The room was a notch above pitch black, and absolutely still. A solitary burgundy candle tossed uncertain flickers of light across the dark carpet and ceiling, situated alone on a cherrywood stand in the far right corner a few feet away from the desk where Eve del Fuoco worked passionately every day. The delicate, preserved scrolls of her people hung in careful order on the walls, ruffled now and again by a rogue breath of wind that rolled beneath them and made them ripple. The only thing out of place were the double french doors, which were cracked open just enough to lift the floor length curtains - all the other windows were shut, locked up tight - and the room remained silent and unoccupied. Keiko was sound asleep in her bed, where the lithe, oddly distracted Eve had put her to bed hours ago, and Kale.. well, Kale knew better than to disturb the peace.
The alluring glow of the inner city was still bright and deceptively attractive as always, pushing the pale watercolor of the moon entirely out of the competition. The hills stretched out in a massive ocean of beautiful firefly lights, a hundred thousand little effeverscent pinpricks against the cover of night. Such a lie. How could something so dangerous, so soaked with death, be shining like God's personal nightlight? Eve had been the guttering hand once that snuffed them out one by one. The monster waiting in the dark that grown men whispered about and mothers told their children tales of to get them to sleep at night. Everything deadly seemed designed like that on purpose. Damn, it was cold out. It was the first time she noticed her breath. The seasons were faltering the past few days, as they always did around this time, and the evenings were growing longer, filled with bitter cold. That's what happens when everything from nuclear to biological weapons are launched into the atomosphere - something always suffers for it - but this time it was them, adhering to the constant seasonal snaps. Summer, in full swing only a week beforehand, was fast becoming a lingering memory in the face of winter's onslaught.
Silver curls of exhaled steam whispered up into the air around her face, pushed past her lips with an exhausted breath. Perched precariously on the highest peak of the roof, just above the studys private balcony, Eve sat quietly with her knees bent and her back resting against the unused chimney. It flooded her with a sense of familiarity and lulled her shattered nerves. How could they have done something so disasterously stupid? The superfluous question was an answer in itself, but the rhetoric was something of a comfort at the moment. Everything was honed tonight, unlike anything she'd fallen to in the past few years, and she could hear, sense, feel, taste everything around her. The drowsy scent of Kale's drink, something of a rich malt liquor, wasn't lost to her, nor was the unease she could feel resonating through the entire maison. The clouds above her were waiting to drench her, she knew that too, and someone was walking up the stairs. Probably a servant having finished the rest of the chores for the evening, retiring to bed like everyone else.
If only they knew. Then again maybe they did know.
Suddenly she wasn't so unnerved by the fact that she'd found it so soothing to burn an entire building to the ground - suddenly it made her glow with anger that she hadn't done more, that because of this impression of her mother's genetics she didn't ground their flesh into the tiles and break every bone in those bastards bodies. Such a cost, now. Such a price. It felt as though the air itself were speaking to her directly now, handling her face like a patient mother and tousling her hair, spraying the loose tri-colored ringlets to all corners of the wind. It was chilly and she hadn't moved in hours. The alcohol wouldn't do a thing to her tonight, it just made her numb to the cold. It had been hard to see him. A lot harder than she'd imagined, though when she'd gotten his missive common sense was the last thing to her aid. The lights were blurred streaks in her night vision, obscured randomly by tendrils of dark locks snapping to all angles about her cold induced blushing cheeks. She was so tired of her eyes burning like this, her mind fraying at the edges.
How much time had been wasted? How many nights slipped beyond the reach of her fingertips as she counted back the conspiracies, the murders, the battles while the real world marched on like a soldier unwilling to stop for a fallen comrade? Now here she was again standing at a crossroad trying to decide between what she wanted and what she should do, pressured at all corners by no one but herself. Eve's face tilted to the land far past the cheerfully lit city, to the sprawling places high and low where she travelled the first time to this place, and the light of the moon caught the glisten on her face. Small silver passages winked where tears had frozen to her creamy skin and new ones forged their way through again. Eve was every bit as deceptive as the city around her - she looked every bit as beautiful and desolate as an angel cast off by the hand of God, when it had been her to forsake Him. And now who was she to act like His right hand? The one to stop the cycle of destruction, unite the people and make Earth an Eden to live on once again.
No one heard the door close behind her. Kale had not stirred from his position sleeping in his chair when she'd covered him with a spare blanket and neither had Keiko when Eve kissed her affectionately on the forehead and drew the covers up to her chin. The gift from her father was tucked in its normal place beneath her pillows. Outside the luxurious rooms of her home, beyond the imposing gates of the maison, the city was surprisingly quiet for once. Everyone who had a place to sleep was dreaming of the next morning while Eve walked through the streets. It had begun to snow with great fervor as she wandered leisurely along her way, and it blanketed every inch of space it could reach with shimmering, pristine white. It should have bothered her but it didn't. Filiments of glittering ivory clung like clusters of miniature diamonds to strands of her hair, and laced the dark fringe of her lashes and melted on her pale pink lips. Both of her bare arms were crossed over one another to hold her breasts in against her forearms in a half hearted attempt to ward off the bite of the wind, but the cerulean lustre of her eyes held the intoxicating haze of it all. A tiny moulded piece of metal dangled on a delicate silver chair around her throat.
The panes of glass all betrayed the same notion - the househouse, whatever that consisted of, had all turned in for the night. Probably quite some time ago. It was surreal standing there looking up at the place he lived with her replica. Graceful little eyes, predatory smile. The snow had, in turn, begun to cover her too before she briskly pirouetted on the balls of her feet and left at a run towards the sturdy side of the building. Effortlessly silent her feet collided with the brick and she used her momentum to push herself further before lunging up against the light pole standing outside the home - nimble hands latched onto it and she swung the slender, lithe frame of her body in an arc back towards the place again before letting go. Rocketing through the air she held on to the ledge of the roof with one hand, hovering against the side of the house. God, she knew it was him inside even through layers of mortar and cold and brick. Inside was drenched in darkness. Eve's free hand tried for the window which, she sighed with relief, eased open without making much of a noise at all. Both feet went before her as she pushed herself outwards, and she felt the bedroom floor beneath her as she crouched low with one hand.
Okay, maybe a soft purr of sleep, but that was it.
Odd that he was alone. No sign of the mini-Eve or even of another woman. Something about that relatively calmed the deathseeker's nerves at once. Then she realized that the last time she'd stood there watching him sleep it hadn't been because she wanted to see him - at least not in the same way - and she heard her pulse pick up in her ears as he rolled over onto his back. Still asleep. Some part of her didn't want to wake him up. This was perfect the way it was. No words, complications, or anything else to ruin it. Just him, sleeping away beneath her gaze. Then she heard him stir, as she knew he would eventually when her presence invaded his dreams, and she leaned lightly against the wall.
"You should keep your windows locked, you know.." Eve said very, very quietly, the vague remnants of humor betrayed by the tremble in her tone. "you never know who's going to just drop in."