* 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 ;

it was peaceful in the volturi’s vast library;  a blanket of silence covering the only two bodies occupying the space, unmoving except for the casual turning of a page every few seconds.   they had spoken to each other only a handful of times since louis had joined their coven weeks prior, but louis had found in marcus a companion nevertheless.   what a rarity it is to find someone comfortable enough to spend time together in blissful silence, to find comfort in the company of presence alone.

louis’ voice breaks the quiet some hours in, and very softly, as if he is aware the disruption it would cause.   “they don’t say her name,”  louis ponders aloud, his eyes scanning the pages of a book he is no longer interested in.   he doesn’t look up, but his attention now is not on the words he reads.   “it’s rare that i hear the name of your lost love upon the lips of your covenmates.  —  do you desire it this way, marcus?”

the chance at an answer doesn’t come quite yet, an explanation for his curiosity coming soon after,  “i always hated that.   when i lost my family, there were days when i thought i had dreamt them up, that so much time would pass without hearing the name of my wife and my daughter.   it was a hell nearly as horribly as the one i live in without them.”

@sanctism 

IT WAS NOT UNUSUAL TO FIND HIM THERE; sat by the large window, soaking up the sunlight while his crimson eyes traced the words of an ancient book or another. Marcus hardly opted to be out in the open, to socialise as if he still had it in himself to pretend to be anything but dead inside, and often, one would find that he preferred to be alone. That was not the case when it came to their newest addition to the coven. Louis had come as a kindred spirit, someone who truly knew how the felt ━ not like Aro who could see what he thought, or Chelsea who could pick apart the broken seam of his love for Didyme, but actually feel it with every cell in his being. The pain of losing the one person you loved the most; your soulmate.

He enjoyed the other's company, their comfortable silence as they both read and enjoyed a day without having to pretend. Marcus was hardly interested in the book he held between his hands, having read it a thousand times before so it wasn't hard for him to pull away from it when Louis voice broke through the silence around them. They don't say her name... Immediately he knew of whom Louis spoke, and found that it was true. Didyme's name hardly ever left the lips of the ones around him, with the rare exception of Aro and his wife, the others seemed reluctant to speak about her when he was present. Did he desire it that way? What an odd way to phrase it, for Marcus wasn't really sure he desired much of anything anymore.

❛ I suppose they do not... ❜ He began, lifting his big eyes to gaze at the hybrid in that unsettling way he usually did. Slow and void, and yet so full of a vulnerability that had no place on a being so ancient. ❛ I have never requested that they don't speak of her. Though, I suspect they do it in attempts to coddle me. ❜ There was a lilt of amusement in his voice, something so small most wouldn't be able to catch it. It was true that Marcus was quite possibly one of the oldest beings in existence, yet physically, he was but a nineteen-year-old. Being a vampire his youthful appearance was only heightened, which he figured prompted some sort of instinct in his coven mates to shield him from what they considered harmful to his already frail mind.

Yes, of that Marcus understood. To go years without hearing her name; without calling out to her, feeling her warm presence around him had been enough to make him question that too. Was she ever real? Or had he simply imagined a perfect life? A life where he'd be happy. ❛ An attempt to spare us from misery that only makes us more miserable.  ❜ He agreed. To stop talking about her, to pretend she never existed was an insult to him and his pain, and while he appreciated the effort of trying to keep him from feeling more pain there was nothing they could do to stop it. Didyme deserved to be remembered, but Marcus hardly had the strength to voice that.

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆.      He hid it well, he thought, though. The ancient creature moved closer to where he sat by the fire and Emery’s eyes shifted subtly from the fire to where the male took a seat beside him. Not entirely too close but closer than Emery may have liked. There was no escaping his beast, now. The creature lurking just beneath his skin stirred and he knew the other probably knew before he was spotted what Emery was. 

Sipping his beer, Emery sucked his teeth lightly and turned to the fire wholly again. “Yeah,” he agreed dully, “Probably not.” He sipped his beer once more. Vampires were an entirely different breed of dangerous and Emery would be stupid if he wasn’t at least mildly on guard. While vampires were difficult to kill, he knew his beast could and probably would if something went awry but as much as Emery was capable of killing a vampire–  vampires were equally as capable as killing him. It was best to be on guard, perhaps more so than he might have been with others.

