Lafayette was right. She was the angel of death. Everything she touched, or loved, died right in front of her. It didn't matter how hard she fought, or wanted, or loved... they always died.
Always left her. And most of the time, it was her fault.
Gran? Died because she was dating a vampire.
Her parents? Died because she was fae.
Tara? Died because she was spending time with Alcide.
Alcide? Died because she was with Bill.
Bill? Had Hep-V and died by her hand, to keep her out of harms way and so that she could have a normal life.
It didn't matter what she did or where she went, how much she prayed or how much she pleaded. People she loved tended to get hurt, disappear, or die.
She sat in the living room of her house, Alcide's jacket in her arms and the ring that Bill had proposed with on her thumb; she had lost so much weight recently that it no longer fit on her finger. It would fall off. All around her were memories; memories of people she had loved and lost, reminders of what she had done, what she had caused.
"I'm so... so sorry," she said quietly as she brought Alcide's jacket back up to her face and inhaled; his scent was slowly fading from it, and she knew the day it was gone entirely would be a day much like this one: wake up, wrap her arms around herself as though she could keep her heart from breaking, and curl up on the couch to cry the day away. And to make things better, tonight she was going to talk to Jess. To see if the relationship that they had would ever be the same.
She lay on her side on the couch, curling up using Alcide's jacket as her pillow and twirling the ring on her thumb over and over as the TV droned on and on. She didn't care that the other vamps were going to be fine, if Eric gave up the cure. She didn't care that the other humans were safe. Bill was dead. Alcide was dead. And her heart? She was sure it was dead, too.
"You is the angel of death."
If only she had listened....
Always left her. And most of the time, it was her fault.
Gran? Died because she was dating a vampire.
Her parents? Died because she was fae.
Tara? Died because she was spending time with Alcide.
Alcide? Died because she was with Bill.
Bill? Had Hep-V and died by her hand, to keep her out of harms way and so that she could have a normal life.
It didn't matter what she did or where she went, how much she prayed or how much she pleaded. People she loved tended to get hurt, disappear, or die.
She sat in the living room of her house, Alcide's jacket in her arms and the ring that Bill had proposed with on her thumb; she had lost so much weight recently that it no longer fit on her finger. It would fall off. All around her were memories; memories of people she had loved and lost, reminders of what she had done, what she had caused.
"I'm so... so sorry," she said quietly as she brought Alcide's jacket back up to her face and inhaled; his scent was slowly fading from it, and she knew the day it was gone entirely would be a day much like this one: wake up, wrap her arms around herself as though she could keep her heart from breaking, and curl up on the couch to cry the day away. And to make things better, tonight she was going to talk to Jess. To see if the relationship that they had would ever be the same.
She lay on her side on the couch, curling up using Alcide's jacket as her pillow and twirling the ring on her thumb over and over as the TV droned on and on. She didn't care that the other vamps were going to be fine, if Eric gave up the cure. She didn't care that the other humans were safe. Bill was dead. Alcide was dead. And her heart? She was sure it was dead, too.
"You is the angel of death."
If only she had listened....
