Hallows: Eulalie

The One Place I've Wanted To Be For A While Now

Bullet For My Valentine- Hand of Blood

Dante:

"And keep you in the rear of your affection, out of the shot and danger of desire. The chariest maid is prodigal enough if she unmasks her beauty to the moon," what a f*****g hoax, I scoff as I slam my book shut. Shakespeare is the biggest waste of f*****g time. Why the school insists on teaching us this s**t is beyond me. What does this old outdated s**t have to do with the real world? Abso-f*****g-lutely nothing. That's what. But as far as brotherly advice goes, it's not too bad.

I look around the common room to see that everyone has gone to bed already. This is what Tony is teaching Ashley about literature next. Shakespeare makes me think of my mother. No matter how much grass I smoke, it's not enough to quiet the sound of her screaming in the back of my head when I think of her. When I do manage to drift off, I see him. My father standing over her, drenched in her blood. The crazed look of a madman stares back at me with a grin meant for the f*****g nightmares that haunt me. f**k him.

I get up heading to the one place I've wanted to be for a while now. I don't see much of her during the day since I let her go, but it's ten o'clock and this is usually the only time that the grand piano is available for her to use to her heart's content and sleep, be damned if she didn't make good use of her time here.

The sound of Andante Cantabile chimes from inside the grand hall. I quietly sneak inside and take a seat in the darkness of the back rows to give her as much privacy as I can. There she is sitting in her usual spot with her back to me. The ends of her long dark brown hair sways a little over the piano bench as she moves around pressing away at those keys as if there was nothing more important in the world. She was upset when we picked her up earlier and it doesn't seem like she's in a better mood.

On her first day of school, she was almost kicked out. It was by sheer coincidence that I walked out of the boy's dorm at the same time she walked out of the girl's dorm. Her gorgeous hazel eyes turned to honey with the shine of the morning sun on her face. She was the first to look away and run off. The dark brown hues in her hair in the morning light brought a smile to my face. Chocolate, her hair looks like melted chocolate cascading down to her slender waist just above her perfectly toned ass.

The devils deep in hell must have blessed my unholy need to see her again, because when I walked into homeroom that morning and spotted her in the back of the class with her head buried in a notebook, my heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I sat down two seats away from her. Far enough to keep her at a distance, close enough for me to spot her every movement. Not that she moved much. She's completely engrossed in whatever is in that notebook. Every now and then her fingers moved in front of her as if she were playing the piano. That quickly became one of my favorite things she does.

I was so focused on her hands that I didn't see when Malec Kline took a seat next to her. My blood rushed cold when he leaned in to look over her shoulder. She quickly moved away from him. A smile tugged at the edges of my lips with approval. He said something to her and the next thing I knew her fist connected with his throat. She grabbed her notebook and stepped away from him as he began to choke. Vomit sprayed the study table and the students in front of them. Her eyes shot to me when I laughed, but she didn't say a word as she prepared to leave.

"Nice shot," I complimented when she walked passed me. She paused for a very brief second, her back taut with anger, and then she was running from me again.

I can still feel the satisfying crack of his f*****g nose breaking against my knuckles. I can hear his pleas when I think about it. I play them in my head every time I see him in the hallway. How he begged me to stop punching his stupid f*****g face. I promised myself I wasn't going to obsess over her but here I am and I f*****g miss her.

The way she looks at me. Those eyes are not of an innocent little nobody. No, there's more to her than that. A lot more. She knows what it's like to need something. To obsess. To crave it so bad that she'd sell her f*****g soul to the devil himself to obtain it. Why else would she stay up all night practicing? Why would she spend every waking moment studying and working to stay in this f*****g hell hole if not for the only thing she loves?

I know she hates it here. The way she looks at us with contempt. We're nothing but rich entitled snobs to her. I see the way she looks at the food in the cafeteria. The way she rolls her eyes when the girls talk about how expensive their things are. How it angers her when they talk s**t about their parents getting them a new luxury car in the wrong color. It's cute.

They have deemed her unworthy of our school and she could care less. She simply goes about her day giving her very best. We are nothing compared to her. A simple step on her staircase to greatness. And it's there. I see it. So much potential. Power like this isn't made. She was born with that gift. That touch of darkness in her very being. I didn't think I'd ever had anything in common with her of all people.

"Not today, Blackstone," she stops playing. I look up at her completely taken by surprise. She's never spoken to me before. She shouldn't even know I'm here. "I know you're there. I heard you come in,"

"Am I being too loud?" I ask getting up. Getting caught was the last thing I wanted. I want to be here. Need to be here. To listen to her give in the way she does. She lets out a heavy sigh.

"You never make a sound. I just know you're there. I can't think with you here. I'm missing my tempo. Your presence, for once, is unwelcomed," for once? Has she known I've been here every night since I first discovered her here?

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I-uh," I scratch the back of my neck nervously. "I'm embarrassed,"

"Don't be," she sighs heavily, scratching her forehead.

"Are you okay?" I ask. She turns her body all the way to face me. I can't see them but I can smell her tears from here. How did I miss it before? The salty scent of her sadness is now heavy in the air.

