15THE VAMPIRE GIRLFRIEND DIARIES
Chapter Eleven: What Else Is There?
Part One
"There is no room where I can go
and
You've got secrets too"
The Present Day
"Whatever I'm keeping from you, I'm doing it to protect you."
For once in his life, he wants to be the one that does it.
"I never needed you to protect me."
As if he doesn't know that. It was always the other way around, and that's what stings.
"You do now."
That is the truth, and that's all Michael should know.
"Is it them?"
It's just a deal with the Devil.
"Stop asking me things."
Because he might actually give up and answer.
"Is it the Fathers?"
A deal with the Fathers.
Paris.
So she took his hand and asked "Do you regret it?" and he said no and really, really meant no, but that didn't mean that there wasn't a deep pain in his chest, a pain as deep as that horribly red gash he had left on his brother's chest. It was a mixture of everything, that aching, of guilt and fear and sadness and the terrible awareness of an "end", the end of his life with them, the end of his bond with Michael, the end of whatever love they still had for him. It was the definitive stroke, it was the final nail to the coffin of a brotherhood that was long gone, the nail that he had hammered in himself.
She took his hand and made all thought disappear, but that didn't mean that he would be able to look at that hand the same way ever again. It had almost stolen his brother's life away, and even though he hadn't been there to see with his own eyes, the blood bond he shared with the boy was strong enough to torment him the days Michael had been fighting for his life. He could feel it, he knew everything. That's what happens when you feed on someone for a hundred years. Cassian, so many miles away, trapped in a boat to France, had sunk to his knees when Michael in London had started seizing, he had covered his eyes with his hands when he sensed that his brother had completely lost consciousness. He had stayed awake just feeling his brother twisting and turning as he swam through nightmares he couldn't escape from and had almost cried –he hadn't cried for years and that time, God, he had almost wailed- the exact moment he felt that Michael was out of the woods, that he would live, after all. He feared that Celine would call him a weakling, but his beautiful maker had been strangely understanding, meaning she had stayed out of their cabin for as long as it took him to calm down, every time Michael's health took a turn for the worst.
In time, especially after they arrived in Paris and Cassian was sure that Michael's heart was returning to its normal pace and no longer struggling for a beat, Celine's hand in his slowly wiped clean, or more accurately, covered the stain of what he had done. The memory of it, and the guilt that tagged along, took longer to leave, and perhaps it never really left, but it was only barely there. The time would come when he would no longer feel it.
She was true to her promise of a new life and of new sensations. Paris was nothing like the cold, damp, gray London, it had nothing of its dullness and hostility. It was another kind of enemy. They wouldn't be hunted there by silver bullets, but Cassian was no fool, he knew that town was dangerous as well, its peril came from entirely different sources. It wasn't the danger of being caught, but of getting lost, of surrendering control. It housed countless beasts in its shadows, vampires and shapeshifters, werewolves occasionally passed by and even pixies were rumored to inhabit it, but the greater beast of them all was the city itself. Cassian couldn't really put to words what he felt about that place, whether it was fear or awe or hunger but he could at least comprehend that Paris was like this velvet red wine, beautiful and sinful, deliciously shameless and shamelessly delicious.
There was a family there, as she had promised. Helene, Gregoire, Fannie, Stephane, Noir and Blanche had been waiting at the docks the day their ship arrived to France, cloaked and silent. The six members of the Deboucheau clan –her clan- welcomed and accepted him without needing any reason to do so. They took it for granted that Celine's creation would live with them, would hunt and feed with them. They never demanded to know about his past or his intentions, they had only asked Cassian his name, and that was all. That made Cassian feel that, unlike his human siblings, these people didn't want him to restrain, explain or change anything. Because they understood everything and perhaps they'd help him understand it too. He wanted to learn from them, wanted to learn whatever they could teach.
Celine was different in Paris, better, if that was even possible. He understood now what she had once told him before, that she was a part of this place and that it made her stronger. He could tell in the way she walked and talked and touched him that she was lighter, there was no burden on her mind now, no companions to miss anymore. She was so at ease, so free there. He fell in love all over again with that side of her, and let it take away all his troubles, he allowed her to step inside him more than she had ever done before and once she did, there was no place for anything else. In time, he forgot. Everything and everyone, time and place before she appeared had all become a blur of shapeless events, words and faces that no longer mattered. He would have normally felt ashamed. But sometimes he could trace in Celine's eyes the same intoxication, the exact same love that he felt for her, and that made it all worthwhile. When she kissed him with eyes shut and left the taste of blood in his mouth, he knew he couldn't be happier.
