William Thomas Compton (![]() ![]() @ 2009-10-17 12:45:00 |
![]() |
|||
![]() |
|
![]() |
|
![]() |
Entry tags: | !entry post, !incomplete, bill compton, rei ayanami |
Who: Bill Compton and greeter
When: The night of Sookie's grandmother's funeral
Where: The old Compton place, and the Lobby
Rating: PG
There were times when Bill Compton found Sookie Stackhouse to be the most confusing, most infuriating woman on the face of the earth. But luckily these times were few and far between.
When one has lived for a very long time - and there was no denying that Bill had done so, even if perhaps live was not quite the right term, since he had been dead since 1862 - it is easier to practice patience when you will live virtually forever than someone who's lifespan encompasses mere decades. And it also helped that Bill loved Sookie - totally and completely - truly, madly, and deeply.
And even though they had parted on angry terms, the moment he realized what had happened, that her grandmother - whom Sookie loved most in the world - had been killed and that Sookie needed him he was there for her. He would always be there for her, no matter what. Even if she tried to make it difficult for him to do so.
It was very frustrating to him that he could not be there for the funeral, to comfort her, to lend her his strength. But there was nothing he could do about that, as funerals were customarily held in the daytime, and as that was simply an impossibility for him. A no-brainer, as the young ones of this generation would say. But as day became night, and the shadows of the evening reached him in his daybed beneath the old Compton house, which sat just across the cemetery from Sookie's grandmother's home, as soon as he became aware that he could leave the sanctuary of the ground, he was out.
He threw open the door to his antebellum mansion, standing framed in the doorway for just a moment, his head lifted as he sought her, searched for her scent, for her location. And once he had it he began to run, toward his Sookie, his life his heart, running with a fierce intent, to meet her need, to fulfill his own need for her. He ran across the wide lawn of his home, toward the cemetery, knowing she was moving just as inexorably toward him, determined, confident, heart swelling with love...
... until the moment he found himself not in the cemetery, in fact he was nowhere in Bon Temps at all, that he knew, but inside of a swank hotel lobby God knew where. He came to an abrupt halt, looking about him in confusion, wondering what sort of trick of nature had brought him here, or was it something rather unnatural? He spied the front desk, standing alone, unattended, and being rather logical, he approached it and dashed his cold hand over the bell ensconced thereon, in order to draw someone's attention.
*I Sing The Body Electric, Walt Whitman