i am damaged, at best // evina

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #2e2e2e; width:430px; height:550px; padding:0px;] do i divide and fall apart? Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face, the kind you'd find on someone I could save. If they don't put me away, well, it'll be a miracle. I know you think I'm someone you can trust. The night's hard to get through. TAGGED: evina WORDS: 771 His hands would not stop shaking. No matter how much he willed them to, no matter the dirty looks or the number of times he swore or cursed or choked against the rising bile, he could not make his hands stop shaking. He had never expected things to turn out this way. Sure, he had never expected the fact that developing feelings for Evina would come without complications; that in itself was an impossible thought. It was impossible to find yourself in a romance with a vampire and have things turn out peachy keen, as if it were the most normal thing in the entire world, as if it happened every single day. It didn't. He knew it, she knew it. They were uncommon, unlikely, unheard of. All of those things and then some. This was the price he was to pay for letting his emotions get the best of him. Jackson had been avoiding going home for hours now. The Dark Lord had called him, right before sunset, before Evina would have gotten up for the night. He'd left her a note, though he'd mentioned that he'd be back soon. No doubt she'd be having an absolute fit, considering that he had now been gone for several hours and it was now approaching midnight. But for all of the guilt that he felt for that, the guilt for what had transpired tonight between he and the Dark Lord was far, far greater. He couldn't lie to the Dark Lord, this he knew. It would not fare well for him, nor Evina, nor anyone else he associated with, should the Dark Lord choose. So, of course, when he'd brought the subject of Evina up, Jackson had been truthful. He knew that it was better this way, that the Dark Lord found out about her this way, that she be found this way. It meant he could keep an eye on her, take care of her. It meant that he wouldn't end up in the ground when she had only just found her way back to the surface. But it still felt unforgivable. Evina was not like him. She was pure and good and all of the things he could not be. She laughed at the smallest things, a sound that could make his heart feel as though it might burst from his chest. She smiled and lit up the entire room. And she felt remorse, one of the things she hated the most, but one of the things he loved best about her. It was a simply confirmation of how very good she was, a reminder that she was a bright spot, a patch of sunshine in what could otherwise be a very dark life that he lived. And this was how he repaid her. He gave her up to the Dark Lord, who, no matter how much he spoke of his good intent to see her well fed and cared for, would likely treat her as nothing more than a pet for his bidding. It was simply how he saw anyone or anything that wasn't human. Jackson had no problem being treated this way himself by the Dark Lord, but the treatment of Evina as such turned his stomach. That was the reason he had not been able to bring himself to return home yet, partly. The other reason was even worse of a fate, in his own mind: what if she couldn't forgive him? His hand now hovered over the door handle, suddenly unable to move. He had no idea if she'd be inside, what she'd do or say. Never in his life had he felt so terrible, so guilty. It was an awful feeling, and one he knew he had to own up to. That action itself would probably lead to him feeling even more terrible. For the first time in his life, the path he'd chosen left a bitter taste in his mouth. He swallowed hard and exhaled, turning the handle and opening the door. "Evina?" he called, suddenly aware that this was a rather odd case of deja vu. Only this time, he was the one so wracked with guilt that it threatened to consume him whole. Jackson closed the door behind him as he made his way into the house. He turned the corner into the living room, a feeling of peace and terrible guilt washing over him all at once. He smiled weakly, stopping behind the couch and bracing himself on the back of it. "There you are. I thought I might find you here," Why did she have to be so utterly perfect? NOTES: so much muse for this post, it amazed me.

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weeeeee i love violins <3

words: 943

Evina’s pacing was never quite as annoying as everyone else’s. Well – that wasn’t exactly true. It wasn’t as annoying since she’d become a vampire, and she had her newfound stealth to thank for that. Still, she even found herself annoying, wearing tracks in Jackson’s carpet. Eventually, she stopped and picked up Jackson’s note … again. She’d read it multiple times within the past hour alone, growing more and more impatient. ’e’ll be back soon, ‘e’ll be back soon.. Evina couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him while she sat waiting in his home. Biting gently down on her lower lip, Evina continued pacing, glancing at the clock around eleven. It was very unusual for him not to have returned home by now. What if he’d been attacked? What if one of those dogs had somehow found him? These were dangerous times, and of course, Evina suspected Jackson’s involvement with the Death Eaters. That in itself gave her cause for worry. No no no no—

”Jackson!”

