{ better to kill you with, my dear }

Heather stood up in shock. As much as Demetri did deserve her antagonism, she felt bad for bringing this up. “Sorry,” was all that she could say, being bad at easy conversations let along touchy ones. He didn’t seem still too torn up about it, their deaths having happened a long time ago, but Heather knew what it was like to lose a parent. And in her mind it was more fresh, though ever so slowly numbing. She felt the first stab of sympathy she ever had for Demetri, and she was not a fan.

While Demetri was able to adjust tone quickly enough, Heather was still processing what was frankly some of the first real information she had gotten about Demetri. She wanted to push for details, but he was already moving on and she didn’t want to risk him asking about her parents. “I don’t think you could afford my lessons. And I charge a special surcharge for people I don’t want to teach.”

“No big deal. You didn’t know.” He said, shrugging as he glanced down at the water. His lips formed a frown, as if he was thinking about his parents again. The Darklighter had years and years of practice when it came to faking emotions. He even knew how to cry. Although, now was not the time for that. He pressed his lips together into a thin line and then glanced off into the distance for a moment. “And besides, it was a long time ago. No need to dwell on the past when you can’t do anything to change it.” 

He cracked a smile as his eyes flickered back towards her. “I think you’d be surprised at how much I can actually afford.” He said to her before his lips turned into a frown again. Although, this frown was clearly fake as he practically pouted at her. “Oh come on, I’d be the perfect student. No complaining and I’d do everything you’d say.”

          “I’m not blaming him for doing his job,” she shrugged and looked back at the guard. It was a communication problem which wasn’t his fault nor her own. She was just thankful that someone came to her rescue. “Oh who the heck knows. I can’t read this handwriting.” The warlock handed the piece of paper out to him. “It’s the, uh, manager.” 

The darklighter shrugged his shoulders and chose not to comment. In his mind, blame didn’t matter. But then again, he rarely cared enough to dwell on the concept. Demitri took the piece of paper from her and furrowed his own eyebrows. She was right, the handwriting was horrendous. “Hopefully the information that was given to you was correct.” He said as he held the piece of paper out towards her. “It would be unfortunate if you came here for nothing.” 

Beatrice looked up at him, squinting to try and keep the blood from getting into her eye. She didn’t recognize him, but there were a lot of people she didn’t recognize in town and he was trying to help and her head kind of hurt, so she decided not to dwell on it and trust him. “Uhm, maybe a bit of a headache, but no dizziness or anything like that.” She took the offered scrap of his shirt, grateful for the fabric to clean up with, but mourning the loss of his shirt. She’d have to pay him back. Hopefully it wasn’t a designer shirt. “Oh, uh, thank you.” She said, starting with the blood the blood at her jaw and working her way up. “Sorry about your shirt.”

“No dizziness is good. But that doesn’t mean it won’t hit you later.” Demitri muttered as he let go of the cloth and watched as she began cleaning up the blood. “No problem.” He offered her a smile as he stood back slightly. “Oh, this old thing?” He chuckled as he glanced down at his torn shirt. “Not to worry. I have several of them in my closet. I keep them stocked up just in case I encounter any injured people.” He said in a joking manner. 

@darklighterxdemitri​

It was late at night and Bridgette was trying to leave from a bar that she’d gone to after a long day at work. She slammed her car door shut after she got out of it, swearing profusely under her breath. She put her hands on her hips and frowned as she stared down at it. She’d tried numerous times to get it to start, but the engine refused to turn. She let out a huff and looked around to see if anyone had a flashlight or cables to help jump her car since she was sure it was because her car battery had died. And, on top of that, her phone had died since she’d forgotten to charge it earlier in the day. She always hated to ask for help, but it looked like it was what she needed to do.

Demitri had heard the cursing before he realized who it was, or even what was happening. He moved towards the woman, his hands pushing themselves into his pockets as he did so. “What seems to be the problem?” He asked, as if he could help her. Maybe you can. He thought to himself as he waited for her to answer.

          Sure she looked sketchy, but when didn’t she? Madison had always ended up in situations where she looked a little out of place. When she was in her painting phase, she couldn’t count the amount of times that she ended up with red paint everywhere. She knew taking photos of a building before trying to get inside was probably… one of the worst situations to be in. “Thank you,” Madison smiled at the man. She walked past the security guard when he opened the door and gave him a look. “I was afraid by the time he’d let me in, I’d be late for my appointment. Which kind of defeats the purpose of being early.” 

“Of course.” Demitri offered her a genuine smile as he kept the door open for her. “Well he should mind his own business, honestly. If you have an appointment here, then there’s no reason for him to not let you inside.” Demitri followed her inside. He didn’t have any reason to be there, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pretend. “So who are you here to meet?”

A little? Valerie thought. She had the sense that wasn’t exactly the case. But does it matter? Valerie smirked finishing her little solo, and glanced down at his hands who were already making themselves comfortable around her waist. Lifting her eyes to meet his face again, the shifter answered, “Let’s just say I was one of those girls who was holding pompoms at football games and in many jazz talent shows.”

Still swaying her hips to the music, Valerie turned around with her back against him and lifted her hands up to wrap them around his neck. “What about you stranger? What’s it going to take to get a name?”

