I own nothing to do with SVM and True Blood. I had an idea where I wondered what it would be like if Eric was a homeless man- but with a few secrets of his own. He isn't a vampire, but he isn't entirely human either. He is a supernatural creature (Fairy).

There will be lemons (not the edible ones) in this story, angst, and romance. I aim to update twice a week, but sometimes life gets in the way.

If you would be interested in more, feel free to let me know. It would mean a lot to me and give me incentive to continue. Some characters might be OOC, but really, its necessary. Hoping you will enjoy!


Come out of the things unsaid, Shoot an apple off my head,
and a trouble that can't be named, A tiger's waiting to be tamed, singing

Confusion that never stops, The closing walls and the ticking clocks,
gonna come back and take you home, I could not stop, that you now know, singing

Come out upon my seas, Cursed missed opportunities
Am I a part of the cure, Or am I part of the disease?
Singing, you are (home, home where I wanted to go).

-Clocks, Coldplay


There was just something about the walk from my Grandmother's house to work and back that I loved, and enjoyed of an early, brightly lit morning, and dimly lit evening.

I didn't know whether it was just the homely atmosphere of nature and the humidity in the air that I loved most, or the way that Cicadas tended to greet me through the looming trees lining our yard as I strolled down the cracked driveway in my Nikes on my habitual walks. Or maybe it was just the itty-bitty fact I liked breathing in the fresh air and the way the rising sun hit my skin. While it took me a bit over half an hour to get to work at Merlotte's, where I waitress at, I revelled in those quiet mornings and late afternoons by myself. The walking definitely had paid off; First week I started, I noticed my shins feeling firmer, my thighs tighter, and that I felt more energized about being on my feet all day at work.

As I crossed into the parking lot, I saw him again; He was a complete stranger to me, and yet I felt I knew him almost.

He was always there to greet me pleasantly of a morning, and bid me goodbye of a late afternoon. He definitely made me give myself a firm tap on the butt on acknowledging whenever I was down, that I had plenty to be grateful for, and that I shouldn't take anything in my life for granted.

He sat there crossed-legged on the pavement at the heart of the entrance of the bushy road that led up to Merlotte's parking lot, where I worked daily; His hands clad in holey, fingerless gloves, the baggy black and white flannel shirt that he wore literally everyday I saw him, and those tight, denim jeans, with tears and grass-stains in the knees. Clearly, he didn't have much money to afford to buy himself many sets of clothes.

I didn't know his name, no less anything about him at all, but every time I walked on by, he would always give me a stoic smile. He had become almost a pleasant, familiar face to see of a morning before I started my shift, and afternoons, when I finished. He would always nod at me, and grin, each and every single time I passed him, bearing a set of straight pearly whites.

There was just something about him that struck me as a little inspiring and that smile was infectious to me; Here he was, a man who looked a bit older than me in age- and I was twenty-five- he was clearly suffering, and homeless, and yet he still felt he had something to smile about, no matter whatever misfortunes life had presented him over the years.

Sometimes, on my lunch break when I decided to take a step outside and sit on the bench out back, I would spot him sitting there in the trees, rummaging through the bulky duffel bag he had slung over one broad shoulder. Sometimes, he'd appear perfectly content, sitting by the trunk of the tree aligning the lot, and he would be deeply immersed in a book he was reading.

Other times, I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him. Merlotte's was a busy well-known place around Bon Temps and we served the cheapest liquor in town for miles, which meant we wasn't short on customers coming in during their own lunch breaks and buying themselves a big round of beer to quench their thirsts during the lunch hour.

As with anybody, if you drink too much alcohol, you tend to get more cocky and rowdy.

I couldn't even count on one hand, the amount of times the poor guy got picked on when one silly drunkard decided to give him a hard time, because they were tipsy and had liquid's courage on their side. Others just stared at him, and - similar to me- felt thankful for their lives and quietly let him go on living the way he was without a hassle. Some as they passed him even felt very generous and tried to give him a bit of money- which, much to my surprise, I would see him decline and never accept. He would thank them profusely for the offer, yes, but it seemed money wasn't what he wanted. He probably needed it, but he appeared far too stubborn to accept.

