“What do you think?”
The Count set the glass on the
table. He narrowed his eyes at cup like it had just insulted him. Josette
watched as he pushed the shot away.
“I think you’re trying too
hard.”
“You use to like it when I tried
hard.”
His lip turned up slightly for a
moment. It was the rare smile from the devil. The hundreds of years they had
spent together it had only been seen maybe four times. She felt truly blessed.
She pulled the shot towards her and finished it off. Waste not, want not her
mother would have said. At least she was pretty sure someone’s mother probably
said it, once, maybe.
“I thought you were quitting the
hard stuff?” he said, giving her a scrutinizing eye.
She gave a slight sneer at the
empty glass, “I thought you weren’t?”
Things hadn’t always been this
way. There had been a time when they were gods or maybe monsters, or maybe both.
Once there had been no need for such niceties as glasses, no use for the subtlety
of human games, but that time was long ago.
“You’re clinging to the past,
Josette.”
The past?
She could remember it to the
beginning. The very first day still clung newly to her mind.
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