And all the things I couldn't say

Today was not the best of days, but he made the most of it. It was night time. He was walking down the street back from his job. He managed to get off early so he could get his papers graded. The life of a teacher and the life of a bartender competed with him for their attention. Sometimes he wished he only had one job, but then he realized he had to support his sister on top of it all, so he realized he had to work as much as he could for her. He would wage war against the world if it meant she smiled back at him at the end of the day. She was his everything, his world, and a constant pillar in his life. He walked along quietly, eager to get back to his room so he could get comfortable and read papers by his students who he was sure hadn't read the material provided. The Scarlet Letter, in his own opinion, was one of the more interesting books he was told to teach. Soren found the puritans outright rejection of something that in the modern age is considered normal to be an interesting contrast in view points. Modern age verses the olden days. Soren's age made it so that he lived so far into the past that he could clearly see the distinct differences in the views of then and now.

He made his way downtown, walking fast, minimal faces past and he was home bound. Home was a relative word. Wherever his sister and him resided, that was what he calls home. "Home is where the heart is," or something like that, right? Soren figured it would be the best time to take a quick detour in Times Square as he stepped out of the club doors not that long ago. The streets were empty this late at night, nobody wanted to be out on the streets much at night. Soren liked the night time. It brought him peace and comfort to his aching heart and mind. He lost so much, but he also gained it all back eventually. He was almost relaxed as he walked, finally letting himself ease into the mindset he couldn't let himself fall into usually. He always had to act the part of a teacher or just a professional bartender, he could never act like just a man who felt as old as dirt sometimes. He was just about to step out in the street when a familiar scent caught his nose; it wasn't a good scent either. It smelled of death and blood. He could remember the scent from his past, but he couldn't place the name with the scent. He clenched his teeth as he made his way towards the familiar scent. However, it brought him to someone he had hoped he never would have to meet again; and if he did meet this girl, he would have the pleasure of tearing her apart limb from limb.

"Children shouldn't play on the streets so late at night," Soren said, not caring if he sounded like a creeper or a stalker. His brown eyes were even as they then leveled on the small blonde child in front of him. She haunted his nightmares, his body ached with the vengeance he wished to wreck on her, and all of his instincts for this child told him to run away as fast as possible. His hands balled into fists in his suit pants pockets. He always wore suits. Today he didn't wear the jacket so he just wore the pants, white shirt, and black and red suit vest that went with it. He wore his hair in a ponytail today. "Well well well, if it isn't the devil herself." Soren muttered with annoyance and hatred coloring his tone.

And all the things I couldn't say

Her attempts to act the part of a child didn't work on him. He found that just her acting so innocent burned him to the point that he didn't agree with the tiny voice in his head that said 'don't do anything, your in public'. However, the more logical part of his mind pushed harder and due to his age, he finally listened to it. 900 years old and this old man was beginning to turn to mush if he wasn't careful. Soren wasn't in the mood for running into his past tonight. He wasn't at all happy about running into this child at all. Memories floated into the man's mind of the woman whom he had fallen in love with. She was human, and looked every bit as beautiful as the sunrise in the mornings he woke up with her. She was his sun, his light, the reason he got up in the morning after 500 years of living. He wasn't immortal in the least, but his life, barring disasters or sickness, was a long and lonely one if he didn't find others with such long lives like his. But there is where Soren hurt himself over and over again. He loved the race that had the shortest lifespans. Humans. He longed to be human just like them so he too can live life to the fullest and love, screw, drink, laugh, play, work, cry, and do all that and more just like humans. He did all that, but his days went longer, and more than not, he watched as friend after friend died around him. However, he couldn't stop himself from letting his heart want what it wanted. Soren would forever break his heart over and over again for the sake of just wanting to be close to the human race. In his eyes, they were the lucky ones. 

"My guess is your dad is dead, but then again, most of your kind doesn't have fathers to begin with." Soren couldn't help but mutter as he kept his distance, but stayed in front of her. He wished that it wasn't in such an open space, but then again, fate and karma sometimes liked to throw sticks at him. Vampires always unnerved him. He ran into the one that owned the bookstore downtown, but even with the man's pleasant attitude, he didn't trust him with anything. Then again, he always did have a great selection of books and was always open to buying in bulk so he could fill his classroom to let his students borrow them for class. Soren had mixed feelings about certain Vampires; which is easier to explain. Soren stayed exactly where he was. He knew how dangerous she was. She killed his lover in cold blood and soon after her sisters. The damned woman and her blood baths; quite literally. Elizabeth Bathory. A woman who seemed more vampire than she was human. He couldn't help but remember the strong smell of copper and the color red that day. "Save the childish display, vampire, I know what you are and who you are to me." Soren didn't like to beat around the bush. Often times this made him seem impatient when really...well...nope, he is impatient. Soren could feel his canines start to grow as he could feel the fox within want to spring out upon the child and rip her to shreds. The monster within wanted to show the monster on the outside. Stop it Soren, you are in public and even you can't lie your way out of this one if this turns bloody. Soren had a knack for lies, often getting him out of many run ins with jealous women and jealous husbands. However, even he couldn't lie out of this situation. "Why are you in New York? I thought I finally had my fill of you back in Europe?" England...was it England? France? Regardless of where it was, it was in Europe. He had hoped to never see her again if he could help it.