&&‘La café pâtisserie magasin’

[Rose Decumbry]

Attire

She was away once more. The beautiful orange skies setting low over the other side of the town. Time for her kind to come out and prowl. New York was such a high end place too. If you didn’t look, walk, talk the right way, you were out. Even if you had the money, talent, beauty. That’s why she praised herself for looking good every god damn day of the week. Her Burberry trench coat hung open, tied only at the waist, slimming the already narrow. The halter dress hung like magic against her pale and milky skin. Sunglasses hid her identity, or at least most of it. The Prada clutch was in her coat pocket, jingling with noise of coins. Something else she didn’t do regularly. Change, her face skewed up a little bit. She had just gotten done signing a deal with Dior, a two-year contract too. She loved Dior, really she did. She ran her fingers through her square bangs and sighed, stopping at a four way crosswalk. People looked at her oddly but she kept her eyes forward. She had gotten used to the feeling of being watched lately.

All she wanted to do was be with Tyson.

Feel his eyes on her, taking her in. Drinking her essence. His hands gliding over her, not touching one hundred percent though. He was magic. Perfection. And extremely handsome. His long face, those brown eyes. His hair. His toned body. Everything about him. His polite ways. Manners. He always knew how to make her laugh. Twinkle her eyes. Bottom lip sticking out, eyes lowering. She missed Tyson. She wanted to just be held in his arms. Securely. Safely. Wanted and loved.

She bought blue hues up to her destination. ‘La café pâtisserie magasin’ French for, Coffee Pastry Shop. They were exclusively known for their delicious pastries, but were awful expensive too. They only spoke French too. Luckily, Rose had taken several languages in Boarding School. She waited in a slow moving line, but smiled sweetly when her time to order came up. “Sorte de petit pain rond au lait et une élevé rapide à une coup de cannelle, merci.” A scone with and a tall espresso with a shot of cinnamon. Yum. She slid over a gold plastic card, and signed. She awaited her order, like a patient, normal human being.

She took her little snack, and took a corner table, one meant for only two. She slipped slowly, nibbled quietly. She wasn’t a big eater, she liked to stick to a more ‘normal’ diet. Blood and muscle diet. She let out a sigh over the boiling drink, and watched the Café.

[Ali Ambrose]

Either she was dreaming or she was dead. And since the second option didnt seem very likely she was guessing at the dreaming one. Ali was little again, maybe five or almost six, her dark curls heavily bouncing against her back as she giggled. Her sister was off with her mother and she was here in the piano room with her father. Mother and Katra were off shopping. And even though he would never admit it, their father loved Ali more. She was the petite little one. She had her little hands on the side of the piano as he played softly. Her favorite song to. She herself knew how to play but she loved to watch her parents play more. Her mama was far better but even her father was very talented. All she ever wanted to do for the rest of her days was watch them play. Golden rays of light shafted in through the large double french doors in the sunroom where the piano was located. And it made golds dance in her hair and reds in her fathers darker locks.

When the song came to a close he turned to her and smiled, cupping her cheek with his larger hand and tenderly brushing aside her hair from her face. "I love you cher." He said and smiled. Ali's little chubby face lit up and she nuzzled his hand almost like a cat. "Remember that Ill always be here for you ma petite." Then he got up and left to go to the dining room. Maman and Kat were back and so they needed to set up for dinner. Little did the tiny girl know..this would be her last dinner with them as a family....'Ill always be here for you ma petite.' The older, vampire Ali startled awake from her perch on a park bench. She had been laying there, under the shade, waiting for the sunlight to go down. Of course was wearing long sleeves and pants to protect herself but there was a tank top underneath the sweater. She panted slightly, the nightmare and memory haunting her.

Her fingertips grazed across her cheek and shudder passed through her small frame. She could still feel her fathers lingering touch. Still hear his warm voice. And she had to bite back tears. That promise he had made her had been broken that very night when the vampire attacked. And she would never see her father or mother again. Sitting up with a sigh she groaned and rubbed her eyes. She never could have a break. And of course, thinking that, it started to rain. One of those bone chilling New York rains. "Shit!" She muttered and tossed off the sweater and left it there on the bench and then got up and walked away from it. Her pace started slow at first and then picked up with each store window and restaurant she passed. Until finally she was running and the tears streaming down her face were hidden by the rain. Only the smudged eyeliner and running mascara could give her away.

Her footsteps pounded against the sidewalk as she blurred past people and they didnt even realize she was there. And thats what she was good at. Being invisible. But eventually she hungered for something warm to take her mind off everything. Slowing down so she could see the store names and such she noticed a little cafe. It was a French one which made her heart ache all the more as she saw the familiar writing. Her native tongue in all reality. But she walked in, looking like death itself and shook on the doorstep to get some of the water off of her. But all in all..She looked like a drowned rat. And her mood was not a good one. A teenager poked at her and she growled and glared at him, making him back up in fear. She really was not in the mood.

[Rose Decumbry]

Rose wouldn’t allow herself to dabble on memories. Mot of them were painful. Most of them were spent in a Boarding School. She brushed the thoughts away, and focused on the drink in front of her. She stared at it, before bringing it to her lips slowly. Hues were covered by lids quickly, the warmth of it was welcoming. Loving. A thought quickly popped into her mind, causing her eyes to fly open.

Buy a yacht. Yes. It was such a good idea, to buy one. She already had a private jet..a yacht wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it? Seriously! Who wouldn’t want a yacht? So many people wanted one, but couldn’t afford it! She could more than afford it. And all she would have to do was buy one off the ship market. Goody for her. Rose usually went through this routine, often. Whenever someone didn’t love her, personally. Didn’t want her around.

She bought toys. She bought her private jet, when…when he died. Now she wasn’t feeling close to Tyson anymore, and it made her feel…alone. Hence the need for a yacht. She set the drink down to massage her temples. A getaway to a spa as well would be perfectly fine. Maybe a week or two. Sighing once more, she caught a familiar scent through an exhale. Her dear and near cousin Ali. Eye lifted behind sunglasses, and she waited for her to cross her path. Her scent was coming this way.

She seemed to be fucking everything up lately. Put herself in a burn center for three months, blew up on Ali at a shoot, almost killing her boyfriend..fiancé probably by now. She couldn’t do much besides take a pretty picture. Buy clothes. Shop. Spend. Fuck, anything in her wardrobe wasn’t under a hundred dollars. Simone could inherit the money. After all, she had put her in her will only a month ago. Odd. Having someone you distantly knew, move into your house, like a long lost sister, or brother. But it made the house feel warmer, fuller. More human. Rose was fucked up. Probably the most insane person by far in the states and countries she’d visited in her life. Combining the insane asylums as well. What was wrong with her? Maybe a trip to receive a beating from Sevanni would set her straight. But it’d make her on the chopping board.

Sevanni would already be pissed by the fact, that his henchmen had fallen head over fang for her. So not interested though. Her fists covered her mouth now, head resting in them. How was Sevanni? Moping about his Coven house? Plotting a revenge for all to see and gush over? The scent of Ali passed through the shop, walking into it. A puzzled expression cast itself over her face. Poor teenager. She smiled a little bit at the thought, and the site of Ali having a fierce side. Really, it was. Something that rarely happened. Looking at Ali, willing her to catch her eye, she stared at her. She wouldn’t take of the sunglasses. Like expensive clothes, they were her security blanket.