A/N: I haven't been satisfied with my own writing lately, causing be to rewrite like a thousand times, which is why some of my works such as Heaven on a Landslide, Cometh the Hour, God's Other Half, and Heavens Away haven't been updated in so long—because I always feel so disappointed reading my own writing no matter what. This is probably just an author thing and readers enjoy an author's writing more than the author does their own (I think).
I've decided to just stick with what I have and just publish it. If I'm not satisfied, maybe my readers will be, idk. Sorry if it disappoints.
Here you go:
***
The café's lights were low, a mellow spill through the windows into Laterano's slumbering streets. The day's usual bustle had dwindled down into distant footsteps softly pressing on cobbled roads. This was the quiet and serenity Aldana was enamored with after a long day's work.
A small bell jingled as the door opened and a familiar figure stepped in. White-haired and slumped shoulders, the one she'd kept an eye on since he'd been a boy.
"Ah, V. Late again." She smiled, coffee just below for a sip. "You look... rough. Did the girls drag you through the whole mall again, or what?"
"They did." V traveled and set his book on the front counter, propping his cane against a tall stool. "Whether that explains my state is another matter." He took a seat.
"Oh, quit being coy, you need to toughen up." Aldana shook her head, amused. "When I had my little romance troubles back in the day—"
"Please." He cut her off with a dry breath. "You've articulated that story twice already..." he drawled out, "of you and that 'remarkable' man."
"Twice? Only twice?" She tutted, each tut accompanied by a shake of her head. "See how forgetful you are. Remarkable man couldn't keep his hands to himself, that's what I said."
"Couldn't keep his hands—?" V's lip twitched. "Rest assured, I don't intend to develop into that sort of man. To be a philanderer is far from my desires."
"Tsk, I hope so." She took another sip. The coffee's bitter warmth suited her more than any sugary concoction in Laterano.
V watched her patiently, fingers tracing along the hardcover of his book. That golden 'V' writ on its front always amused Aldana in some way she found inexplicable. Must've been the fact it was the origin of his chosen name; even if it were merely one single letter.
"Soror Ava used to call you unsociable," Aldana continued in nostalgia, leaning on the counter. "Now look, six kids have come here asking for you in the last few months, five of them girls, if memory serves right."
"For an audience, hm?" V's expression softened, distant for a moment. "Federico was one, I recall... who else?" He arched an eyebrow.
"Arturia," she finished. "That steel boy's cousin. Shame she had to go back to Leithanien. That man, Marcello..." Her voice grew more sour, shaking her head. "Can you imagine sending a child abroad alone?"
"Marcello?" V's voice went flat. "I have nothing to say about him."
"You don't need permission to gossip, V." Aldana tried to brighten the mood with some humor. "I'd expect you'd have an opinion. Arturia used to play with you, after all."
"It's not that I don't have an opinion." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, a small, tired moan escaping his lips "It's... I don't deserve to speak for a father."
Aldana watched him, frowning.
His mouth had thinned in an enigmatic manner.
She set the cup down and folded her hands.
"How were the orders today? Nothing too mad?" he asked, shaking her from her worry.
"Nothing I couldn't handle." She shrugged.
"If need be, I'll pull an overtime shift."
"A bunch of pretty girls is better for your health than overtime," she teased.
V ignored the jab. "I can see why Fiammetta loses her head over Mr. Pozzo." He hung a leg over the stool, the joints of his worn muscle creaking.
"Oi, I'm only winding you up." Aldana reached across the counter and gave his shoulder a tap. "But, on another note, why don't you have some coffee before bed? You look like you could use it."
"I'm not staying up." He loosened his collar with an exaggerated sigh. "I've given too much of myself today. No point being deathly sick tomorrow."
"Ghoulish. Such a gloomy way to say it." She smiled despite herself. "Learn to enjoy a cup any time, V."
"You're worse than those sweet-toothed Sankta," he grumbled.
"Tsk, wounded again." She clicked her tongue at him, amused.
"As you should be." He stepped off from his seat with a lithe step. "Good night, Ms. Aldana. I grow weary."
"Night, V. Don't forget to catch up on sleep this weekend, yeah?"
"Prayers I do," He murmured it low enough she barely heard.
***
Sheesh, feels weird constantly seeing people with animal features. Think I'd look like those Liberi if I were humanized? Griffon asked.
V stepped inside of a darkened room at the café's rear. It was his room. With a drift of his right hand, he felt the snappish flick of a light switch turned up. The entire room became illuminated, causing the white-haired man's eyelids to flinch. His irises felt as if they had been punctured.
"You may. Perhaps if you could disguise yourself like other Demons," V responded, using his thumb and index finger to caress his closed eyes.
Eh, too bad only Kitty can do that amongst us, Griffon despondently said.
"Are you forgetting somebody?" He set his book down on a hardwood table, whilst he hung his cane on a protruding ligneous hook.
Oh right, Nightmare too, Griffon corrected. But I doubt he'd be smart enough to even attempt it!