[/i] she nearly hissed, stopping her pacing once again. A distraction. She just needed a distraction, something to pass the time until he walked unharmed through the front door as usual. Clasping her hands together, Evina tucked them neatly below her chin as she closed her eyes, taking a deep, unnecessary breath to calm herself. What would he think to see her worrying about him so? Pathetic. Her search for a distraction was a short one as she dashed around the house with a little more speed than a normal human possessed. The initial surge that the massacre at Hogsmeade had given her was starting to wear off—she’d need to feed to maintain her strength. And, of course, she had not for fear of killing someone… again. Evina’s search eventually brought her to Jackson’s room. Regardless of her good intentions, she felt slightly guilty for invading his privacy without his permission. Silently, she lifted her index finger to her lips and nibbled on the cold flesh as she thought. Evina simply didn’t have her violin anymore, after her death, for her things had been sent back to her parents. Jackson’s violin was the only one around anymore. Sighing in defeat over her better judgment, Evina pushed forward out of the door frame and slowly got down on her knees. Searching beneath his bed, she quickly found the black, bulky case and dragged it into the light streaming in through the doorway from the hallway. Running her hand over gently over the top of the case, Evina smiled sadly. Her violin had brought her a lot of comfort in life, and she was saddened to find she no longer had one to call her own.

Eventually, Evina took up the case by the handle and carried it down into the living room. Yes, certainly there was no better way to distract herself than to lose herself in the sweet sounds of a melody. By the time she’d placed the case on Jackson’s small table meant for tea and such things, the young vampire’s face as transformed from distress to eagerness. Her guilt had vanished already; her nimble fingers clicking open the clasps and pulling the case open. Jackson’s violin was beautiful—the wood was striped and well cared for, his strings gleamed with the absence of rosin. Grinning like a child at Christmas, Evina ran her fingers over the wood and the curves, admiring it. Her own violin had been light and solid in wood with signs of age around the f-holes and between the finger board and the bridge. She’d loved it anyway. Silently, Evina scooped beneath the instrument and plucked it from its velvet case, removing the dark, fiberglass bow with it. It’d been rosined already- typical of Jackson. Almost immediately, Evina raised the violin to her shoulder and brought the bow across the strings, listening to its sound. It was definitely beautiful and its tone was gorgeous. Intonation should be lovely when played by its owner; sadly, Evina did not know this violin like her own. It would not be the same, but it would be enough.

