the blonde wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but the warmth in his voice and the way his presence seemed to envelop her caught her off guard. she was used to men looking at her with interest, sure, but this was different. bill wasn’t just looking at her—he was looking into her, like he was trying to see past the walls she’d carefully built over the years. it was unsettling, but not in the way she’d expected. when his hand settled gently at the small of her back, she tensed at first, instinct telling her to pull away. but then his words came, soft and deliberate, each one carrying a weight that made her chest tighten. she wanted to tell herself it was the cold air, or the way the firelight danced against his face, but she knew better. something about him made her feel like she was teetering on the edge of something she couldn’t name—danger, curiosity, maybe even comfort.
his question about her telepathy hit her like a stone skipping across water, breaking the fragile calm she’d been trying to hold onto. she hesitated, glancing toward the bonfire where the festival crowd had gathered. she could feel the edges of their thoughts, like faint whispers carried on the wind. she’d gotten better at tuning them out over the years, but the sheer number of people here made it harder to keep her guard up. “sometimes,” she admitted quietly, her voice softer than she intended. “it doesn’t hurt, exactly, but it’s… exhausting. like standing in the middle of a room where everyone’s talking at once and trying to pick out a single voice.” she paused, her gaze flickering back to him, wondering how much to say. “but i’ve learned how to block most of it out. otherwise, i’d never have made it this far.” his question felt genuine, not like idle curiosity or pity, and that made it harder for her to brush it off.
"with you i hear nothing. it's... quiet. it's nice. i don't have to guess what you're saying or try to find out if you're telling me the truth. i can just... trust you." there was something disarming about the way he looked at her, like he wasn’t just hearing her words but understanding what they meant. when he tilted her chin to meet his gaze, her breath caught in her throat. she didn’t flinch, though she probably should have. it wasn’t just the gesture that threw her off—it was the way he made the world seem smaller, quieter, like everything else had faded into the background.
his words lingered in the air between them, heavy with meaning. she felt the pull of them, of him, and it scared her. but it also made her feel seen in a way she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before. “maybe you're right,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper, “but you’re still a mystery to me, bill compton.” she held his gaze for a moment longer before letting herself look away, her cheeks warming under the flicker of the firelight. she wasn’t sure if it was his presence, the heat of the flames, or the way her heart raced whenever he got too close. all she knew was that, for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel entirely alone. and that, more than anything, scared her the most. "tell me more about you... i know you've probably told your story dozens of times to different people but... i want to get to know you. truly know you."
he takes great solace in the fact that he could provide a safe quiet space for her mind to rest , the added mental exhaustion of being able to hear everyone's thoughts all the time .. all at once - while still having to maintain life actively must be anguish. although he didn't have the same experience as sookie - he's no stranger to anguish. he gives a simple nod , staring into her brilliant eyes with a soft compassion emulated within. ❛ i must say that i am both empathetic to your plight while also reserving a bit selfishness that i can provide somewhat of quiet and safe space for your own thoughts. ❜ his voice is smooth , perhaps softer within his admission. he could sense there was apprehension that almost makes it difficult to divulge herself to him , something he hopes to mend in the near future.
her request lingers in on the forthright of his cognize , nearly two hundred years of walking this earth collected in his brain like small movies that sometimes he fondly plays in repeat. perhaps that might the only reason he'd wish for her to hear his thoughts , so he could actively play the little home movies he's encapsulated in his mind for decades now. a small smirk rests over his features , thinking back fondly.
❛ mm , i hail from a small town in louisiana called bon temps , for the most part a quiet town , born in 1835. i had a good life , married and had two beautiful children. sarah and thomas compton. ❜ he took a stagnant moment to read her expression , get an idea of her reaction. it was a peculiar thing to bring up on a first date , he'll admit that much , but he wanted to be open about his past. frankly , he wonders how deep into his lore she truly wished to go. ❛ they obviously have past at this point , but they were good kids , medicine was not what it is today. many died of various illnesses and diseases. my son , he died of the pox and my little girl died of cancer in 1910. ❜ he was since past the point of grieving , but still there's a pang he felt from the emptiness left behind with his family.
❛ what about you , sookie ? i'd very much like to get to know you as a person and understand how you have become who your are today. ❜
