Sick as a dog, you'll be sorry WHO: Lorenzo & Castel WHEN: Mid-day WHERE: Some cafe in Scarlet Oak
The upside of the situation at the high school was that everyone's focus was shifted there. The rest of town was more or less empty, which suited Lorenzo just fine. As far as his curse went, some days were all right. He barely even noticed the pain. Some days - like today - were horrible. He'd started off with a troubled dream he couldn't quite remember that ended in someone's hands wrapping around his throat with murderous intent. The freak had managed to wake him up right before the life was crushed out of him. There were red marks on his neck where the fingers had bruised. He needed to get out of Hell House (also sometimes referred to as the Hathaway Home). He'd dressed carefully, picking a sweater that zipped up around his neck and throwing a scarf around his neck for good measure. He'd walked downtown and gotten a seat in a respectable-looking, half-empty cafe.
Once he had his order sitting in front of him (a bagel sandwich and a black coffee), he looked around to see if anyone was watching. There were a few other people in the place, none of whom were paying attention to him as far as he could tell. Unhooking a safety pin from the edge of his sweater, Lorenzo pricked his thumb and wiped the blood onto his palm, muttering a spell that had worked in the past to get rid of his backlash headaches. Trying not to be too obvious, he pressed his bloodied hand to the top of his forehead. The tightness eased just a little bit and he felt like he could breath again. Sighing, he let his elbow drop to the table while keeping his hand pressed against his head. He sagged forward just a little bit and closed his eyes. True, the freak could have helped him out, probably increased his spell's effectiveness, but he had needed to not be around a Hathaway. Opening his eyes, he saw a crack on the lip of the mug in front of him. Had that always been there or was his magic getting sloppier? Lorenzo reached for a napkin to wipe the blood off his face.