Moments later, Evina had the instrument tuned and had begun playing simple jigs, amazed at how easily the music came back to her. Her mind soothed and her nerves disappeared. Even Jackson faded into the back of her mind, the music capturing her attention. It was between songs that a twist of the handle on the front door caught Evina’s attention. Immediately, she lowered the instrument, holding it by its neck, the guilt at stealing it returning. He was home though! She could smell his scent from the living room and could hear the familiar cadence of his heart beating, slightly faster than normal. Turning toward the entrance to the living room, Evina waited for him to found the corner, an innocent smile plastered across her face. There wasn’t possibly a chance that he’d be upset with her, right? It wasn’t as if she’d touched anything else, and he’d always seemed perfectly fine with her occupying his home while he was away. All thoughts of guilt flushed away, however, when his face came into view, his smile weak and.. almost forced. ”In da living room?”[/i] she smiled back, walking over toward the discarded case to place the instrument back inside the grooves meant for it, though she didn’t close it. ”Are ya alright Jackson?”[/i] Once the violin and its bow had been secured, Evina rounded the corner and reached up to cup his face in her hands, her eyes wide with worry. There was something wrong—she could hear it in every beat of his speeding heart.
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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #2e2e2e; width:430px; height:550px; padding:0px;] do i divide and fall apart? Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face, the kind you'd find on someone I could save. If they don't put me away, well, it'll be a miracle. I know you think I'm someone you can trust. The night's hard to get through. TAGGED: evina WORDS: 754 Jackson couldn’t help but smile when he saw Evina standing in the middle of the living room, his violin in hand. He had been wondering how long it would take for her to finally find it, and found it she had. The thought pleased him, and he wondered why he hadn’t just left it out for her in the first place. It was a comforting thought, that Evina had found something to occupy herself that he knew to bring her so much joy. It was evident from the smile on her face, the way her whole body was relaxed that it had done just that. Jackson made a mental note to leave his out or simply buy her a new one. He wasn’t entirely opposed from stealing hers from her parents’ home, should she ask it of him. He swallowed as she walked towards the couch, placing his violin safely back in its case along the way. The way she moved was graceful, almost poetic in a way. It certainly wasn’t human, and perhaps that’s what made it so beautiful. She moved in a way that few others could, with all the fluidity and grace of a dancer, but it was also quick and nimble, almost feline. Jackson wondered what it would be like to be able to move as such as he watched Evina approaching him, only pulling himself out of his thoughts when Evina’s cool hands came to rest on his cheeks. Even if his face didn’t give him away, Jackson knew the staccato rhythm of his heart certainly would. If only he knew how to even begin telling her exactly what had transpired that night... ”I’m fine, I’m fine...” he breathed, closing his eyes as he pressed his cheek into one of her hands. ”I’m not hurt, and neither is anyone else.” Jackson had a terrible feeling, right in the pit of his stomach, that someone soon would be, however. How was he supposed to tell her that he actually was associated with the Death Eaters, people he knew she had never cared for, and then that she was to become the Dark Lord’s pet of sorts in exchange for her life and proper meals? Would she be able to accept that? Or would she disappear in a flurry, out into the night where Jackson knew all too well he could never catch her. Or perhaps her temper would get the better of her and she’d simply put him out of his misery then and there. Jackson had never felt so guilty in his entire life. His hands reached up to cover hers as he opened his eyes, giving the girl standing in front of him a small, even weaker smile. ”I do need to talk te ye, though,” he said, clearing his throat of the bitter lump of self-loathing that had settled there. Jackson thought of taking her to sit on the couch, but he knew he’d only get up to pace, a habit he exhibited when he was most nervous. He pressed his lips to her palm before letting go of her, turning on his heel to being to pace. Jackson ran a hand through his hair, now thoroughly mussed due to the fact that this was not the first time he’d touched it tonight. He exhaled sharply, his arms falling limply to his sides as he shrugged. Best just to get it over with, he thought to himself in a most exasperated tone. ”I’m a Death Eater,” he breathed, turning to face her. He shook his head as he ran his hand through his hair yet again -- apparently another nervous tic. ”Tonight the Dark Lord called me, an he tol’ me he knew about ye. About us.” Jackson turned to pace again, the shakes in his hands having returned with a vengeance. ”And all in all, really, I’m just the fuckin’ messenger, aren’t it?” he said more to himself than Evina, throwing his hands up in the air with a weak laugh. Jackson turned to look at Evina, face dead straight save for the bit of agony he knew his eyes harboured. ”Yer t’join the Death Eaters, in exchange for proper meals.” Jackson swallowed hard, closing his eyes. ”And yer life,” he exhaled. He’d never wished more in his life that he could drop dead there and then. What a fine fucking mess he’d gotten them into. NOTES: poor boy