"My dad is dying," she chokes out. She turns back to the piano and starts to cry.

The sounds of her low sobs are as beautiful as her music and they strike me hard. I cross the auditorium and step onto the stage with her. I remember the first time I ever step foot here. I never wanted to get off again. She looks up at me when I approach.

Not wanting to get hit, I move behind her to the Cello sitting behind her. My mother insisted I play a "real" instrument when I started to learn how to play the bass, and for some dumb reason, this is the one I chose. At the time, I was obsessed with Bach and it made my mom happy that I picked it up as fast as I did.

I position myself and adjust the instrument to my liking. She watches my every movement and I swear to all that's unholy that her lonely gaze warms me in ways that I haven't felt in years. I start with a Prelude, moving my bow against the strings, trying to handle the untuned instrument to the best of my abilities without f*****g it up. This thing belongs to someone and the last thing I want to do is break it. I've broken a couple when I competed in the past.

Ashley Villanueva is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Even with tears flowing out of those beautiful monstrous eyes of hers. If anything, it adds to the solitude that matches the loneliness in my soul. It's an odd feeling to know that there are others out there. Others who understand the pain the way we do. To feel it day in and day out with no relief, no peace, and no way out.

The kind of pain that festers with time and turns into a soul-eating infection. Everything it touches turns to ash, to nothing. There is nothing in this world that will ever satisfy the emptiness left behind by those who have damaged us. Nothing except for this.

The darkness we pour into our only outlet. The only way we can truly express what we feel. This bow, those keys, the songs and poems written in the margins of our notebooks, and the last words of those we wish would return to us screaming at us every waking moment of our existence.

Cry. Cry, my sweet evil angel. Show me the pieces of your shattered existence and I promise you that I will hold on to them forever. I swear that your tears will solely belong to me. I will cherish them even in death. Hold them so close to my heart that nothing else will ever exist in the deep empty trenches of my soul. Watch me. Watch me, angel. This is for you, my beloved Ashley.

"How do you have perfect f*****g pitch?" she sniffles when I lower my bow.

I smile at her and shrug, watching as she wipes her face, smearing mascara all over her cheeks. I get up taking my bandana out of my back pocket. I sit next to her and wipe away the evidence of her sadness. That only belongs to me. No one else is allowed to know that she's capable of shedding tears this way.

"Don't let them see you cry, Villanueva," I whisper. "You're in a zoo filled with very exotic and deadly animals. Show a little weakness and they'll pounce."

"Are you an exotic animal?" she smirks.

"The worst kind," I give her a nod.

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"How long does your father have?" I ask.

Is that what I'm doing? Being nice? I've never been accused of such a thing. I fold the bandana and tuck it into my back pocket. I'm never going to wash it. It has her tears on it. Little smears of her mascara. I'll take it as payment for my performance.

"He's been sick for a long time. Liver failure," she clears her throat.

"Hmm," I nod. "My father was sick as well. Dementia. He murdered my mother in a fit. Thought she was a demon," he didn't think that. He knew. We all are. Reapers, snakes. Evil. Real f*****g evil creatures of the night. "It sucks,"

"I'm sorry," she sighs with relief.

The sound annoys the hell out of me. Not because she's taking comfort in our losses. No. The idea of her relating to me. The idea of her wanting to connect. I can't allow that. I can sit in the shadows of her existence without ruining her. Without bringing her into my cursed life. But I don't want her in the shadows of mine. No, not shadows. Darkness. There's just darkness here. Villanueva. Run. Run as far away from me as you can and never look back because once I have you, I don't plan on ever letting you go.

"Wait," she calls after me when I get up to leave. I pause at the stairs that lead off the stage.

"Don't talk to me. If you see me walking in your direction, turn the other way. We're not friends, Ashley. Not now. Not ever," I warn her.

"Why are you here then?" she demands angrily. "Why would you play for me if you didn't want to be friends?"

"I don't. I'm never coming back," I try to dismiss her. I like that it bothers her. That there's a tiny part of her that wants to come a little closer.

"Dante-" she calls out my name and my knees almost give out. I turn around to glare at her, feeling the warmth in my chest bloom. No, cut that s**t off, Dante. Don't let her in. You can't.

"You don't f*****g know me, b***h. Don't you ever f*****g call me by name again," I growl. She steps back, falling onto the piano bench with a shocked expression on her flawless face.

I expect her to cry again but her expression twists into fury as she processes what I just said. She stands up taking her notes from the top of the piano. Before I can move, she throws the pages at me, hitting me in the face. I can't say I don't deserve it. The glare of unhinged rage only makes her that much lovelier.

My god, she is beautiful. I can stand here just staring at her all night. I've done it. I've been doing it from the first time I laid eyes on her. I'm going to have to be more careful from now on. I've been reckless because I thought she was just another human, but she has sharp instincts. She's a fighter.