Yes. For the first time…in his life maybe, he was happy.
Of course, there was also the blood. It would be a lie to say that it didn't take him a while to adjust to the other vampires' perception on feeding. He had been so used to the shame that Michael and Heather had imposed on him, that the first time he hunted with them and saw them feeding, he was more than shocked, he was nearly repulsed. They took lives. The thought of not draining the human didn't exist in their universe, and when he explained that he had been feeding off the same boy for a hundred years, always, always, so very careful not to harm him, they had laughed. Blanche had even ran to him, and kissed his forehead, muttering through her giggles "You poor, poor darling," and he wasn't sure if he should be ashamed or amused. It didn't take him long to understand their code. Human lives were there to take, men and women were nothing but feeding vessels, at least the common ones. Special humans, meaning the beautiful, the powerful and the talented ones, were looked upon as delicacies. Noir and Blanche chased after the artists, and Stephane had a weak spot for failed poets, the scribblers. The more ignored they were by the public, the more he lusted after them. Fannie and Helene went for the strong, important men, and as for Gregoire, anything would do as long as it had a pulse.
As for his maker, Celine loved feeding off the rich and beautiful, that was her vice. She would stalk them for weeks upon weeks, sometimes just enjoying the sight but also gathering information about them, small, intimate details. And then she would subtly step into their lives, befriend them, charm them. Most of her targets –regardless of sex, age or origin- fell for her in the first few days. She didn't even have to try. It wasn't like many individuals –human or vampire- were immune to Celine's charm (had Cassian cared to remember, he would find that only his brother and sister hadn't fallen for her). But even after her pray had been caught, Celine would keep on playing. She was patient, she waited, and waited and waited, until the human would come to surrender all defenses. And then, the beating heart left in her hands, the life orbiting solely around her…she'd end it.
Sometime's he'd wonder why she hadn't ended his life that lost night so many years ago. He didn't remember anything of it, just a kiss filled with blood. But he was sure that he hadn't put up a fight, he had been just as helpless as the rest of her victims, his life bare in her hands exactly like theirs. Still, she hadn't killed him. She had kept him alive. Not breathing, without a pulse or a working heart, but technically alive.
Why had she chosen him?
The question was persistent and tormenting, but never uttered.
And so her blood-stained kisses slowly, slowly made him forget that as well.
The Present Day.
My phone rings.
And I turn into a fucking ninja to get it.
No, don't laugh. I swear I went from the kitchen to my bedroom in less then five seconds, and they're like, at opposite sides of the house. I must have left skid marks on the floor and I'd be surprised if there isn't a me-shaped hole in the kitchen door right now. Oh, and when I got to my room I jumped over my bed and flawlessly landed on my desk chair, grabbed the cell and, well, then I lost my balance and landed on the floor on my ass.
The "hello" I squeal answering the phone is absolutely embarrassing and I hear him laugh at the other end of the line. I try to think of something funny/clever/cool to say, but all my ninja-ness has flown out the window. Plus my ass hurts. So I just bark "What?!" and squeeze the phone tighter, pressing it to my ear. I haven't talked to him in a week. It's my fault because I ignored his calls for a few days –I had a fucking vampire situation, ok?-and then when I called to apologize, he ignored mine. Cody and Max, waging Phone Wars.
"You didn't have to run across the house, Max. I wasn't going to hang up until you answered." I can still sense the smile in his voice, and I'm relieved that he's not mad. I hate it when he's mad.
"Thanks. I mean… I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I'm sorry, ok?"
"You should be. What happened?" Oh. He's cutting to the chase, isn't he? No inquiries on my health or anything.
"What do you mean?"
I hear him sigh in exasperation as I get up off the floor and rub my lower back. There's a small pause between us, filled by the sound of our breathing. If he's waiting for an answer, he won't get one. I am perfectly aware that I can't tell him anything. I wish I could. There's no one I would rather tell. "Come on now, Maxxie." I know what he means and he knows I know what he means. "Why are you keeping secrets from me?" I cover my eyes with my hand. Cody's very good at making me feel guilty, even though I don't think that it's his intention. "I know that there's something wrong, but I won't be able to help unless you actually tell me what it is." This stinging guilt combined with the actual need to blurt everything out to him is clouding my mind. I sit on my bed, take a deep breath and then fall back on the mattress.