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i .. just love them. so much. it hurts

words: 1535

The warmth from his cheeks spread like wildfire through her icy palms, forcing her to smile contently. Whatever was troubling him, they could work out together—of this, she was sure. Though his immediate response was less than she desired, Evina remained patient and let her gaze roam over his features, waiting for the truth amid his attempts to consol her. Really, he was so very handsome. It nearly hurt to look at him, but then again, it excited to know that he was hers. Wasn’t he? They had . . . a relationship. It was easy. It was sweet and gentle and understanding. They’d fallen into it without complication, and being with him was as easy as breathing. He was good for her, right? Just then, his hands covered hers, forcing more warmth through her hands and causing her sudden doubts to vanish. Yes, yes he was hers. Their relationship was unnatural because of what she was, but he was still hers and that was what helped her through the pain of this . . . existence. As he opened his eyes, Evina smiled back at him, trying to see into his soul and his troubles through their doorways. His faltering smile, however, ruined her efforts as she let her gaze sweep over his face once again. This wasn’t right. He was much too worried over this. In time, her smile faltered as well, falling into a slight grimace.

His gentle kiss on her palm before he let her go was reassuring, and she found an innocent little smile creep back upon her lips. No. No they could get through whatever this was. That was when he began to pace. Biting her lip softly, Evina watched but did not dare get in his path. This was how he would best cope with telling her his troubles, she realized. It was not her place to interrupt him when he was like this . . . at least not yet. As time went on, though, Evina became more and more restless, recognizing her newfound impatience building within her where it never had been when she had been human. Quelling it was difficult, but possible. Eventually, she began to twitch, her hands locking together and coming up to rest beneath her chin as typical characteristic of hers. Her mind wandered to the worst of possibilities. What if he had got himself into trouble? Serious, life threatening trouble? What if he was breaking up with her? Immediately she beat herself down for being so insecure. If that was what he was doing, this would not be the way he’d do it and she knew as much. With this is mind, Evina found her gaze lowering to the ground as she thought of all the possibilities. She was very near cracking and asking him again to tell her what was the matter when he suddenly, unexpectedly breathed his admittance.

It did not frighten her as much as it should have.

It wasn’t like Evina hadn’t considered the possibility before. She knew his view about blood purity and she had always had a feeling he might be as much. Somehow, he had always managed to hide his mark from her, but the absence of the dreaded Dark Mark had not evaporated her fears. Well, was it really a fear? Evina’s eyes grew wider for a moment as she took in the information, barely seeing him as he turned toward her. Her body went unnervingly still, devoid even of the normal motions of breathing that Evina made an effort to retain. Was she afraid? No.. Not really. The fear was in having her suspicions suddenly confirmed. Just like that- ‘I’m a Death Eater’. Couldn’t be simpler, right? Before Evina had a chance to respond, mentally or otherwise, Jackson continued. His words, unlike his initial admittance, added horror to the situation. The Dark Lord. Oh .. oh Merlin no. Vaguely, Evina registered that he had returned to pacing, but was too far lost in her shock to realize he was shaking frightfully so. It was at the mention of ‘meals’ that Evina finally shook off the paralyzing shock, her gaze cutting sharply up to his. Her face, which she could barely feel, was nearly devoid of emotion. She’d retreated, as she had nearly always done, into her mind. Thoughts, though, weren’t fluid. Evina could barely process what he’d just said until he’d finished. Finally, his words replayed in her mind over and over until it clicked. Join the Death Eaters.

This was her punishment.

She’d known it had to be coming—the punishment for massacring all of her victims at Hogsmeade a few weeks back. Before she’d even realized what was happening, Evina had fallen to her knees, leaning against the back of the couch but not saying a word. Her face was appallingly apathetic, her wide eyes sliding nearly shut. A sliver of her black eyes would be all that he’d be able to see. Her hands had long since fallen to her sides but now rested in her lap, for she now also sat on the floor with her legs folded neatly beneath her. Slowly, her shock ebbed away-- so very slow for her, but much faster than could be expected of any human. Within a minute of silence, Evina began to work again, her body resuming her habitual motions of breathing and blinking. Within another minute, she was looking up at Jackson through her eyelashes, her face revealing little of her emotions, for truthfully she didn’t know how to react. Was she upset? Not particularly, because she believed she had had this coming. She’d murdered over and over without real cause, for she hadn’t needed the excess blood she drank. A pitiful sense of defeat and acceptance overtook her. Yes, yes she deserved this. After another moment, Evina rose to her feet and walked over to Jackson, whom she’d finally recovered enough to see was hurting beyond belief because of what he believed was his fault. Without a word, Evina wrapped her small arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, her eyes closing. Her inability to actually breathe and produce masked her true grief, for which she was suddenly grateful. This was her punishment, and Jackson was truly just the messenger.

