with a gorgeous little blonde down the bar some. She smiled a little and looked back into her glass. Suddenly, the girl was next to her, her front pressed against Stella's side. She smelled like citrus and berries.