"What if…" I start and I take another breath, trying to create the rest of the sentence in my head. I want to tell him some fragments of the truth, for my sake mostly, I have to admit – I always ran to him for advice, and God knows I need it now- but at the same time make it harmless. I can't expose the vampires, and can't have him thinking I'm nuts. "What if you met some new, um, people… And they sort of told you, or like…showed you that you're…"
"You are what my sister was, Max. You are a Healer."
"…something. I mean, something weird, and you really, REALLY didn't like being that something, because, well, you know, it scared you, but you somehow…sort of, uh, knew you were that something and that they were right… What I mean is, what would you do?"
I stop and wait for his answer. I'm not sure if anything that came out my mouth right now made any sense at all. I'm not good at this, and I wish that he would just dip inside my brain, locate my troubles, understand them and then just give me a solution to everything.
"Maxxie…?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you trying to tell me you're gay?"
Paris.
"Kiss me."
It was only a whisper, but it woke him.
There were two things he was instantly aware of the moment his brain left the haze of sleep, even without opening his eyes. The first was that the sun had set, and the second that the body hovering over his, the hair tickling his collarbone and the finger's tilting his chin upwards, weren't Celine's.
"Kiss me…"
The palm that set itself on his cheek, the pink lips that teased his own and the cat-like tongue that tried to pry into his mouth, weren't Celine's. Even though this wasn't Celine, kissed back, gently, without opening his eyes. He felt the other person smile against his mouth, and he smiled a little too. "Do you have to do that, Blanche?" he asked as she pecked his lips once more. "What would Noir say if he knew you creep into my room demanding kisses?" Blanche sighed and climbed off of him and the bed.
"Noir knows," Noir's low voice reached Cassian's ears. "Noir was in the room all along." He opened his eyes and saw the boy sitting at the edge of his bed. Blanche was on his lap, her white arms tied around his neck. They were both grinning at him, their fangs exposed and their eyes devious. "Noir wanted to be the one to do it, but he thought you'd get mad." Cassian raised his eyebrows, shooting Noir an annoyed glance, "Noir is so thoughtful, isn't he?" he groaned rubbing the back of his neck with his fingers. What was that? What did they want this time? So many years with them, and he still had such a hard time figuring them out. The rest of the clan had been relatively easy to decode. Stephane was odd, Gregoire greedy, Helene quiet and Fannie vain. Still, he liked all of them, but with Noir and Blanche, it was different. Not only he was absolutely unable to describe them with one word, he wasn't sure what he felt about them either. Perhaps it was the fact that they were pretty young when they were turned (neither could possibly be over fifteen years old), perhaps it was the ambiguous relationship between them (he still wasn't sure whether they were lovers or twins), or perhaps it was just their faces or their weird names that made him feel uneasy in their presence. It wasn't like he feared them; they just…gave him gooseflesh sometimes. "You are one twisted pair, you know that?" They laughed and kissed in response.
"What are you two doing in here, anyway?" It wasn't like he wasn't used to them sneaking in his room at all times, this time there was a particular glimmer in their eyes that made him suspicious. "You're meeting with the Old Ones today, aren't you?" Noir asked, as Blanche nuzzled his neck and playfully bit his ear. Cassian didn't fail to catch the slight annoyance in the black-haired boy's tone and the disrespect in his words. Old Ones was a degrading term. "You mean the Fathers," he corrected him, mainly because he wanted to toy with Noir's nerves a little. Noir snorted and Blanche chuckled onto his neck. "The Fossils is what they should be called!" he shouted angrily at Cassian, who merely smiled at this unexpected display of emotion. He hadn't seen Noir angry many times in the past. "Those damn things!" the boy hissed "They reek of old age. I wish they would just die already." The way he practically spat these words out impressed Cassian. He had always known that Noir wasn't fond of the Fathers and never really cared to find out why. But this overflowing of emotion, so unbecoming a vampire, so unbecoming of Noir…
"I thought you were supposed to respect and fear them." Cassian said plainly, and awaited Noir's reaction. Blanche, willingly trapped in Noir's arms, tsked and glanced at Cassian condescendingly. "When they're around, yes." Noir nodded and opened his mouth to speak again, but before he had the time to, somebody interrupted him. "Doesn't that make you cowards then, Blanche?" The girl's white curls whipped Noir's face as she turned around to face Stephane, who had suddenly appeared at the door, his slim body leaning against the doorframe. He looked at her with calm blue eyes, some sort of mocking smile hidden in their depth, some sort of kind emotion as well though. He moved his eyes from the girl to Cassian and greeted him with a small nod. Cassian did the same –there were never many words between them.