He never begged for money, either. He just seemed content with sitting around and watching people go about their business in peace. It was unusual for a homeless person, to say the least.

This morning, I felt cheerful as usual when I spotted him through the winding bushes, when I started down the corner at the rocky path towards Merlotte's to start my usual eight o'clock shift. Something about seeing him tended to do that to me, I didn't quite know why. He was a hot topic for me at home with Gran; I was unashamed to admit, I gushed about him all the time. Seeing him always tended to change my perspective on my own life.

I felt my usual bright smile for him stretch into place as he gave me a nod in acknowledgement.

Something about his wide smile and that chin of his had a way of making me jittery inside. I hadn't taken notice of how fast I was striding in my trainers, or that I usually should be more careful when I walked down the steep path towards Merlotte's, and before I knew it, I was slipping and sliding on a loose bit of rock and gravel, hard. I yipped and let out an Unchristian-like curse word, as my backside collided straight into the ground roughly. My butt ached and twanged with pain, and I could definitely feel a bruise coming on and some stiffness later tonight.

"Ow, crap," I laughed out loud to myself. I had to laugh about it, despite feeling my cheeks flare with heat over having an embarrassing incident right before Mr. Homeless Man's eyes.

Halfway through lifting myself up, and sliding back up onto the heels of my trainers, Mr. Homeless was jogging over to me. "Jesus, that looked painful. Are you all right?"

I pushed back the stray tendrils of blonde hair that had broken free from my loose pony-tail out of my eyes, and peered up at him, shame-faced.

It was then I took notice of his face more clearly at a closer range, and, boy, was he handsome. He had to be over six feet and counting, I estimated, and considering I only reached halfway to his chest, it seemed a correct guess to make. He had thick blond hair; a bit scruffy and unkempt that several tendrils fell into his eyes. His eyes were lovely; a clear, dark blue that regarded me over my embarrassing fall anxiously. He had a strong arched nose, and his chin was unshaven. He tore off his fingerless gloves, and stowed them away hurriedly into the back pocket of his jeans, like he felt touching a woman with them was impolite. A pair of large hands with scratched knuckles settled in front of him warily, hovering halfway towards me just in case I needed his assistance.

It was quite kind of him.

"Oh, I'm just brilliant," I laughed, working hard to keep the big grin on my face and to appear carefree as I possibly could in front of him. I tried to ignore the blood gushing to my backside over the hard hit to the ground, and brought my hands behind me to brush the bits of sandy gravel sticking to my work shorts off. "Here, it was. My bit of excitement for the morning." All I could do was try to make a joke out of it and pray he found it humourous and endearing of me.

A thick laugh bubbled up in his throat, and I thanked God then that he had a decent set of humour on him.

"You sure you're all right, now?" he said, showing his genuine concern for me. It was awfully sweet of him. "I watch you walk past here everyday."

"Oh, I know you do," I laughed again, feeling a little shy.

"The name's Eric, by the way." Incidentally, I felt my eyebrows rise over the initiative he had taken to introduce himself to me. I felt mildly happy by that; Now he wasn't just Mr. Homeless with an attractive and inviting face. He was Eric, with the attractive face. He held out his right hand to me, and I hesitated before shaking it. He had a rough and calloused texture to his skin, and his hand almost swallowed mine whole. Manly, rugged hands, as my Gran often refered to them as. A hard-living man's hands, and Granny always believed if a man's hands were like that, he was a man worth paying attention to. "And you are?"

"Sookie." He laughed again at that; His eyes crinkled in disbelief. I got that all the time, though. People often deemed my name ridiculous. I had well and truly gotten used to it by now, surely. "Before you say anything, I know what you're thinking!"

"And just what exactly am I thinking?" His hand was still clinging strongly onto mine. I was starting to think he wasn't ever going to let it go, but then he cleared his throat, and released mine after a beat's worth with an awkward scrape of the tips of his fingers.

"You're thinking my name's weird," I said, confident on that. "I know it."

"Not at all. I do believe its an unusual name, I admit." His eyes ran over my face carefully. What a way to make a girl flustered. "But then again, you don't look like an ordinary woman to me."

"Oh, now. What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, with a smile to show him I was simply teasing.

"Maybe if we see each other again, you'll find that out." Now he was playing with me. He surely knew we saw each other twice a day in passing.

