#moodymason

         With her new home there were suddenly more items that Valentina needed to purchase, Beau’s home had so many amenities but he also had so many staff that Valentina couldn’t quite lift everything she had needed from his cupboards. A trip to the grocery store was in order, even though she didn’t need food, she needed things like a garbage bin, a kettle, and various other bits and pieces.

            Wandering through she had most everything she needed except toiletries, standing in the aisle in front of the brightly coloured soaps she had no idea what she was meant to buy. That was the difficulty so far, there were so many different products with buzz words on them, Valentina didn’t know what any of them meant and was stuck looking through until she aimlessly found one she thought might be right. 

           Stepping backwards slowly, mind crowded by the heartbeats of everyone in the store, she felt her shoulder knock into someone, turning on instinct. “Sorry, I wasn’t -” Paying attention. “Mason?”

       Len’s hand ran over her the soft fabric of her dress that stretched over her thigh. Legs crossed as she sat on the lounge she was told to wait at for her date for the evening. It was a ridiculous notion to imagine that this would be where she would find the prophesied person she was meant to spend her days with but the vampire had hope, at least she did until she’d arrived. It felt like a myriad of ominous signs surrounded her. First being that Beau was there with a woman. The energy of that as a date felt unfortunate and she hoped the young woman could tell since Beau tended to be very secretive about it. The second being that someone Len had slept with, found sweet even, had been paired with one of her friends. 

       The final sign came when a man beelined his way to her booth with an appearance and energy that seemed void of romance. It was then that Len knew she needed to adjust her hope for the evening from potential love to potentially getting laid. “Fuck,” she uttered to herself, bringing the glass of blood to her lips - her refusal to drink bottled blood given up a few days prior because no one would fucking feed her and she was hungry as all hell.

         Eyes glancing from him, nearing their booth and to the ones around her Len reminded herself she had forever, being this alone wouldn’t last. In that moment she decided she would have a fun night with her date, whether they became friends, they fucked, or maybe if she read him wrong more, regardless, she would not murder him and give herself an enjoyable evening. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” she offered when he reached the table.