"You're one to talk, Stephane!" Blanche sneered, piercing the other vampire with her coal-black eyes . Cassian noticed that Noir's fingers that had been simply resting on her waist now tightened their grip on her, and he sensed this was a warning, a say no more. But she continued nonetheless, ever raised the volume of her voice a little. "You wouldn't even dare appear in front of the Fathers now, would you, Steph? You, their favorite trinket, in love with-"
"Enough."
Stephane didn't have to raise his voice at all. Blanche's sentence was cut short to forever remain unfinished. Her gaze turned from fiery to ashamed and moved from the young man's face, to the floor and finally to Noir, who, after making a failed attempt to frown at Stephane, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed her to his chest. She buried her lovely face in the crook of his neck and whimpered.
"It's time for the young ones to go out and play." Stephane ordered, and the peculiar pair left the room the moment he said it. Cassian smiled at his friend, who met his smile with narrowed eyes. "She is a hundred years old and still acts like a child," the look on his face said. Blanche's words had angered him. "You made her cry," Cassian remarked, but didn't utter what was the truly impressive part of it all, Stephane had made her cry without really saying anything. The tone of his voice had been reprimand enough. "The way you control her… One would think you are in fact her maker, and not Noir."
Stephane took those words in with a small humming sound, and then, after closing the door behind him, walked to the window that was near Cassian's bed. He stood there, looking out, for a few minutes, and then let his thin lips break into a smile. "I don't think Noir would ever be able to control her, do you?" Cassian shook his head, and slowly, lazily got up. "He will indulge her in everything." Just like he would Celine, even though it wasn't exactly the same, Celine was his maker, and not the other way around. "He thinks she's perfect," Stephane whispered, still staring intensely out the window. Cassian wondered why, it was just Paris, the same Paris as always. He replayed Blanche's words in his mind "…in love with…" Could it be that Stephane was in love? More so, was he in love with a human? That was what that crippled sentence hinted. Unless he was in love with a were… Which would only make matters worse for him.
"Have you fed?" Stephane's low voice removed him from his thoughts.
"Hm?" That was out of the blue… "I have." A young woman with wavy brown hair. Even though he hadn't bothered to glamour her, she hadn't even put up a fight; she was so scared of his teeth. Her taste had been rather plain. Dull.
"Good. Because some of the others might have their pets with them. I don't know how long this stupid trend is going to last, but until it passes, you'd better not look at their humans like they're dinner." Cassian nodded and started unbuttoning his shirt; he had to get ready for their meeting with the Fathers. That trend Stephane was talking about was a relatively new thing among vampires. Having a pet meant glamouring a human and keeping them alive for the sole purpose of feeding. The constant glamouring would, in time, ruin the human's brain and they would eventually get drained and die… or the vampire would simply grow bored and kill them, but for as long at the human was breathing, they were the vampire's obedient pet, following the vampire around and feeding off the vampire's hand. It was all rather humiliating. "Isn't that what you did with that boy, Cassian?" haughty Fannie had asked one day, and he had growled that it was nothing like that. He couldn't be sure, he didn't remember much, but he was certain that he had never glamoured that boy, that boy whose name only just escaped him.
Cassian took off his shirt and tossed it carelessly on the unmade bed. His eyes traveled to the other vampire's back. He had long black hair and a delicate frame. He always wore light clothes, not being fond of the ruffles and the bows and the numerous layers of fabric other men sported. Cassian, forgetting the need to get dressed for a moment, let his mind wander off again. "Do you want to take a pet, Stephane? Is that what you're thinking about?" If only he had the courage to utter those words. He was wildly curious, but somehow tongue-tied at the same time. If Stephane really loved a human, which was rather unlikely, taking him or her as a pet would be convenient. Being a vampire's donor extends one's lifespan. And if Stephane loved the human enough, he could even give them some of his own blood. Vampire blood was the best anti-aging, anti-dying elixir.
