Fall Into Your Sunlight.

The following night, John brought groceries over. It always baffled her how the vampires could go about eating things as they did when they were human. True, they mixed blood into most of it, but still. It was kind of pointless in her mind. Not to mention, disgusting. On more than one occasion, she had watched, moderately disturbed, as John emptied half the contents of a blood bag into either his beer or his coffee. Garrett had caught on the first time she twitched and hadn't since openly done as John did.

As he walked in the door he was greeted by an earful of Evie's horrible singing and Garrett's laughter. How the fuck was that kid already here? Garrett had been unconscious when he left for the store. John grumbled to himself as he rummaged through the bags to put everything away.

"Oh take these storms away, start a brand new story. I make it through each day singin' 'death or glory'. The Lord won't answer me, I won't let it bring me down."

John froze. That was a song he hadn't heard in a while. Quite a few years. He raised a brow, and poked his head back into the living room. "You listen to Lostprophets?"

"Fuck yes." She replied, emphatically, throwing something at him from the couch. He caught it easily and stared at it a moment before realizing what it was. Her iPod. Scrolling through it, his attention was stuck on the full on diversity of her musical taste. It ranged from the comfortable, to bands he had never heard of. As he scrolled, the sound of laughter tickled his ears, but he refused to look up to acknowledge it. She and Garrett were getting along just swimmingly. Still, his interest was peaked by her taste in music genres. She seemed to have everything on the little device and after five minutes of manhandling it, he still wasn't finished. Her music library was entirely too massive. And he thought his was huge.

"You listen to all of this?" He asked, awestruck.

"Yerp." She replied, propping her feet up on the arm of the couch she was stretched across. She was leaning on Garrett who had an Xbox controller in his hands. Evie had a book in her lap, but wasn't reading it, her attention mostly on the tv, watching as Garrett played Resident Evil 5.

"Top five bands?"

"Dude, don't even ask me that shit." She replied, with a shake of her head, her red-blond hair falling slightly from it's tie and into her face. "I couldn't tell you. It's whatever suits my mood on any given day." She absently brushed the errant strands back, her eyes returning to the tv. "Although, I do have a bit of a thing for alternative rock."

Twenty minutes later found John on the floor in front of the couch, watching Garrett play video games and openly mocking Evie's lack of vocal ability. It wasn't that she wasn't good, she just didn't put much soul into it. And her voice cracked horribly. She cuffed him on the shoulder a few times, but mostly laughed along with him as she had accepted her own flaw and had openly mocked herself before.

Garrett kept stealing looks at her, subtle glances that John noticed. The boy's gaze was soft and there was always an affectionate look on his face that startled John. He hadn't seen that look in years, not since Rachel. This girl had certainly had an effect on him, that was clear.

The moment that he realized he hadn't eaten yet, he threw his head back. "Hey Eve, Gare, I'll be back later." He groaned. He didn't exactly want to leave but staying meant he might put both his and Evie's lives in jeopardy. He had heard her account of what happened in Dallas and as far as any of them knew, the vampire who bit her had died. He wasn't keen on being that unlucky.

As soon as John was out the door, Evie sat up, head tilting sideways. "Is it raining?" She asked, mischief sparking to her eyes. Garrett blinked, and then followed after her as she tripped toward the back door. Her legs had been propped up for so long, she had lost feeling in them, thus she couldn't walk correctly.

It wasn't just raining. It was pouring. There wasn't a star in sight for miles. Evie's grin only widened as she unlocked the door and stepped outside into the rain. It felt good in contrast to the muggy heat outside. Garrett stood in the doorway, cautious.

"What are you doing, Evie?" He questioned, as she stepped further out into the backyard and tipping her head backwards so she was staring up at the sky. She only laughed in response, shaking her head, water flicking from her hair.

"Are you coming?"

"What?" He sounded startled.

"I used to do this as a kid. Come on." She held her arms out and began to spin, her bare feet twisting in the grass and puddles that the rain was making in the dirt. He stepped into the rain, but his gaze was questioning, confused. She only grinned and spun faster. "You have to spin!" She cried.

Garrett had never seen her more childish in his life. She was laughing and her ebullient mood was beginning to grow infectious. Still, he didn't understand what it was she was doing. Finally, she stopped. "Gare. You have to spin or you won't get it even if I explain it to you." He mulled over that a moment, debating why it was so important.

