Lost Souls
Two.
“Are you okay?” he repeated.
For a second, panic overtook me. Did he know who I was?
I straightened and nodded slowly. I didn’t trust myself to speak but he gave no sense of suspicion.
Or recognition.
I hated the pang in my heart; the disappointment of him not knowing me.
I’m being stupid of course.
Why should he? It’s not like I was anything special to him.
It’s not like I was special.
“Great, now, would you like to dance?” he asked.
“No thank you,” I said stiffly and side-stepped. I watched him shrug and walk away.
I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath but I was, and when he was a good distance away, I let it loose.
Christophe swept me into a waltz suddenly and I felt myself ease into the dance. He murmured in my ear. "I've never seen you so riled up before. You know him?"
Instantly my eyes flew to where Damon was, flirting with Crystal. Jealousy overcame me, of course he would talk to her…she was beautiful. My anger flared, but I knew it was irrational of me. I looked at Christophe and shook my head. "Sorry, no, I don't."
"Bullshit," he whispered.
My lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Maybe."
I sighed, feeling weary all of a sudden. I looked straight into Christophe’s dark eyes.
“What’s wrong chérie?” he asked. The two of us stopped in the middle of the floor, embraced. My cheek rested against his chest and I just shook my head.
Emotions swirled in me and I couldn’t face it.
I knew that if I said what was wrong, my cool demeanor would shatter, and I would cry.
“I think,” I started and swallowed, “that I just want to go home.”
He looked at me, as if trying to figure out something and then just nodded. “One of my drivers can take you.”
The moonlight shone as Christophe took me outside. Before I went in the car I looked at him and then took off the mask.
I glanced at the beautiful mask once more before I let it drop.
The shattering of the porcelain was the last thing I heard before leaving.
I curled up on my couch, staring at the TV screen.
I hadn’t been paying attention to the movie for a while now.
Thoughts consumed me.
Was I in shock?
Four knocks on the door.
It snapped me from the trance I was in.
Sighing, I got off the couch. My bare feet touched the cool floor as I made my way to the door. Not bothering with seeing who it was, I opened the door.
Stephen Salvatore’s face greeted me. His smile was pained.
I hugged him. No matter what a shocker it was to see Damon, Stephen was a different story altogether. He helped me through it all; he was my friend. We kept tabs on each other and I was always genuinely pleased to see him.
I knew why he was here, even though he didn’t know I knew, but it didn’t stop me from being happy at his sight. If anything, I needed him, my friend who understood everything,
He understood me.
“I have to tell you something,” he said softly into my ear. I broke off from our hug and stepped to the side to let him in. “Damon is in New York.”
I blew out and tied up my hair quickly. Plopping down on the couch, I flaked out the rest of the blue nail polish on my fingernails. “Thanks for the warning.” I looked at him. “But it’s a little late.”
For a second, panic overtook me. Did he know who I was?
I straightened and nodded slowly. I didn’t trust myself to speak but he gave no sense of suspicion.
Or recognition.
I hated the pang in my heart; the disappointment of him not knowing me.
I’m being stupid of course.
Why should he? It’s not like I was anything special to him.
It’s not like I was special.
“Great, now, would you like to dance?” he asked.
“No thank you,” I said stiffly and side-stepped. I watched him shrug and walk away.
I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath but I was, and when he was a good distance away, I let it loose.
Christophe swept me into a waltz suddenly and I felt myself ease into the dance. He murmured in my ear. "I've never seen you so riled up before. You know him?"
Instantly my eyes flew to where Damon was, flirting with Crystal. Jealousy overcame me, of course he would talk to her…she was beautiful. My anger flared, but I knew it was irrational of me. I looked at Christophe and shook my head. "Sorry, no, I don't."
"Bullshit," he whispered.
My lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Maybe."
I sighed, feeling weary all of a sudden. I looked straight into Christophe’s dark eyes.
“What’s wrong chérie?” he asked. The two of us stopped in the middle of the floor, embraced. My cheek rested against his chest and I just shook my head.
Emotions swirled in me and I couldn’t face it.
I knew that if I said what was wrong, my cool demeanor would shatter, and I would cry.
“I think,” I started and swallowed, “that I just want to go home.”
He looked at me, as if trying to figure out something and then just nodded. “One of my drivers can take you.”
The moonlight shone as Christophe took me outside. Before I went in the car I looked at him and then took off the mask.
I glanced at the beautiful mask once more before I let it drop.
The shattering of the porcelain was the last thing I heard before leaving.
I curled up on my couch, staring at the TV screen.
I hadn’t been paying attention to the movie for a while now.
Thoughts consumed me.
Was I in shock?
Four knocks on the door.
It snapped me from the trance I was in.
Sighing, I got off the couch. My bare feet touched the cool floor as I made my way to the door. Not bothering with seeing who it was, I opened the door.
Stephen Salvatore’s face greeted me. His smile was pained.
I hugged him. No matter what a shocker it was to see Damon, Stephen was a different story altogether. He helped me through it all; he was my friend. We kept tabs on each other and I was always genuinely pleased to see him.
I knew why he was here, even though he didn’t know I knew, but it didn’t stop me from being happy at his sight. If anything, I needed him, my friend who understood everything,
He understood me.
“I have to tell you something,” he said softly into my ear. I broke off from our hug and stepped to the side to let him in. “Damon is in New York.”
I blew out and tied up my hair quickly. Plopping down on the couch, I flaked out the rest of the blue nail polish on my fingernails. “Thanks for the warning.” I looked at him. “But it’s a little late.”