"Maybe we will." I was grinning so hard, it felt like my lips were about to split apart. It was crazy. This man sure knew all the ways to make a girl smile.

We faltered into an awkward silence for a bit. I stared at him, unsure of what to say, and he stared back. Magnetic, were those eyes of his. I never knew a man could make me feel so giddy.

"Oh, crap," I breathed, angry in myself a moment later, when I remembered I had some place to be. "I've really got to get inside now. My boss will be angry. Maybe you'd want to..." I faltered uneasily for a second, unsure of whether to ask him or not, without him getting offended. After all. I didn't want him assuming I was feeling sorry for him or anything of the sort by appearing too over-helpful. "Maybe... if you get hot sitting in the sun out here all day, you could drop in and I'll get you a cold and refreshing drink on the house?"

I almost wanted to swat myself on the head violently, because I could tell so next, he misinterpreted that badly, just like I was fearing.

"On the house?" he repeated stiffly. He crossed his arms over his chest, and he gave me a sharp look with those eyes, effectively putting me in my place. I squirmed underneath his stern gaze. I just knew he'd take it badly. Something about a man's precious ego, and all that jazz.

"For your kindness in helping a girl out, I mean," I clarified, eager to rectify the situation. "As you've probably noticed with some of our provocative customers, you don't get too many kind fellows willing to help a girl out without trying to crack onto her afterwards."

I could tell my words were doing no good to ease him. I had hurt his feelings irreparably. Obviously, he got touchy with things like that. It was a sensitive thing for him. I made notes not to offer him things free-of-charge in the future, and that's if I haven't actually wounded him enough to make him disappear from his usual place.

"I've got more than enough money to buy my own drink, thank you very much," he said, on the defensive.

"I never meant it like that," I whispered up at him earnestly, aiming to appease him. "I just meant-"

"I know what you meant, Sookie." The way he said my name, in that harsh, low tone, sent a shiver up my spine. Why was even him saying my name, while he was angry, turning me on right now? Clearly, there was something wrong with my brain and how it functions.

"I just meant by it that maybe it would be nice to get to know you some more," I said desperately underneath my breath. Honesty seemed to be the trick to appeasing him completely, though I felt idiotic admitting it to him.

He seemed surprised by that. His fair eyebrows rose. "You'd like to get to know me?" He sounded shocked. Why was that so surprising to him? It was beyond me.

"Yes." I was very pleased my voice matched the sincerity I felt within.

"Then I suppose I could allow it, just once."


"Perhaps not today, but another time." Surprising me, he reached out and took my hand in his. It dawned onto me that I quite liked the way it felt with him touching me. It was crazy; I didn't even know the man at all, and yet he was stirring all these strange feelings out of me. "Your name suits your personality, Sookie," he said gently, eyeing me seriously. "It fits you. You are one-of-a-kind."

I felt deeply moved in him telling me that. How sweet. "Think nothing of it, Eric." I lifted my hand and patted it over his. He winced a bit, and it occurred to me it was his bruised knuckles that were doing him some pain. "Something happen here?" I asked, running my fingertips carefully over the swollen mounds of knuckles on his hand.

"It's nothing a few day's won't heal up good," he assured me, with another one of his nice smiles. Then, he let go of my hand and turned abruptly to his habitual place at the side of the road. He reached down, grabbed his bulky duffel bag, and threw the draw-string swiftly around his neck. "Fuck it. Lead the way," he said determinedly, as he walked back over to my side again. "How about that drink then? And besides, I'm curious to see what it is you actually do in this place that requires you wear that outfit." There was a playful glint to his eyes.

I laughed, feeling happier than I've ever felt in weeks, surprisingly. "Oh, trust me. It's definitely not stripping, if that's what you're thinking!"

"Well, considering how small those shorts are, that would not faze me at all if it were a part of your job."

I knew he was just teasing me, and surprisingly, I found I quite liked dirty jokes.

And, though I hardly knew this man, I liked him all ready. I found him charming and delightful. And, truth be told, I couldn't wait to be getting to know a whole lot more about him.

So, what did you think of the first chapter? I had fun writing it, it is something different to write about. Hopefully you'd be interested in more also? Feel free to let me know!