@followingofchriist | title; misery & company (Nancy & Nathan) | cont. from here
She gave something of a hum at his word of thanks, choosing not to speak for now. Kindness wasn’t on the agenda and though company she might be, she preferred the silence. Talking just… mucked everything. And she’d had enough fucking talk for one night. Talk seemed inevitable though, so the corner of her mouth twisted slightly, cool blue eyes staring off into the far distance. She’d talk in her own good time.
Nancy placed her own cigarette to her lips, lighting it with a flick of a trusty old Zippo. Dark lipstick smeared the filter when she pulled it away and exhaled. The vampire shifted her weight some, cigarette back in her mouth as she pulled her long white-blonde hair off her shoulder, leather jacket creaking with the movement. She looked at him from the corner of her heavily made-up eyes. Though he smelled human, there was something to his scent that was sour. Off-putting. Sweat, but also blood. Death. Something else. Another inhale of smoke covered most of it.
Initially, she’d sat here because a lone person meant potential victim, but she didn’t even feel like killing tonight—though that could change as easily as her mood. She’d wait, finish her cigarette, then move on—if he didn’t interest her one way or another by then.
Finally, she spoke. “I dunno. Part punk, part grunge.” Death chic, Sylvie called it. Whatever. “Ain’t putting labels on it.” She did like that her appearance brought a shock factor. Pretty and frightening. Yep. That was her in a nutshell.
