| Fan Fiction |
| By Lidia: |
| Heart Break on a Holiday |
| Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, and some of the lines are extracted from the book, I lay no claim to them. Rating: Its harmless, you decide. A/N: Not based on this Easter, I really don't want to figure out what year it was�but, even if I got the time wrong, or there is no way it could possibly be Easter from the way the book goes..it just is. Remember: It.Just.Is. Title: Heartbreak on a Holiday (1+2/2) *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "Louis, I want you to take me. Please, do as I ask you. Leave the interpretations of all my tales to me. Take me, Louis, look at me. Feel the blood in me, feel the heat. You want me, Louis, you know you do. You want me, you want me in your power the way I had you in my power so long, long ago. I'll be your fledgling, your child, Louis. Please, do this. Don't make me beg you on my knees." "No Lestat. I can't do it." --Louis & Lestat; Tale of the Body Theif *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Part 1 -- Louis' POV -- I wish I had. Easter can be such a lonely holiday. Truly, I dare think that if perhaps Lestat were not as angry at me, were to let me know that he had forgiven me, even if I did not see him this holiday, the world would appear a much better place than it did at this moment. Yes, Lestat was always on adventures, always with another, yet he still found a moment, a particular moment in time when he would come see me. Be it a small space in time on each holiday, I did not care, but I saw him, and I knew he loved me, still wanted to see me. Even if for but a few precious moments before he disappeared, leaving me the faint scent of his golden hair, or the invisible impression from the press of his lips. At least I had seen him, knew he still walked. Even my anger did not surpass my heartbreak at what he had done. So childish, yet what did I expect? For Lestat merely to forgive me at what he perceived to be an ultimate betrayal? I knew full well that he had made another fledgling, knew that David now occupied my old vacant position at his side. As I had mentioned, it is Easter, and I am alone, nothing can raise my spirits, not after the gloomy events that had caught hold of me this night. I hadn't expected, nor looked for a sign or word from Lestat signaling that he would see me. Knowing he was still angry, knowing full well that the nearly visible rays of hatred that probably radiated from him after each thought of me, had yet to cool. I had my doubts on his "undying" love for me being still in existence. Yet I knew that I had made the right decision, and perhaps, in time, Lestat may well see that what I had done was right. But now, I, the person whom had justified the action taken over and over in his thoughts, was now doubting the rightfulness of the decision made. The dried trails of spent tears still littered my cheeks in an almost pattern like fall. I hadn't expected a note, a message, a whisper, but I had received one. Upon walking into my apartment, run down and old as it was, I had seen a crisp, white note sitting atop my mahogany desk. He had said he was coming to see me. In short, almost jagged handwriting, as if he could show his emotion through his writing. I know it may sound stupid, or even petty, probably picturing me as a young school boy in love, finding that perhaps his crush didn't hate him as much as he believed�but I dressed for him. It would have to be a record for me. It had been so long since I truly 'primped' as Lestat so dearly calls it. I had woken as early as I can, for a vampire such as me, that could mean anywhere from six at night to nine. Depending on the destiny of the length of the day. Thankfully, the waning lights were gone at seven, upon which I was able to rise and feed as quickly as possible. I showered, dressed, brushed the ratty locks of hair that lay on my head, and took the most precious duties of waiting to see Lestat. Funny how we had seen each other all the time, he had seen me at my worst, and perhaps my best, yet I still took the utmost care in preparing to see him. And I wanted to see him. Even if the once great love we shared was gone, that did not mean that mine had faded. I admit to the passion I feel for him, if only to myself, I still admit it. I had stayed at my apartment, the note giving me the awareness that he knew where I occupied, that I needn't seek him out, if he wished to see me, he could find me. My thoughts wandered that he might bring his new fledgling, his darling David. I dreaded to meet him, yet I knew that the introduction would be inevitable in time. I had waited to see Lestat, running my hands up and down my trousers, self-consciously checking my hair to see if I looked alright. The slight snap of a branch or footfall had me jumpy and checking the window to see if perhaps my Golden Adonis had shown. Yet he didn't. Didn't come�all night. I thought maybe he hadn't much time, and that he would show. He wouldn't make my hopes so high and dash me into the ground so fiercely. Lestat could be cruel, but he wouldn't do that. By three, I knew he wasn't coming, knew I wouldn't see him. And the world seemed a much darker place at that instant� I used a bit of water to clean the trails of blood from my cheeks and pulled on a dull black sweater that lay over the side of a splintered, once wooden door. My shoulders hunched slightly as I walked out into the moist arm of New Orleans. The heat was weighing me down, yet I kept my sweater on, refusing to have the heat make me remove the garment I had just taken the energy to put on. Now, I know perhaps you wonder why I would feel so down. Only Lestat, playing his childish games. Paying me back for what I had done. Showing me that he had reigned in any love he felt for me, and perhaps this was just his way of telling me it was over without actually say the words. But the most painful part, was as I walked down the empty streets of New Orleans, at five o'clock on the damp morning, heading towards my home once again for my sleep, I saw him. Not one block away, laughing as he walked with his arm around the shoulders of what I presumed to be�my new replacement. I think he meant for me to see this, he wouldn't be as careless as to not sense my presence, even if it was just an empty space, telling him there was a fledgling afoot, he would have noticed. I do not think, I have ever felt such heartbreak, til this holiday. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~* *Very Short!* Part 2 -- Lestat's POV -- He had betrayed me, worse, left me, yet I couldn't hate him, didn't want to hate him. I still felt that aching love for him each time his name ran through my thoughts, which was every night, regardless of who or what I was with. And I wanted to see him. Mon Louis was a lonely creature, not so much lonely as unsociable, for he preferred to be alone, not particularly marking him as 'lonely'. So I told him I would come, wondering if he would dress for me. Or perhaps we were beyond that, I would have been merely glad to see him. The oh-so-beautiful face of my beloved. I just wanted to hear him once this holiday, and perhaps make my world a better place. Easter held no representation for me, yet I wanted to see Louis. An unwritten tradition. I came to see him nearly every holiday, regardless of the insignificance, I just did. And on this holiday, I did come, and I saw him, and it was enough. Enough for me. So beautiful, the moonlight shining off his recently washed hair. Sitting, edgy for hours as I peered so quietly through the window. He checked the door numerous times, looking for me. I was so afraid to face him, afraid I would say the wrong thing. Would I react angrily, or hold him and tell him I had forgiven him, I wasn't as angry as he thought me to be. I couldn't tell, and I truly didn't want to risk it. Yet I had his hopes up, he looked desperate to see me, yet I couldn't. I watched him leave his apartment, and I turned on my heel, leaving the block behind. I turned and stared back at his run-down apartment for perhaps an hour when I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. "Did you speak with him?" David asked softly, as I turned toward him. "Yes, but it was deadly boring, not nearly as fun as talking with you my friend." I said, laughing as I put my arm around David. And silently, my heart broke, for the ache of not seeing my love. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Never said I was a good author! Feedback good or bad! Flames accepted, :p-- Lidia Vans Anyone notice how many times Tom Cruise says "My Friend" in the movie, IWTV? He said it like twice, but so close together you'd think he was repeating it over and over! I have many peeves with this movie, but oh well. Fan Fiction Home |