Laurent stared into deep, dark blue eyes. They were bright in their own way, seemed to glow, blurred around the edges and seemed to cast light about the face they belonged to; though when Laurent blinked the glow had gone until he resumed his staring for a few more seconds. A trick of the eye? The pupils were slits, black lines painted against the blue. The lines would dilate, the pupil widening as an intensity grew, a feeling of frustration, irritation. Laurent was lost until an equally irritated voice rang out.
“’EY! The fuck ‘re you starin’ at?!” Laurent started, jolting upright in his chair.
“D-désolé, Eli! Sorry!” He raised his hands in defense before the irritated man sitting across from him, both seated at a round kitchen table. Laurent fixed his tie as the shorter man growled in front of him, the owner of the blue eyes bearing his teeth.
“The fuck’s so interestin’ about my goddamn face, you French asshole?” Eli snarled, out of his chair and on his feet, palms flat on the table as he leaned over in an attempt at intimidation. And it worked, if only for his seniority over the other man, who lowered his head just slightly and shrunk back in his chair. Surprised by the reaction Eli let up, and Laurent gathered himself while fidgeting with his fingernails.
“S-sorry. It’s nothing, it’s, ah… Just, your eyes.” Eli’s face contorted into an odd look, clearly confused.
“My fuckin’ eyes?”
“They’re different, that’s all.” Laurent fixed the cuffs of his sleeves. “They sort of look like a cat’s eyes. Thomas, too, and… Really every other vampire I’ve met. Save for Dominic and myself.”
“Yeh, I ain’t the one that’s dif’rent, kid.” Eli plopped himself down in his chair again, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket along with a lighter. “Never seen much like ya. Y’ smell different, y’ look different, assume ya taste different too.” Eli lit his cigarette, offering a wink, and Laurent responded with a grimace. “’s funny.” He went on, “You’d never guess you was a vampire. Normal fingernails, normal eyes. Fer the most part, anyway.” Eli shrugged his shoulders. “What exactly changed in ya?”
“… Changed…” Laurent gnawed on his lower lip for a moment, thinking over the past few months. “Everything feels different…” he let out a sigh, sitting straight. “Things continue to change, really. Dominic says that’s normal…” Eli grunted.
“Well, I guess ya better start with askin’ him then, eh?”
“Nhh, Dominic is... more of a teach by experience type.” The Frenchman sighed, observing his hands. He hadn’t changed very much at all on the outside, really. He was just as he lived, if you ignored the way his eyes pierced and the points of the teeth in his smile. You’d never know what he was if you didn’t notice the puncture wounds at his neck, eternally busied. His skin was pale, apricot in hue, the bright blue of his veins running in tracks under his flesh, but easily overlooked. Grey circles under his eyes seemed like he just needed a good night’s sleep. But inside he knew how much he’d changed, like every bit of him had rearranged to form someone completely new. He felt so differently, moved in another way.
It was more than the hunger for blood. Though still blind in one eye he saw perfectly, each individual leaf on a single tree, blowing in the breeze, each its own being separate from the shrub and free to move as it wanted. The dark was no problem for him either, his eye adjusting quickly in pitch darkness, the room seeming only dimly lit. Though florescent lights were like staring into the sun for hours, they burned his eyes and brought on migraines. Every nerve in his body vibrated, hyperaware of every touch, the wind like a blanket dragged across his body. And that was just physically, he couldn’t even begin to sort out his thoughts and emotions. Dominic had been a comfort, reassuring him that with age it grew easier. Laurent would believe him instantly. Oh, Dominic, he had such an effect on Laurent, who wished he knew why. The man’s presence brought him relief, as if there was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. Laurent had absolute faith in him, trusted him unconditionally. His heart would hammer in his chest and his lips wouldn't dare not to smile. He wanted to please so badly, hoping for a smile or an approving nod, anything. Like a magnet Laurent was pulled towards him, followed him. It was a ridiculous notion to be anywhere without him, foolish to think he should leave him. Our of the question, blasphemy, to suggest he break away to live on his own, away from his sire as many other vampires had with theirs.
Laurent shook himself from his thoughts, smoke from Eli’s second cigarette winding in his lungs, and he stood. Perhaps they weren’t so different, he and Eli, aside from a few minute appearances. He would try to ask Dominic once he returned from hunting and hoped that this time his words wouldn’t die on his tongue as they so often did. “More coffee?” Eli shook his head.
“Shit tastes like charcoal.” He shoved his mug gruffly away from him, the butt of his last smoke floating about in the bitter liquid contained inside. Laurent took the cup to the sink, letting a sigh escape him. He was nearly a year old now and had yet to feed on his own. A truly pitiful vampire he made, Laurent was sure, though Dominic had never commented on it. Frustrated as he was, Dominic couldn’t bring himself to criticize him, blaming only his teaching methods. Every failure of Laurent’s was his own, no matter how many apologies Laurent would offer him.
“Of course it tastes like charcoal, everything but blood does.” He exhaled, washing the mug. “That or it’s simply because you dump your ash into every cup in the house…”
“Wash the fuckin’ dishes better, then.” Eli grunted, taking the last drag from his cigarette and snuffing it out on the newspaper that had covered the table. “’M goin’ ta eat. Hold down the fort, yeh?”
“Mmhm, try not to make a mess.” Laurent rolled his eyes as Eli left him alone with his thoughts, the house otherwise empty and silent. For a few seconds he pondered if this is what it might be like to be alone again. He didn’t like the feeling.
