here is gone


Dru turns to look at him, her eyes earnest, her face familiar. "My mother… how well did you know her?"

Christophe wants to sigh, wants to walk away, wants to reach out to her. He watches her, his expression not betraying a thing. "Too well."

Too well to forget her, too well to not see her in her daughter. Too well to not hate Dru for it, just a little.


Dru makes Christophe regrettably… human. She makes him want all sorts of useless things. To touch her, to hold her. To see her smile. Even something as silly as to be able to talk to her for hours and hours, really talk to her, to tell her things that he has never before revealed about himself.

He hopes that, if he ever does, she will listen, and see how huge a gesture it is on his part. He hopes that she will care.


His reason for staying in the light should probably be more substantial, more credible, than a skinny little girl with false bravado and her daddy's eyes.

But Christophe sees her, her set expression and delicate collarbones, and he hears her, her unembarrassed Southern drawl and this-shit's-about-to-get-real tone, and he feels her, her hands and hips and eyelashes, and he thinks—

What could be more important than this girl?


Dru is incapable of seeing the big picture, and he can't help but hold it against her. Of course he's left her in the past—but for the sake of protecting her. He knows it hurts her, knows that she has issues with abandonment, but…

He will leave her again and again, over and over and over over over, as long as it will save her. As long as she will survive, and they both live until a time when it isn't necessary.

He will keep breaking her heart in the hopes that one day, he'll have a chance to put it back together.

I meant to have five snippets, but grew bored. Such is life.

Disclaimer: I do not own Strange Angels. (I always try to write Strange Angles... )