night. She knew he was a vampire, but not just any vampire, he was the one she had been waiting for.
Gabrielle dextrously pulled herself out of the window and climbed up the roof, where Edge was perched. The stars were out in full brightness and as she leaned her head on his shoulder, she silently pointed out their star. He smiled and rested his chin on her head.
"Hi." Gabrielle spoke, in an innocent voice, too innocent to suit her. Edge didn’t respond, but pulled her closer, warming her against the cold of the spring wind. Gabrielle and Edge sat silent, watching the stars roll across the sky, unmindful of time or other people walking below, or any other inconsequential things. Before dawn hit the sky, Gabrielle spoke in the last minutes of darkness.
"See that star there? The brightest one?" She pointed at an almost blindingly white star that he was sure wasn’t there before.
"Uh-huh?" she sighed and moved closer to Edge.
"I know who hung it there."
As the stars gave way to the first orange-pink colours of day, Gabrielle and Edge climbed back in the house through the window, and as the curtains were shut, retreated into the comforting arms of one another again. They were once again drawn to each other through madness and love. Before drifting off into sleep, Edge thought the star, and what she meant.
"Gabrielle, who hung the star?" She raised her head from his chest, and shot him an odd look.
"Christian, of course. He made the sky."
As Aspen watched Christian devour drink after drink she thought of why she dragged her ass from New York to New Orleans. Christian remained hunched over his many empty glasses, not looking up at all, which bothered her. How was she supposed to get his attention if he wasn’t even looking? Frustrated, she slammed down her own glass and made her way through the crowd to the empty stool beside Christian. Aspen straightened her black silk dress, and put a fake smile on, causally leaning against the bar. Christian still didn’t look up.
"Can I sit here?" She asked sweetly. He shrugged half-heartedly, and mumbled a response. "Pardon?"
"I said I don’t care." He reiterated, turning his head slightly. Aspen, continuing to smile, boosted herself up on the seat, leaning near him and still string to catch his attention. Seeing that inadvertent means weren’t working, Aspen opted for the more direct approach.
"I’m Aspen." She said, sticking her hand annoyingly in his face.
"Wonderful." He grumbled, hunching down lower over the bar.
"And you are?" Sighing deeply, Christian turned in his seat and despite the hair covering his face, stared into her eyes with a piercing glare, letting her know she was unwelcome on this particular night.
"Look, I don’t care what the hell you want, but leave me alone. I’ve got too many problems with the dead, and damned if I need to be hated by the living too. Go home. You’re not wanted here." Aspen’s heart stopped at the sadness in his voice coupled with the coldness of his eyes. There had to be something she could do. He was the one she came for. She couldn’t lose him.
"I just wanted to – "
"No, go away. Maybe come back when I’m not dead-set on being too drunk to think, and to maybe come up with an excuse for my behaviour. Hear me? Leave." His voice rose continually with anger and not a trace of sadness was left. Aspen backed away reluctantly, muttering under her breath too soft for him to hear that he was the one. He would fulfil the destiny her dreams had brought her. He would be hers, and she would be his.