But . . . the Dark Lord? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? He wanted Evina as a pet? It really wasn’t all that surprising. Vampires, as she was discovering, could actually be intimidating and strong when fed properly—though what constituted ‘properly’ was yet to be discovered. The world had resigned vampires as weak beings due to their attempts to blend into society, this much she knew. What would become of vampires who fed properly? The answer came to her almost immediately—she could be used in the wizarding war as an entirely new type of soldier. The idea, had she been able to, would have made her burst into tears. Instead, she remained silent in a withdrawn fashion. Her punishment. This was her punishment, and she would do well to remember that. At least she could reassure Jackson that this was in no way his fault. Evina had been the one to be careless, as she had no doubt Hogsmeade had been where the Dark Lord had discovered her . . . Anger slowly grew within her, aggressiveness overtaking her acceptance. Anger at Jackson for blaming himself, anger at the Dark Lord for forcing her into a role she would never had even considered, at herself for causing the whole situation because of her inability to control herself. Even now, Jackson’s quick, unsteady beating heart called to her within his chest. The rush of blood through his veins snagged her attention, mixing with her anger. It took a lot of self control to drag her thoughts back to the matter at hand.

”T’is not yer fault, Jackson,”

[/i] she eventually said, forcing her voice to sound calm and collected. Inside, she could feel her emotions pulling her apart to the beat of his pulse. Her arms tightened around his waist as she moved so look up into his face. Immediately, she felt herself cool down-- how he worked such magic on her, she’d never know. Stretching up on his toes, Evina pecked his cheek softly before smiling sadly. She could not make him feel bad for this, and so she chose her words carefully. ”I . . will accept yer Lord’s most . . gra’cious offer.”[/i] Nodding slightly, Evina pecked his other cheek, releasing his waist to bring her hands up to cup his jaw once more. ”Jackson, don’ look like that. T’is not yer fault. I caused tis.”[/i] Oh, how well she had been doing until this very moment, when she broke. Her bottom lip began to quiver just before she leaned forward and kissed him softly, sadly. What would meeting the Dark Lord be like? She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t immediately frightened. She’d be an experiment if she happened to be the first vampire he’d snagged. Selfishly she hoped she wasn’t, though. Evina honestly hoped she’d be lost in a room full of ‘pets’, so that she wasn’t alone as she’d always been.
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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #2e2e2e; width:430px; height:550px; padding:0px;] do i divide and fall apart? Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face, the kind you'd find on someone I could save. If they don't put me away, well, it'll be a miracle. I know you think I'm someone you can trust. The night's hard to get through. TAGGED: evina WORDS: 830 Jackson didn’t know what disturbed him more about this moment: the fact that Evina had sunk down to the floor and that his legs seemed to be bolted to the floor beneath them, or the fact that she’d done that instead of running out of the house or planting what he felt would be a well-deserved slap straight across his cheek. She looked so small there, sitting with her legs tucked under her as a child would have, but in a much more silent and infinitely more still manner. For a long (and in hindsight, ironic) moment, she appeared as though dead. Unmoving. Unblinking. Not taking even the smallest of breaths. She was a statue, a hollow figurine, and he’d caused her to become this. What a miserable bastard he was. When she moved again, pulling herself up to her feet, it startled Jackson enough to cause him to flinch. His legs were still bolted to the floor, it seemed. All the better, if her intention was to approach him and rip his throat out. Then again, he hardly needed to have been seemingly paralyzed for her to have done that, if she so chose. It would have been nothing less than he deserved. And that was precisely why it gave him another start when her arms wrapped around his waist, her cheek coming to rest against his chest in silence. It was the single most heartbreaking and soothing thing that she could have possibly done, and he liked her all the better for it. He had