Woods: Rory & Daniel -- No. 20
There was some evening dew on the grass, and Rory regretted having polished his shoes as he regretted so many things; something realized and tossed flippantly into the past. His kid, his sins, his shame.
He had a headache, that was the booze, but there was a flask in his pocket. He didn't drink from it, knowing it would satiate, but somehow also knowing that he was so far undeserving of that kind of thing. Maybe after he found her. Her, the poisoned light, the tick in his jaw. Sometimes, when he thought about her, it made his throat so tight that every swallow was molten glass... and somewhere, maybe he knew that it wasn't love and it wasn't normal.
But tonight, he was just sideways enough not to know anything, not for sure. So, after combating the name tag, Rory gave the slow rising moon his full attention. That was a lovin and hatin relationship there, and he tongued his teeth at the horizon, thoughtful-like even as the hairs on the back of his neck began to bristle.
Now, Rory was good. And as a man, he was better than any other man, but there was something to be said for a vampire's agility. It likely helped that Rory hadn't sensed him at all, not even a scent, as the hound was something that had to be let in. It was a curse he renewed every night. A shadow flicker, the line of a figure -- maybe he was tipsy -- a shove, and one shoving hand was caught, wrist in his fingers for leverage as Rory stumbled back a step.
Into the trees and darkness' fall, Rory rolled back with discretion, something learned from too many night jobs. The strangest thing is that he wasn't even angry, not until the other man spoke. The creature... and the dog knew what it was, the hound knew, but Rory didn't have a word for it. But he, like the hound, knew fights of dominance, and his lips rolled back over his teeth with the most inhuman fucking sound. Low, guttural, pure animal warning. Spit dribbled off of his lower lip, and his nostrils flared although he was too human still to place the man's scent.
She could only mean one thing. For Rory, there was only one. Others might have asked who Daniel meant or how Daniel knew their beloved, but there was only one question that growled up Rory's throat. "Do you want to die?"
And that, that is when the sky opened up and the rain began to pour down.