There’s was a timelessness to the other’s speech. Something as intrinsically ancient and practiced. It was surreal, hearing someone so young speak in that manner. It set him further on edge. That was only part of why Emery’s heart may have been racing. He had killed on the last moon and the memories so deeply buried were surfacing in the dark of his slumber. Emery reached for the rabbit he was cooking over the fire and tested the meat before moving it to cool slightly. “I would guess,” he started slowly, “you make me nervous.” He smiled stiffly at the other and then leaned back in his chair. “But, in the same token, it’s always been fast.” He wasn’t about to admit to having some vivid and grotesque nightmares that ramp up his anxiety to a million. Not to this complete stranger; whether or not he may have understood. Emery took a sip of his beer and looked over to the other, mildly perturbed by the crimson gaze. “That how you found me? My heartbeat?”

THE OTHER'S CONFESSION WAS NO SURPRISE to the vampire king, quite the opposite really. It would have shocked him far more had the werewolf not been made nervous by his presence. ❛ I see...  ❜ he hummed, his voice barely audible against the crackling of the fire and the sounds of breathing coming from the wolf. Being so eerily quiet was another vampire trait that seemed to put other creatures and even humans at a state of constant unease; something that cannot be heard is harder to find, and perhaps this inherent nervousness came from more primitive times, a defence mechanism passed down through generations in order to always somehow protect them against his kind.

❛ I has been so long since I have been human I often forget how the body reacts to danger.  ❜  It was a mere observation, but Marcus did not fail to see how the other could perceive his words as a threat. Though not an one-sided one, for even if Marcus was ancient, he was not immune to werewolf venom. Slowly, the vampire ran a hand through his hair, bony fingers untangling the long and dark curls. An action that could be considered human, if not for the eerie smoothness of it; the strange perfection and precision in which his hands moved. ❛ Always? Perhaps a werewolf trait?  ❜ he asked just as softly as before.

At the wolf's inquiry Marcus blinked, turning his blood-red eyes to stare directly at the man. ❛ Yes. But not only that, there was also your scent, the sound and light of the fire, the smell of your food...  ❜ Marcus explained, a small smile on his usually blank expression. He still found enough humanity in him to sometimes delight in the extent of his vampiric abilities, to feel a soft echo of excitement whenever he had to test those senses. He wondered if the wolf felt the same, surely he had felt Marcus' presence too, had he not?

@sanctism·    gets a starter from emery for liking   🇹·🇭·🇮·🇸· 🇵·🇴·🇸·🇹·..

𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐃.      not because the beast had been quiet or because he hadn’t done anything particularly terrible–  it wasn’t and he had. but something about this particular nightmarish vision struck emery colder than some other; a deep bone cold where he thought for sure he would never feel this cold again. not even if he was stark naked in the artic ocean incased in an iceberg. it wasn’t a cold as much as it was a terror. a realization so sudden and so haunting he knew it would be a life altering event. after this–  nothing would be the same. he was exposed to the elements, like a raw nerve on the brink of a torch, he could feel his body twitching under his skin; writhing and trembling as he sensed the other near. he didn’t need his heightened smell to know the other was old and he didn’t need his heightened hearing to know they were quiet as death. no. like him this being was primordial. something struck up from the depths of mysticism and predatory. a vampire.

sitting quietly beside him campfire, emery remained still and quiet as the other neared him. how far back did their species rival one another? from one monster to the other, how long has they warred against one another for dominance? even to this day there was that deep instilled mistrust but for emery, it had less to do with what they were and more to do with his general disposition on people. “i’d offer you a beer,” he drawled lazily, head turned slightly to carry towards the other, “but you don’t strike me as a beer kinda guy.”

MARCUS OFTEN LIKED TO WALK AROUND, to wander through forests and to watch as they endured the ruthless passing of time with a might he had long since lost. Nothing made him feel the pleasure of being alive, the elation of being immortal for he had nothing to live for. It was unusual for people to be out that late at night, not that Marcus was too worried, for not even the creatures that roamed the darkness would dare approach him. He had asked once, why did most newborns seemed to avoid him and Jane, sweet and painfully young Jane, had replied that he felt wrong; dangerous, too ancient even for immortals.

So when he heard an erratic heartbeat, he found himself growing curious. Slowly he made his way to where the sound was, now able to catch the person's scent. A werewolf. Sitting next to him was perhaps  risky choice, but Marcus hardly had anything to lose. ❛ I have never had one...  ❜ He admitted when the other offered him a beer, his monotone voice awfully young in the dead of night. No one who heard him, not saw him would say he was more than 3000 years old. ❛ So, I suppose I am not. ❜ Slowly, Marcus turned his eyes to stare at the man, crimson of his irises highlighted oddly by the fire.