V humored his Familiar with a hum, before taking out a phone from his pocket. His lips turned into a frown. He checked his message logs with Lemuen in recent times, small conversations during the time he had gone out to search for the disguised Demon he lost the phone number of.
"What'd she say? Anything new?" Griffon asked, peering out from his shoulder half-manifested.
"Nothing thus far." V shook his head.
The conversations were as normal as can be. He even asked the pink-haired Sankta if she had gone outside her house, and she replied with a, 'I haven't stepped out at all since you left. Why do you ask? Miss me already? :)'.
V didn't know why, and he was sure it was illogical to discern from behind a digital screen, but the message didn't seem quite sincere.
"Can't believe we lost the napkin..." Griffon groaned.
"An unfortunate turn of events..." V noted himself, clicking his phone to turn off.
He tossed the device onto his bed.
It would be a lie to say he wasn't at a loss on how he could have misplaced such an important item. He began to intermittently pace in his room as a result, with no rhyme nor reason behind its patterns. The room was somewhat cramped, disallowing much range of motion for his frame, so he continuously walked back and forth.
"Any idea when that could have been?" V asked, arms crossed, a hand cupping his chin. "When I lost it."
"Nope. I can only see through your eyes, y'know?"
Neither could Griffon feel what he felt, so his sensations were exclusive only to when he was summoned. The more he deliberated, the more V felt a sense of forbearance churn in his stomach.
"We have a wolf amongst sheep... Do you think the 'waitress' will be back at their station by tomorrow's eve?" V asked.
"Chances are they'd just go for a different disguise," Griffon grumbled. "That's how they are. Don't always stick to one unless they're one stupid piece of work."
Was he overthinking a great deal? V had to ponder to himself the current prospects. More innocent lives were at stake if he didn't put a stop to that Demon.
"...There's no point in reflecting about this much longer," V sighed, massaging his forehead. "If I see the waitress again, I'll go straight for the killing blow."
The statement elicited a surprise from his Familiar.
"Even in public?!" Griffon squawked.
He marginally winced at the raise in octave. "After I lead them to a secluded area."
"Oh, alright. Good. I thought you were planning to look like a total freak!"
"Keep your voice down." V shushed his Familiar, motioning toward his closed door.
"Ah... right, right," Griffon hushedly said.
A moment came as they both stared at his door, as if awaiting for Ms. Aldana to knock and ask inside what all the fuss was, and if he had a friend over. However, their predictions were unnecessary as no such event transpired afterward, leaving V to breathe a huff of relief.
"I need rest."
***
Lemuen stared at the ceiling from her bed.
Her sleeping mask clung against her forehead as she hadn't pulled it down, the darkness of her room illuminated only by her Fluorescent Light and her radiant wings. By her beside was her Patron Firearm, loaded with a new full salvo of bullets.
She held a black cat plushie in her arms—a gift from V he procured during a Lateran carnival—eyes still fully peeled open.
Her windows were sealed shut with their blinds fully lifted downward. For once, she didn't feel safe with having her blinds out of the way, a fear she had long since abandoned during younger years.
V...
Lemuen had received and sent messages to the white-haired man, which they replied to one another with their usual responses. They confirmed he was at least safe.
Although she was glad that he was safe after returning home, the thought that if she hadn't given into her impulses and stolen that napkin he had in his hand was... terrifying. If V had been lured by that dreadful creature, then, then...
She hugged the plushie tighter.
Laterano didn't feel as safe as she imagined it.
In her thoughts now tumultuous, she shook her head with vehement fervor to regain her senses and act furthermore with clarity.
Against Lemuen's own current indecisiveness, she kicked off the blankets draped over her. The weight was off. She began shuffling off the bed and walked toward her study desk, a lone laptop lay sleeping in its inactivity.
She pulled a pink swivel chair back, before settling atop it. Lifting the laptop frame up, she clicked the power button, faint fans whirring from within its body. It was the only sound she was exposed to for a moment as she tapped her index finger incessantly atop her thigh, waiting for it to fully power up.
A functional, gleaming screen was bestowed before her thereafter, the artificial blue lights reflected in her pink irises. She typed, fingers moving swiftly, gaze never once drifting from the textbox where she inputted words. With a click on 'enter,' she leaned in closer.
Until she deleted the textbox, typing again, and again, and again.
She searched, 'Creatures that disguise as humans,' 'Liberi monsters,' 'Fowlbeast monsters,' 'Sarkaz folklore,' 'What is a Nachzehrer?,' and 'Monsters,' in sequential order.
Lemuen wondered if she was the only one who knew about that creature, if she was alone in matters relating to what she had experienced.
Clacking
Results came up useless or unrelated to her worries continuously. She felt as if the room was tightening with each search.
Clacking.
The walls never felt more claustrophobic in her life. She was alone truly in this matter.
Clacking.
The light of the computer was her only companion throughout the night while she scoured through forms and articles on anything that could've explained the strange phenomenon she witnessed. Minutes bled into an hour, before that hour then splattered into hours. It expanded, further and further, until...
Lemuen fell asleep atop her desk, arms cradling her head, a lone laptop screen shining distantly upon her.
With it, her mind came wandering in the realm of dreams.