Fall Into Your Sunlight.

So, I discovered something recently, while wandering aimlessly around an electronics store of all places. I found a filter for my camera lens that allows me to see you. Admittedly, your kind are blurry smudges of fuzz but that's allowable/acceptable, I think, until I find a better filter. You don't know how utterly frustrating it has been to train my camera on my friends only to find no one there. Not even an outline. Mirrors, they can see themselves in, but for some reason, my cameras haven't worked until recently. This makes me entirely happy this week.

In other news, Raphael decided to "drop in" from England this week and visit. I know I haven't spoke much on my siblings and there's a reason. Family drama runs deep. That's all I'll say.

Anyway, I have three brothers, one of which is older. Two of which should be, but because of this vampire virus thing that makes them mysteriously not age, I'm older than the other two now. I was seventeen when Gabe and Michael (yes, my mother named her boys after Archangels) and Rafe were turned, and now I'm 23 (I think. Having no one to keep track, I've lost track and the ability to care.) Gabe is 19, Michael is 21 and Rafe is 25.

I'm not on speaking terms with most of my family. Rafe is the only one who gives a rats ass about me, at which point, I suppose I'm grateful for that. Then again, the two of us have always been close, in that sibling banter-y kind of obtuse dislike of one another sort of way. I like giving him a hard time about him checking up on me so much. It amuses me. Yes, I am the one with the weird sense of humor in the family.

Rafe happens to look incredibly like Ian Watkins of Lostprophets, by the way, they could seriously be dopplegangers or long lost twins. However, their accents tell them apart immediately, as well as Rafe's pitch when he talks. They're both tenors, however, Rafe has an odd mix of New York and London in his voice, whereas Ian is Welsh (god, look at me, shamelessly admitting the fangirl in me. True, it wasn't entirely fangirling that made me research this; it was Rafe's girlfriend Rhiannon. Still, shamelessly admitting to my fangirlish tendencies).

Having the older brother here in Tempe makes me miss England a lot. I hear London in his voice and I crave the chance to go back. Rafe made me leave because of the danger. I still miss Cardiff and Reading and Leeds and ugh. Just writing about these cities is giving me wanderlust. I'm happy here, I really am, but Jesus, I miss my friends across the pond. One of these days, I'm dragging the boys with me to England to show them my favorite places and people. Of course, in doing that, I'm subjecting them to the unholy terror that is Rhys. What a mess.

Anyway, I think Rafe had something planned for tonight, which, to be completely honest, scares me. Earlier we made a pulley system to transport stuff from my garden to my kitchen, which is handy, but I have a feeling we're not using it for strawberries tonight.I have been loving late night/early morning snuggles with a certain someone, however. He should know who he is.

-Eve.

She finished up her entry and then wandered from her room to discover that the boys had already started shenanigans involving her canabis plants in her garden and her kitchen window. She shook her head, and wandered her way up the stairs to the attic and through the door up there, onto the roof. She had been meaning to make that diving board anyway.

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Just as dawn began to climb the sky, Evie was climbing into bed, next to someone she wasn't exactly minding being there.

I am getting too attached. What happens when the blood runs out? Those were the last words to cross her mind before she fell asleep.