no idea what was going on in her head (although he was sure that it certainly wasn’t rainbows and kittens up there), but her actions spoke louder than words could have possibly in that moment. It would somehow be alright. It had to be. Jackson’s moved to wrap around Evina’s small frame, pulling her in close and pinning her lightly to his body, as if a gesture to hide her from the rest of the world. He pressed his nose into the top of her head, inhaling the smell of her soap, which had seemed to have a soothing effect on him. His eyes drifted closed as he listened to her breathe, the only sound that told him he hadn’t killed her. Not yet, at least, and not ever, if he had any say in it. His hand would never do any damage to her ever again, in payment for this most terrible, terrible betrayal. Her voice caused a small smile to spread over his lips as he looked down into her upturned face. Of course she would try to alleviate any of the guilt, the blame that he felt. But, of course, no amount of words from her would be able to remove those feelings. In time, maybe, but not now. In his own eyes, he was still one of the most wretched creatures standing on the face of the earth. ”Beg to differ, pet,” he breathed, leaning down to press his lips against her forehead. His heart clamped down upon itself when her lips found his cheek, even harder when her words reached his ear. Of course, she had no real choice in the matter - it was this or die. But that fact didn’t make those words any easier to hear. Either decision would have created an unbearable ache in his chest, this he knew. He swallowed hard and shook his head as she finally began to fall apart in front of him. His hands held her face gingerly as her lips met his. Were it that he could hold her there forever, somewhere infinitely safer and happier. Certainly the Dark Lord could be generous, benevolent even, but first you had to prove your worth to him. First you had to prove that you were not useless, that you had a purpose as a Death Eater. Realistically, the Dark Lord could have simply ordered Evina’s death. But instead, he had given her the option to join their ranks (albeit as more of a pet, he imagined) -- that in itself was a very, very generous offer on his part. He did not have a history of kindness. Jackson pressed his nose into her hair again, his words getting tangled up in her hair as he spoke softly. ”I caused this, too, Evina, no matter how stubbornly yeh argue otherwise,” he breathed, shaking his head. ”But the Dark Lord... He’ll be good t’ya if ya do as he asks. An’ ye’ll be properly fed, ye won’t feel so weak or tired.” He swallowed hard as he pulled back, staring down into her blackened eyes. ”It’ll work out. It has t’ work out. Don’t it?” Jackson gave her a small smile, the tiny spark of hope that was left in his heart. Perhaps wishes and stubbornness would be enough to see it fanned into a proper flame. NOTES: brave face.

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sorry i just sort of babbled. this one isn't so good ><

words: 1100

His arms around her waist helped to keep her up, though she was doing remarkably well standing on her own. In fact, even as she felt herself breaking, she knew she was handling this better than she should have expected. The warmth of his body against hers also did wonders in distracting Evina, lulling her into a numb sense of protection that she recognized as false. Nevertheless, she knew it was best to give into it, at least until the shock passed completely. His kiss was soft, guarded, and so very careful. It was as if he were afraid anything he did might break her, which sadly was not helping her stay in the zone of comfort he’d created. She needed to forget, but somehow… she knew it was best she face this now. Evina had never been one for such situations as this- she’d never had to deal with life changing events and dramatic decisions like joining the Death Eaters or becoming a vampire before. Truly, they tested her morals in a strained way she didn’t quite like, and if joining Jackson as a pet for the cause would be anything like transitioning into a vampire, she knew there she’d slowly start to lose herself. Evina had had to struggle to retain a sense of self to begin with, being the blood-sucker that it was. It was difficult, and often she gave into depression and sadness—Jackson had been her only savior in all of this. Could she blame him for ruining the peace he’d given her? Yes, yes she could. But she wouldn’t, knowing that without him in the first place, she might have suffered the true death once more.