She started spinning again, faster this time, rain flicking off her fingers in quick spurts, and finally, he followed suit. She spun faster until she felt helpless, lost in the rushing of blood to her limbs and the dizzy feeling of having her sight blurred, not by tears but by the spinning. Gravity felt like it was they only thing keeping her on the ground and even then, it wasn't much. Her stomach fell; and a moment later, she toppled, laughing into the grass.

Garrett didn't fall, but he stumbled toward her, dizzy. "What was that about?"

"Did you feel it?" Evie asked, curious as he dropped beside her. They were both soaking wet by now, and neither cared, and for a moment, they had forgotten what it was that had made them different. Forgotten about the state of the world around them; for a moment, it was just them.

"What? Feel my stomach drop?" Of course he wouldn't say his heart throb; his heart wasn't technically beating. "And the dizziness?"

"Yes, that." She said, triumphant. "As a kid I always imagined that's what love would feel like. It's silly, but every so often I'll do it just to remind myself of what it was like to not have to care; what it was like to dream."

Garrett stared at her a moment, words sparking to his tongue but refusing to ignite. If that was honestly what she had imagined love had felt like, then it was exactly what he felt when he saw her, when he watched her sleep, when she laughed. He bit his lip, his fangs digging into the flesh as he sat up. He couldn't think straight at the moment and he was still dizzy, but at the same time there had never been a more perfect moment of clarity to him.

Evie watched him carefully, wondering what it was that he was thinking, her kaleidoscope eyes flickering curiously over his features. Normally, the sight of fangs would have made her chest lurch with fear. Now her heart was leaping for very different reasons and it was startling to discover. Hadn't she said recently that she wasn't going to put herself in the middle of a battle of egos? So why was she already choosing a side? That wasn't fair. [Then again, neither was life.]

"Evie." He started, as she stood. They were both soaking wet, and neither one gave a flying fuck. Self-discovery seemed more important anyway.

"Garrett." She teased, watching him rise to his feet. He took a step toward her, so they stood only a few inches apart and, looking into her eyes, he leaned down. His mouth captured hers and her knees lost their strength, began to give beneath her. His arm around her waist eased that and a moment later, he broke away.

"I--"

"Don't you dare apologize to me." She gasped, breathless. And then his mouth was back on hers, his tongue brushing across her lower lip. She let him in eagerly, the taste of his tongue addictive enough to let him do as he pleased. He tasted like rainwater in July and honey and she couldn't quite get enough.

Moments that felt like hours later, they broke away, a smile quirking on Evie's lips at the same time it made an appearance on Garrett's face. "C'mon, let's get out of these wet clothes." He suggested, tugging her back inside. She followed without question, wringing her shirt out under the awning before she stepped back into her home.

"Garrett. You don't have any other clothes here." She realized. He only grinned.

"That's what you think." I brought a change in case I ended up crashing here at any point this week."

"Ah, they lengths we go to to avoid the Walk of Shame." Evie replied, as she reached her room. When she tugged off her shirt, Garrett noticed several neat, round scars on her arm and torso. Perplexed as to what might have caused them, his mind absently traced one as Evie bent to remove her shorts from around her ankles. It was then that he realized why she had said she was gun-shy. She had been shot. He knew better than to pry; she would come around on her own. Still, the sight of those scars made his blood boil slightly.

A few quick seconds later, and Evie was in dry clothing and was tossing her wet ones into the tub. Throwing them into the dryer would wait until daylight, when she wouldn't forget that she'd thrown stuff in there.

"So." She began. "More zombie slaying?" Garrett ran a hand through his hair before he tackled her to the bed. He had stripped down to his boxers, and hadn't really given much thought to changing into something else. True, his clothes were on her dresser (he had grown accustomed to sleeping in her room in particular when he was here, therefore, that had been the most logical place for him to put them), he was just too lazy to get them.

Evie was giggling ferociously as his fingers drove into her sides, tickling her and when he finally stopped, she was breathless and ebullient. He had never been quite so enamored with someone so different, even though the word now carried with it more weight than it had when he was human. He was a vampire; part of the general majority of the planet; Evie was something rare. A human that couldn't be hunted, that was forbidden to be harmed. She was also one of the deepest creatures he knew. Their conversations, though fairly shallow, had also opened doors for him to peer into, if he read her wordings properly. She was different; she was the girl that should have been unattainable.

Maybe she still was. A great part of her still felt like it was being withheld. He wanted to know all of her; to know every detail. Musically, he already knew she was an encyclopedia. Artistically, she was a phenom. Emotionally, she was untapped. Historically, she had locks there still. Hopefully, he had a key.