"You have questions." Stephane interrupted his thoughts again. He didn't turn to face him yet, and it was slightly unnerving, not talking to a face, but to a head of black hair. "I do," he replied and at that, Stephane turned towards him. His expression was that of mild melancholy. Because he was an old vampire, his expressions were all very soft and he was in general very detached. That was why him being in love seemed nearly impossible, he couldn't muster enough emotion to fall in love.
"When you first came here… you fit in because you were quiet. You never asked questions about us." Cassian didn't know what to say to that, because he didn't know what it was, a simple remark or a warning. "We are a queer lot, Cassian," Stephane went on making Cassian's dilemma unnecessary "But I suppose being with us for nearly a hundred years, you are entitled to a few questions. What do you want to know?" A hundred years? It didn't seem that long in his head. Ten, twenty perhaps… He now understood what Celine often told him, vampires can't help but lose track of time as they grow older.
"I want to know about Noir and Blanche," Cassian lied. The burning question in his mind concerned only Stephane, but he was afraid to ask it. "I want to know why they hate the Fathers." However, he did want to find out about that as well. He was going to meet the ancient vampires for the first time, and he didn't want to be caught off guard. "Don't be afraid. The reasons why they speak like that about the Fathers are entirely personal. They never accepted Blanche's existence, you see."
"Why?"
"Cassian, when you get there, they will ask questions. If they don't like your answers, they will reject you. They might even decide to end you. That is what happened with Noir and Blanche."
Cassian had known there would be questions, but no-one had told him that his life was at stake. Worry curled like a snake in the pit of his stomach and it must have shown in his face, but Stephane kept looking at him coolly. "What happened with them?" Cassian asked in a demanding tone. "That's what happened with Noir and Blanche" just didn't cut it, it was too vague. I'm tired of your secrets.
"He turned her in his first vampire year. They thought it was too early and rejected her." This wasn't the kind of long narration he would have wanted, but it was an explanation nonetheless.
"Why?"
"They said that he wouldn't be able to control her."
There was an unspoken observation in Stephane's eyes right then, they were right, and Cassian agreed in his mind. Blanche was uncontrolled in every sense, in her feeding, in her hunting, her demands and desires. "Do you think I should be afraid?" Stephane's brow furrowed and he didn't reply instantly. There was no ready response in his mind. "Celine has many secrets," he murmured after the pause.
Cassian flinched, the small sentence felt oddly like a personal attack, like it was insulting his maker, calling her a liar. It wasn't like he hadn't thought the same thing, it wasn't like he hadn't asked himself questions and worried about what she had done that he didn't know… It was just that he didn't want to hear it.
"Well, so do you." In love with a human, speaking in riddles…
Stephane took in those words with what seemed like a sad smile-but who could really be sure with that man? "That's true," he said, and quietly left his spot near the window and walked past him. "You should get dressed," were the last words he said before leaving the room and closing the door behind him, but Cassian didn't hear them. All that echoed in his mind were secrets, secrets, secrets, and the awareness of how deeply they could harm him.
The Present Day.
"When is it?"
"Next Tuesday."
"I'll be there."
"Cody, come on."
"Shut up. I'll be there. Bye."
I hang up and glance at Shar who crosses her arms against her chest, but doesn't say anything. She notices my flushed cheeks –fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm such a girl- and smirks. "New Haven on the phone?" she asks, keeping the same expression. I glare at her. "Yeah." The twins shout and wave their hands at us, jumping about and crumping like crazed monkeys. Juliette is stretching on the floor as always and Sheldon is going through his CDs. Chen is lying on the cold, dirty tiles, drinking KoolAid. "What are you so happy about?" she asks and then immediately turns around and screams "PERRY! Get that lazy ass idiot off the fucking floor and start WARMING UP!" At the sound of this I instinctively drop my duffel bag and sit on the floor and start stretching my left leg–it's a matter of personal safety, you don't want to get Shar mad at you right now. As she keeps shooting lightning bolts through her eyes to Chen who is whining and reluctantly getting up, I pretend to be entirely focused on the task of stretching, yeah, stretching is great, stretching is my purpose in life, just don't start yelling at me Shar 'cos I don't think my eardrums can handle it.
So, stretching.
"So…? What are you so happy about?"
"Huh? I couldn't hear you, I was…"
"Stretching, I know."