Jackson’s retaliation to her words had been expected, just as his denial of innocence had been expected. A sad smile touched her lips as she tried to ignore how good it felt to have him this near. His words blended in with her hair, his breath tickling her ear, his words almost devoid of meaning as his presence overwhelmed her. His scent was everywhere, as was the sharp smell of rosin and wood. It made her want to go back five minutes and have him return with just a kiss and a smile of happiness rather than this nightmare. Closing her eyes, Evina leaned into his chest more, letting him support more of her meager weight. Slowly, slowly she replayed his words in her mind, grasping at the key points in an attempt to understand what was said. When she finally did understand, she forced a stiff nod, but otherwise did not reply. Ye won’t feel so weak or tired . . . He’ll be good t’ya. Both seemed like foreign concepts. Weakness, she had assumed up until her massacre back in Hogsmeade, was a natural state belonging to the vampire race. Now, she knew better—if one fed frequently, vampires were actually quite gifted and dangerous. And oh, how the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would use that too. She had no illusions that he was offering her such a deal out of the goodness of his heart, but rather for his own benefit. Evina would most likely be expected to fight in battles, or perform specific tasks that would most likely involve killing. He wouldn’t understand the battle she fought for control, and if he did, he would simply exploit it or his own gain, for that was the kind of Lord he was. Biting her lip, Evina trained her eyes on Jackson’s as he pulled back to stare down at her.

Don’t it? Again, Evina felt her bottom lip quiver as she fought to remain calm. No. Not it didn’t. The Dark Lord had quite the reputation, and she didn’t expect patience from him. Evina would have certain expectations, and if she couldn’t fill them, he’d send her back to the grave she’d risen from… for good this time. Jackson truly had hope though, where Evina’s was dwindling as the desperation of the situation settled in. Finally, she bit down on her lip, the tips of her carefully concealed fangs exposing themselves again her pale skin. It stopped quivering, but without the release, Evina found herself shaking slightly. Her control was slipping, and she knew as much. Control had never really been a strong trait of hers, at least not since her transformation. All at once, Evina’s masked features broke into a true reflection of fear and despair as a shrill shriek escaped her lips. Immediately she buried her face in his chest, her head shaking back and forth in denial. This couldn’t be happening. How had she gone from healing to killing? How had her life rolled over so completely? Her sobs continued, muffled by the fabric covering Jackson’s chest, and she made no more attempts to quell them. Evina’s thoughts ran rampant, imaging what he would look like, be like, how he might treat her. She’d be a pet, and the thought drove her crazy with fear and frustration. A caged animal to be prodded and ordered around. Evina’s fingers dug into his lower back as she nearly screamed into his chest, her hair doing wonders to shield her face from him. She hated for him to see her like this, but at the same time she was so grateful that he was here for her.

