Rebellion

Chapter 10 ~ Irn Bru and a Cigarette

Chapter 10: Irn Bru and a Cigarette
~

Someone had placed clothes for me over the armchair in the corner of the room while I slept. I was glad, I didn't want to spend anymore time in my grimy joggers and oversized top. I sighed as I thought about all my belongings, my clothes and books. I wondered if the council had destroyed my flat, or had simply left it as it was...

The broken window I had jumped out of and my broken down door would be noticed soon, if it hadn't by now. No doubt my things would all be packed away and the flat fixed before a new person moved in.

Another weary sigh left me.

Stretching, I pushed those thoughts from my mind. I could hear movement downstairs and the occasional muffled voice of Atanas or Padraig. Una had yet to make an appearance and I wondered if she was even still here.

Begrudgingly, I shoved the warm covers off of me and stood, stretching once more. Bones popped and I made a contented noise. Taking the clothes from the seat, I happily changed into the jeans and lacy gypsy top, feeling much more clean and fresh, even if my hair was still a little greasy.

I hadn't slept well. Atanas had haunted my dreams and I woke hot and restless. Lack of sleep and a craving for more of his blood had left me feeling like I was hungover. Standing in front of my reflection, I wished I had makeup on hand to hide the dark bags that circled my silver eyes. I needed to make myself feel more alive and I knew exactly what to do...

Irn Bru and a cigarette, the hangover cure.

Running the silver-plated brush from the dressing table through my hair to tame blonde locks that stuck out in every direction, I gave myself a nod. I was a little nervous about going downstairs, especially as I didn't believe the self proclaimed "safe place" was really so.

"You're in a mansion in the middle of nowhere with vampires you barely know, a witch that doesn't like you and the Vampire Council most likely wanting your head on a spike; it's just another Friday night." I told my reflection.

With new found resolve, I spun on my heel and made my way out the room. I was once again captured by the paintings on the wall and took my time reading the dates carved into the frames.

The images of Jacobite soldiers with claymores in hand and kilts that flowed behind them as they ran the Highland charge towards the line of Redcoats were my favourite. These were paintings of my time, a time when I was human, it brought a warm feeling to my chest.

My heart quickened at the sound of Atanas' voice drifting up from the living room and I had to steel myself again before taking the stairs.

Atanas and Padraig were lounging on the fancy sofas, both looking equally as regal as Kings on their thrones. Padraig grinned over at me, waving me in.

"Good evening, Shylah. I hope you slept better than this grumpy ass did." He chirped, moving so I could sit next to him.

Atanas rolled his eyes and muttered something I couldn't catch under his breath. He did look a little tired and his hair was more than slightly messy. I wonder what could have possibly kept him up, if maybe the reason I tossed and turned all night was the same as his.

"I slept well, yes. I've never been in a comfier bed." I replied lightly, the lie slipping easily from my lips as I  studied Atanas.