#flashandthunderfire

will we need to quote passages for lit? she wonders. what about history? we won't really need to name which great authors were also monsters, right? demon civil rights, what about those? what was the name of that one, the demon who...

all the while, clare taps her pencil on morty's hood. sitting on a hearse parked in the ruins of an abandoned church (more facade than anything now) isn't the ideal study area for most, but it's nice here and the sun's down. that, of course, makes it a bit difficult for her to see her textbooks...but she's gotten used to it; besides, this is sort of what she was made for, seeing in the dark.

after a few moments, she begins to nibble on her pencil's eraser. it helps her think, or at least helps her clam down. call it a bad habit. at least it's not an uncommon one. her mom said she did that too, when she was a girl, and so did darcy.

must be a ghoul thing.

"clare. hey, clare." eli's half laying across his hearse, less studying literature and more studying her.

that she doesn't know if she'll ever get used to. it's sweet, though. he's sweet. "huh? what?"

his tell-tale smirk that he's so desperately trying to hold back tells her before his words do. "you've gone through another one."

lo and behold, the eraser's completely chewed down. she can do little more than sigh and set it aside. she ruins more pencils this way. "guess i'm just a little nervous."

"oh, i had no idea." to eli's credit, he stops there and merely grins, a dry chuckle catching in his throat. "c'mon. you're gonna do fine. take a break. relax a little."

any protests that clare tries to think up fade as he scoots a bit closer to her and cups her cheek with his right hand, using his left to support his weight. she can't fight the smile from coming to her face, nor can she stop bubbling happiness rising in her like a burst of fresh a-positive.

"you're great at this. all of it. don't worry so much."

when they first started going out, clare had asked him if all vampires are so good at smooth-talking of if it's just him. he'd replied that that's a gross exaggeration and a stereotype; and yes, he's just that good. she'd almost bit through to his veins as a comeback later, of course. that wonder starts again. she doesn't really care.

her hand (fingernails dipped black, since he's wearing her trademark denim) curls about his and she holds it just a bit closer to her mouth, kissing his fingers with a shy smile. his eyesight's better than hers in the dark so she knows he can likely see her blushing. maybe she shouldn't have eaten such a large meal earlier; it wouldn't be so visible then.

all the while, she's...thinking. a bit about the coming tests, a bit about the current moment, a bit about the coming...everything else. they've been through some rough waters together, her and eli. and there's those murders that everyone's trying to pin on someone in their school... her mom and step-dad talking about picking up and finding somewhere new to live, however impractical that would be. what other monster-friendly cities are there? what other monster-friendly schools? places where a morgue still has open employment? besides, wouldn't them leaving send a message to hunters, saying that they are guilty, no matter how little other evidence is stacked against them?

she'd rather stay here, since they've got nothing to hide, and since she likes it here so much, and since she's got so many friends and eli, but what if someone at degrassi did revert back to more primal instincts, what would happen if they were all sentenced because of it? would they fight? she wouldn't want to fight. but what other choice would they--

"clare-- clare, ow!" she's drifted again, and it takes her a moment, as she tastes tangy o-negative on her tongue, eli's late snack, to realize just what'd happened.

eli's middle finger, which had been closest to her mouth, had slipped into it, as it has in the past, as he's fine with, but ghouls have to be attentive when something's in their mouths or else, well. the tip to the first knuckle's been stripped clear of skin, with just a bit of knuckle showing. did she take the fingernail too? oh dear, this always happens.

with a gasp she drops his hand from her face. "eli! oh my gosh, i am so, so sorry! here, i've got a band-aid in my bag, uh, no that's not big enough, some gauze? where is it, where--"

though they come prepared for this, eli just stares pitifully at his finger and insists, "it's fine, don't worry. it'll...grow back." then, sitting up entirely, he puts his left hand on her leg, pulling her attention completely back to him, before placing his bleeding finger into her open mouth. "good blood. don't want it to go to waste, right?"

she's sure she can see him blushing a bit now, or maybe it's just the still-fresh blood rushing from his finger to her mouth causing it. an easy smile settles on both their faces and she drops her bag, focusing only on his dark, deep eyes and his finger in front of her, holding his hand with both of hers. his free fingers brush over her jeans and she grips him just a big tighter, careful to just suck and not bite down.

it's not that hard to work to focus on him; fresh blood is so rare to come by, with most of her meals being from the morgue.