She almost growls at me and I give her a wide smile. Isn't it ridiculous that I'm afraid of my friend? Aren't friends supposed to evoke positive feelings like safety and not make you fear for your life?
"Tell me!"
"Ok, fine!" I cry out, giving up. She puts her hands on her waist, reminding me intensely of my sister when she wants to scold me about eating crap. "Ugh, don't get mad, k?" I start, tugging at her sweats pleadingly. "He's coming to the battle." Her eyes widen.
Oh. Crap.
"New Haven is coming to the battle."
"Yes, Cody is."
"Which means you'll be completely unfocused and waving at the fucking audience like a five year old in a fucking school play." She uses "fuck" a lot when she's pissed.
"Come on Shar! When have I ever done that?" I did once wink at him at the end of a routine, but that was ages ago and I bet it had nothing to do with us coming fourth in the competition. The fact that I almost tripped in the middle of the whole thing did, however.
"You can't even focus when we're dancing here and you wanna bring your tango partner, best friend, boyfriend or whatever the fuck he is to MY battle? What for, so you can spend the whole time DAYDREAMING?"
She goes on and on and on about the same thing gradually her voice is reaching this scary volume that would even make Cassian's knees wobble –wait, how did he get in my train of thought? Anyway. I bet she would scare the hell out of him. Maybe I should bring her with me the next time I go to that house. Michael would find her amusing. "Why do you have that stupid face on?" Her voice abuses my eardrums and I realize that thinking about the vampire brothers gave my face a really weird look. I'm almost smiling.
God, I need help. I'm thinking about the vampires like they're my friends or something.
"Shar, honestly, I'll be focused. I swear. I did every impossible move you asked me to, didn't I?"
That's true. I rule Lollipop now, if Lil' Wayne saw me, he would give me his rights to the song. Ok, not really, but at least I don't suck. I'm not Chen the Dance God, but I don't look like a spazz trying to dance anymore.
Shar points a finger at me, but before she gets to say another word, she is lifted off the ground. Isaiah has grabbed her by the waist and he is now carrying her on his shoulder to where the rest of our dance crew is. He's really strong. He turns around and winks at me playfully, and I give him a silly thumbs-up. "Calm down, sis!" he laughs, patting her head in a way that we all know she hates. "Don't waste all your screams on Max, Perry and I are really going to suck today."
"PUT ME DOWN!" she yells kicking and squirming, but he just pats her head again and spins around with her on his shoulder. Sheldon runs to me and offers a hand to help me up, I take it with a grin. "You lucky bastard," he pouts, pulling my hand and dragging me to the others "My boyfriend won't come see me at the battle." I put my arm around his waist and squeeze him tight. "Well, my boyfriend isn't coming either," I smile and he shrugs. "Details."
Eventually Isaiah does put Shar down, and she yells at all of us and says we're all idiots and that we are going to blow it at the battle and that she should just go dance and win on her own because we're worthless. But at some point she stops, looks at us and bursts out laughing and we do too and then we turn on the stereo and everything is ok.
So I just forget about everything for a little while, forget about my best friend who wants to know, the vampires and the Healers, the two small wounds on my neck, the confusion and the secrets, the secrets, the secrets.
A/N: …but just for a little while, because who can really forget all about the secrets, the secrets, the secrets?
So, guys, what did you think of this chapter? It took me a long time to write it because I wanted it to really just be…the way it had to be. Also the truth is that a while ago I received really negative criticism on my writing and I was stupid enough to let it affect me. It sort of gave me writer's block, but here you go, that's over now.
I'm sorry it took so long to update, and I'm sorry if this chapter is confusing, or boring, or I don't know what else. I hope you like it, because I like it. So please, like it? I know, I know, I'm shameless.
Please forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes and typos... I know I make them. Can't help it. Sorry...?
About Paris. New faces there, I hope they weren't too much to take in. I am particularly fond of Stephane, I was thinking about writing a separate story just about him, but we'll see. I like Noir and Blanche as well, because they're just so creepy.
In the next chapter we'll finally get to meet the Fathers and see how the hell did C+C's (Cassian and Celine's) perfect relationship get screwed up and oh, find out some of the secrets, the secrets, the secrets…
Thanks for reading. Leave a review if you wanna, me likes reviews.
Oh, and no, Maxxie's not gay.
:P