Scarlett then stood up from sitting in her chair. “I was actually just leaving to go find a friend.” Scarlett muttered. She looked to her stepsister, “Text me if anything weird happens.”
* * *
In the midst of the festival crowd, the balloons, the multi-colored sparkles that fell from the air, and the different creatures, it was easy to feel a plethora of emotions.
Emotions that were buried away years ago but still haunting. Or, feelings. Feelings that maybe shouldn’t have happened in the first place. Feelings caused trouble.
Scarlett sat at a random bar across from the festival. Colored lights reflected against her face from the stained glass window of the cafe. As she gazed out the window, she saw the fireworks, the festivities, heard the music, and heard the laughter. But she didn’t feel anything. The emotions that she was supposed to feel at least. She texted Silas to meet her at the restaurant. They needed to talk things out.
She wished that she were still back throwing Kilantra blades at random targets at school, instead of sitting in a plush dark seat, dressed in one of her sister’s short-cut, sparkly dresses with a dark training jacket on─alone. She pinched once again at the annoyingly itchy fabric.
Her clear eyes gazed into the remnants of the drink she’d ordered. Scarlett felt too gloomy to finish all that was left of her bloodshake, and too drowsy to even care at all. She bit her lip out of frustration as she shook her head. Where was Silas?
She then pulled out a necklace and licked her fangs. The photograph that stood inside of her silver locket always overwhelmed her. It was the photograph of the woman with dark, curly hair, and forest eyes, but it was torn. She’d had the locket ever since she was little, and figured the photograph had to be her real mother. She favored some of her features.
At the Melsbury orphanage, the supervisors had told her she’d been born with it. But that’s where she always got stuck. Maybe her real mother wanted her to remember her, In some sick way. She then shoved the locket back in her pocket when suddenly, she’d sensed the presence of someone beside her.
“Is this seat occupied?” a voice spoke. She didn’t look up to see who the person was, instead she continued to stare into the boring gaze of her half-drunk drink. She quite frankly just wanted to see Silas, and wasn’t interested in random conversation with a stranger.
Scarlett could smell his blood, as she instantly knew it was a man of Fey. She wanted to cringe. Never in a million years would she have gone for a Fey creature. But It was an undercover, unwritten, illegal rule that almost everyone, no matter what species, had tried to get with the Vampric sexually. Mostly, Vampric women. They were infertile. You didn’t have to worry about Undetermined babies and other chaotic events, and usually people took advantage of that. Most Vampric pregnancies required magic. However, Scarlett never planned anything of the sort. She crossed her arms, but didn’t gaze at him.
“Look, I'm not a ‘Vampric Mistress’ or whatever. So, if you’re thinking about trying anything? Don’t.” Scarlett warned, her eyes gazing out the window, still at the festival. She was defensive. The Fey liked to play tricks. And the city that she was in wasn’t always the safest at night. She suddenly missed Crimsroseyn, her hometown.
But his laughter reminded her of warmth. “I’ve not meant to frighten you.” He sighed, “I desire nothing of the sort.”
She shrugged and doubted that, and took a sip from her cup. She gazed up at a melodic artsy painting that littered the dark brick wall above the window. For, it was a beautiful painting of what looked like the silhouette of a woman. However, red darkness surrounded her. Scarlett wondered for a second about the artist. It was a horrific concept to think about.
“Of course.” She spoke, as she picked at her dress again. She longed to go back to throwing her blades. The satisfaction of the knife hitting the metal target had forced smiles from her lips. Her hands itched for it.
“I was supposed to be meeting with someone.” The voice said. She cracked a half-smile. “However, you looked sad.”
Scarlett cocked her head, and placed one leg over the other. She wore her long dark boots. “Maybe I am.” She met eyes with him for a second, and then looked away. She sipped some of her bloodshake. Half of her hated slurping. She didn’t like the sound of it. Which is why she preferred straws. “Anyway, who’re you meeting?” The dark-haired girl pointed out. She figured she may as well engage in the conversation. It filled the silence, which was nice.
“My someone.” He paused, “I like to think that everyone deserves a someone.” His head tilted, but his eyes were miles away, as if they were lost in a beautiful dream. “Do you have a someone?”
First, her mind had gone to Charlie. The hell of a relationship that she’d gone through with a Vampric boy like him. And then her mind went to the person she currently had loved the most. It was her turn to hesitate. “Having a someone seems so complicated these days.” She said. Scarlett wondered if the person she thought of was her someone. He nodded. “Complicated, yes. Is that why you wear that forlorn expression?”
Her grin faded, “No. Well, I mean I see everyone enjoying themselves, laughing and having fun, when in reality it all just reminds me of my parents you know? Well, my real parents.” She blurted out. “I’m adopted.” She smiled out of fear. She couldn’t