Evina no longer enjoyed the release tears gave her, and so her agony lasted longer than it really should have. Several minutes went by, during which time she’d completely given him all her weight to support as she shrieked her fears. No complete thoughts ran through her head for several moments, instead she saw flashes of a frightening man threatening her in every way that was effective and fragmented sentences reflecting her stream of consciousness. Jackson..pain..scared..snakes..blood..death. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t going to be okay, and at this point, even for Jackson’s sake she couldn’t look up and lie. ”No, it won’, Jackson. He’ll kill me fer one ting or anot’er. Why couldn’ I ‘ave jus waited fer ya? I killed an’ drank, an’ Jackson it felt so good ‘til I realized wha I’d done an’, oh Jackson..” Evina just rambled on and on, her voice breaking and muffled against his chest. She’d grown absolutely hysterical and self loathing. This was her fault. If she wasn’t such a monster, if she could have waited for her meal like normal she wouldn’t have killed at all. She’d be safe and Jackson would be safe, for she had no doubt the Dark Lord would use her against him. Oh bloody-freakin’-hell what a mess.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #2e2e2e; width:430px; height:550px; padding:0px;] do i divide and fall apart? Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face, the kind you'd find on someone I could save. If they don't put me away, well, it'll be a miracle. I know you think I'm someone you can trust. The night's hard to get through. TAGGED: evina WORDS: 856 The sound that suddenly escaped from Evina was both startling and heartbreaking, all at the same time. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he knew he wasn’t the one making it, and that there was no one else in the house, he wouldn’t have believed that it had come from her. It was a high, shrill wail of terror and despair and wretchedness and all of the awful things that had been dealt to her in this hand. The hand he’d helped deal her. True, he’d really not had a choice in the matter; they either both died or they both lived. Simple as that. Although in this moment, Jackson almost wished that he had chosen the former. The obvious heaviness in her soul weighed ten-fold on his own, yet the thing that really bothered him was that she was hurting so. He’d never really cared if he’d hurt anyone in the past. And now, for the first time in a long time, his fucking conscience had decided to make an appearance. He had no idea what to do with the girl in his arms. He’d never seen someone so distraught, so burned and defeated and helpless. And so, his hands ran over her hair and back wordlessly, the occasional “shush”-ing sound falling from his mouth as she cried. As the minutes ticked past, the lump in his throat grew larger and larger, threatening to suffocate him where he stood. Jackson swallowed hard against it, refusing to let the emotions he was feeling laid on the floor. Evina was already a mess, and it would not to well for either of them to have Jackson do the exact same. At this point, he could only imagine that the scene with him would play out almost the exact same. It was as if there was a weight on his chest, increasing brick by brick with each of Evina’s sobs, threatening to crush him. This was his fault. He had a significant role in doing this to her. He didn’t dare think of asking for her to forgive him, because he knew he’d never forgive himself. Not unless things turned out better than expected, which was unlikely but not impossible. Finally her words broke through the sobs. They were fragmented and mixed in with heaves for air, but words none the less. They stabbed at him as if they were poisoned, each stinging him and leaving a burn he knew he would not be able to shake. ”Shhh, shhh now,” he mumbled into her hair, his knees bending to settle them on the floor. He pulled her into his lap, chin resting on the crown of her head. ”He’d ‘a found out about ye one way or another, Evina. What happened that night has nothin’ te’ do with it.” Realistically, it was true. Lord Voldemort always found out about everything to do with his Death Eaters, there was no escaping that fact. Whether by Occulumency or loose lips, he would find out. What had happened in the village had only sped up eventual events. Jackson pressed his lips against the top of her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her soap, eyes closing. Were it that they’d come together under different circumstances. In a different life, perhaps they could have been happier. Then again, in a different life, being who they both were, would they have ever come together? Something inside him said no, and that in itself was a bitter pill to swallow. And yet he could no longer imagine his day to day life without seeing her or talking to her or hearing her laugh. Now wasn’t that a deliciously frightening thought. His hands found their way to her cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears that had fallen as he tilted her face upward. Jackson gave her a small smile, his eyes shining with just a touch of hope at his sudden realization. ”Perhaps it won’t be as bad as ye think,” he said, exhaling. ”Perhaps he’ll be more merciful than ye think. I’m, I’m moving up in rank. Some of the stuff I did the other night, the Dark Lord was real pleased with. And he rewards those who do well for him. So maybe things will be alright, darlin’” The thought lifted his soul a little. He couldn’t rely on that, considering that the Dark Lord had been known to change his mind as often as Jackson changed his socks. Still, what other choice did they really have? ”We can’t run, Evina. He’d find us and he’d kill us in more nasty ways than ye’ can possibly imagine. I’ve seen it first hand.” The bitter thought of Fenrir’s last...meal rose to mind, and he shook it clear. His lips pressed firmly to her forehead as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close. ”We’ll figure it out,” he mumbled against her soft skin, taking a deep breath. ”We’ll figure it out.” NOTES: muse..

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