"Don't you ever call me a f*****g b***h again, you piece of s**t," she shouts. "You f*****g emo wannabe,"

She storms past me, knocking her shoulder against mine hard enough to make me stumble. I turn around to watch her storm out of the auditorium as a stream of vulgar Spanish curses escapes her lips. I laugh when she disappears.

No one has ever reacted to me that way. They sure as f**k have never raised a finger to shut me up. Not that I'd allow it. I pick up the pages and organize them the way she had them. On my way back to the dorms, I stop at her locker and put the combination in. The inside of her locker is bare. Only her textbooks sit in it. I place the notes in her Biology book. It's her first class so she'll see them right away. With one last glance over, I shut the locker and put the lock back on it, making sure it's secure so no one steals her notes.

"Emo wannabe," I say out loud. I must admit that the insult stings a little. Another thing I've never been accused of. A wannabe.

"I knew I'd find you here," I turn around to see David walking my way. "Breaking into lockers again, Danny?"

"Just returning something," I shake my head.

"Is that the new girl's locker?" he smirks. "Did you hear?"

"What?"

"Her dad kicked her out. If the Dean finds out they might pull her from the scholarship program," he tucks his hands into his front pockets. "Shame. She plays an amazing Clair De Lune."

"You should hear her Moonlight Sonata," I smirk. He smacks my back as I walk past him.

"Kelly sends her regards," he holds up a couple of nickel bags. I smile, taking one and tucking it into my pocket.

"When did she stop by?" I ask. Why didn't she f*****g come looking for me? -Is what I really want to know. When something is up with Ashley, she usually comes to me with it.

"She told me you were being creepy in the auditorium," he laughs. "She didn't want to interrupt,"

"She wouldn't have been interrupting s**t," I lie. Kelly is the absolute f*****g best.

"Hey, I'll stay with you tonight. We'll smoke a little. Listen to some music. We'll go to bed early. I'm right here," he reassures me.

"Thanks, David," I agree. "That sounds good. I don't think I can be alone right now,"

"You're not alone. You got me. You got Kels and Rudy. Tony is back,"

"Yeah? When did he get back?" I ask.

"This morning. Jesus, you've been out of it, Dante. You spoke to him at breakfast," he laughs.

"I was high as f**k at breakfast," I admit. I don't actually remember having breakfast this morning.

"You need to get her out of your head, Danny. If you're not going to move in, forget her. She has enough s**t on her plate, man. Let's not add to that. She has a real shot at getting the f**k out of this town."

"What does her mom do?"

"f**k, Dante," he shakes his head. When he sees I'm serious, he reluctantly tells me. "She owns that little Mexican store on Graham and One Eleven,"

"Take care of them. I'll add money to her account in the morning."

"Hey," he grabs my arm. I look up at him. "She's just some girl. What are you doing?"

"Do as I say, David. I'm tired. We'll talk about this later," I brush him off.

If anyone else grabbed me like this, I'd f**k them up. But David is harmless. Well, he's human. My human. I wouldn't exactly call him harmless because I've seen him give into the darkness inside of him. It's not as demanding as my demon, but he's not exactly innocent himself. He is, however, a good person. Thank f**k for that because one of us has got to be.

"I love you, man. You know that right," he releases me.

"Yeah, I do,"

"I hate to see you like this over some nobody,"

"She's not some nobody, David. Don't call her that."

"You don't know her."

"There was a time when I didn't know you. Look at us now," I cup the nape of his neck and pull him close. I brush my lips against his very gently. He closes his eyes instantly, becoming breathless. "There's no need for you to be jealous. There's more than enough room in my heart for both of you. I want to stay away. I swear to god, I want her as far away from me as possible, but I need her. I need her so f*****g much it hurts. I want you two to get along. Yeah? She'll be ours,"

"Ours?" he scoffs.

"Ours, David. We're a package deal, dumbass," I remind him. He puts his hand on my wrist and pulls it away. I let him.

"Okay. Whatever you want," he nods.

"You don't think she's pretty?" I ask.

"She's gorgeous," he nods. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. She has that look in her eyes, Danny. No one is ever going to be good enough for her. You're just entertainment for her until she gets bored with you,"

"That's the thing about me, David. I'm not a boring guy. If entertainment is what she wants. That's what she'll get,"

"You're f*****g nuts. Let's get you to bed, asshole. We'll talk about this when you're not almost falling over from sleep deprivation. I have a recording of her Claire De Lune. See if that helps."

"You are the absolute f*****g best, David," I laugh. He sighs heavily, giving me an annoyed eye roll when I throw my arm over his shoulders. "Thanks. I owe you. Whatever you want,"

"You are definitely tired as s**t. You're being a f*****g delight," he quips. I did stay up all weekend for the band and the photo shoot.

"She accused me of being nice," I scoff. "Can you believe that?"

"No," he shakes his head and laughs. "I can't believe you actually talked to her. It's so unlike you."

"I made her throw her notes at my face too," I confess.

"That sounds more like you," he smirks. "Try not to get carried away. That one might actually have the balls to take a shot at you,"

"Don't I f*****g know it," I agree. "She's perfect."

"No more coke for you. You're being f*****g weird," he rubs my back. He's probably right.