“I have a feeling that it’s more than that.” Demitri chuckled as he moved her hands down to her hips, swaying with her. “It’s going to take a little more than dancing for me to get my name.” He smirked as he lowered his head until his lips were next to her ear. “Prove to me that you can keep my attention and then I’ll give it to you.” 

She frowned as she seriously considered him. She decided to believe that he wasn’t trying to flirt, but he still up to something else. Heather found it hard to believe that someone would keep going out of their way like this to be friends with her.  And she sure didn’t want him to think that she was trying to flirt with him. “Okay, I believe you. Sorry for being presumptuous.”

 “Well, then what did your parents teach you?” Heather smirked and leaned forward, hands on her knees. “Oh no, only the first tip is free. I’m always happy to judge for free, though.”

“It’s fine.” Demitri waved it off and then smiled. “I forgive you.” He waded in the water as she continued to speak. He wasn’t necessarily one to speak about his past. Mostly because he didn’t know what his human past was. He had no memories of it. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t make it up to get close to people. Pretend to share bits and pieces of him to others. 

“Ah...” Demitri paused, pretending that what he was about to say was taking a lot from him. “They um... Didn’t, really. They weren’t around. Died when I was young.” He shrugged his shoulders, a somber look spreading across his face for a brief moment. The story that he was making up could be true but he’d never know. “Of course it’s not.” He smirked and then glanced towards her again. “How much for more tips from the wise swimming instructor?” 

Heather repeated herself: “Avoiding a situation that you are certain will be uncomfortable is not weakness.” Okay that may be fear by definition, but it was totally justified. “Have you considered that the reason I don’t want to get in the water is less an aversion to cold or fun and more because of who is in it?” She loved swimming and was almost always down for it. “And yet there you are.”

Heather snorted. She couldn’t believe he was now playing dumb. She knew that she was terrible at reading signals, but this guy was not subtle at…whatever game he was playing. “Come on, don’t act stupid. But do take a hint; I’m not interested.” And now he was explaining how being warm blooded worked as if every kid didn’t learn that. She glared as he swan in a circle. “Your form could use some work. You are creating unnecessary lift because of how your hands are hitting the water. But, that expended energy is at least going to heating you up.”

He treaded water and let out a sigh. Clearly, he’d have to work another angle if he was going to get close to Heather. It might be more work, but he wasn’t just going to quit. “I’m not going to do anything if that’s what you’re getting at.” And he wouldn’t. He played the long game -- always. 

“Heather, seriously. If I was genuinely flirting with you, you’d know. It wouldn’t be some hidden message.” He said sternly as his eyes averted upwards to meet hers. “My form?” He asked as he paused his swimming, a snort coming from his mouth. “Well I do apologize, swimming instructor, for I did not have parents that taught me how to swim.” He leaned his head back in the water, getting his hair wet, before lifting back up and glancing at her. “Does this mean you’re about to lecture me on how to swim correctly?”

Valerie watched the stranger with curious eyes and chuckled as he made their way towards the dance floor. Not a stranger Val, look closely. Her eyes searched his face knowing he seemed familiar and when she caught his smirk, it all came back to her. Sure the woman had gotten drunk that birthday weekend, but she hadn’t been drunk when she first saw him. Not that any of that mattered now-the shifter didn’t even know his name.

“Bossy now aren’t we?” Smirking, Valerie twirled wide enough to give her some dancing room and winked at a few other women and men who gave her space to drop down to the beat. Turning back around, her eyes caught the strangers again and winked. The shifter would let him have this one dance for two reasons: she came to dance and because Valerie knew how to put on a show. You’re not that person anymore Val. Ignoring the thoughts, the woman started to dance in sync with the music.

“A little.” Demitri said with a smile as he watched her twirl to try to give herself some space. He folded his arms across his chest as he watched her. A chuckle escaped his lips as she winked at him but he said nothing as she began dancing. Out of all of his years of watching people dance, this woman definitely knew more than most. She wasn’t necessarily in his top ten that he had seen, but it was enough to impress him a little. And that rarely happened. “Where’d you learn how to dance like that?” He asked as he moved forward, quickly wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her towards him. If she was going to dance, it was going to be as close to him as possible. 

Valerie needed a night off. From both her waitress job at Lake House Bar & Grille and her freelance makeup artist on the side. So the shifter thought of what better way to do that then having some fun at the club with a few drinks and a little purple dress.

Standing by a high table, Val twirled her finger on the edges of her drink and turned to look at the stranger. She had seen him before but the woman just couldn’t quite remember where yet. “That….and a little more.” The woman said, giving him a playful wink and smirking seeing his eyes wonder about. Her’s on the other hand, turned back to the dance floor as the music changed.

“A little more?” Demitri asked, a chuckle escaping his lips as he moved towards her. He recognized her. She had been at the party the other night. The girl that had actually caught his eye. Other than Heather, that was. But what he was doing with Heather was a little different, in his eyes. He wasn’t just trying to get close to her -- he was also trying to cause so much terror in her world that she begged for him to put her out of her misery. 

This, with the girl in front of him, would simply be fun. He watched as she placed a hand on his and then turned towards the dance floor. He smirked and walked towards where the dancing was happening, tugging her along until they were in the center of it. “Dance for me.”