be kind to my mistakes.

[Lukas Weber]

Another boring, still night.

The air was undoubtably chilly, Lukas knew, but only by the way his testosterone-fueled roommates were dressed. Many of the boys had switched from simple wife beater tanks and boxers to longer lounge pants not unlike the ones Lukas wore and long-sleeved shirts. Lukas hadn't changed much, of course. His pants were a deep-purple-and-black plaid, and his shirt was a nice generic and graphic band tee. Otherwise, it could be summer for all he cared. The tiny temperature changes of the environment hardly affected him... He felt somewhat cold no matter what. Maybe that was because he was dead...

No matter. His vampiric intuition told him that tonight may hold a good reason to stay awake. So for most of the night he had simply sat on his bed, flipping page after page in last term's charms textbook, trying to memorize the words. He could see perfectly well as the outside lights dimmed and eventually even the candle lights went out, but he cast a moderate Lumos to humor his roomies. But now that they were all peacefully asleep (lucky them) Lukas had resorted to not straining his eyes and settling with the sufficient amount of, well, moonlight.

And suddenly, there was that sound. The little rustling of a mouse, a thin, light mammal scurrying around... Downstairs. The common room. Had it really been so long ago...? Lukas immediately closed the textbook with a satisfying thump. Well, well, Miss Rose, he mused, a humorless smirk passing over his face. Nightmares again? He slid from his bed silently, fixed his hair into its trademark mane with a neat little flick of his wand, and then skirted the wood floor to the door. It opened quickly, noiselessly, effortlessly, and he ghosted around the staircase once again.

Deja vu, anyone?

No, wait, it was a bit different this time. As he neared the boundary between boy dorms and the common room, he heard her approaching. He swiftly cast himself into a nook behind a suit of armor. What if it actually wasn't Lola? Just around the corner could be a teacher of similar height and weight and body mass and unflattering stuff like that who only sounded like Lola. It was the worst time to grow a pimple on his flawless school record...

"Lukas!" came her voice, almost literally shouting up the staircase. So it was her! Jeez, might as well let in a troll... Nevermind that. He flitted out of his hiding place and down the last couple of stars, at her side in hardly an instant. Whatever-entity-existed, she was pretty. Nearly as pretty as he remembered... Just kidding. His memory was almost perfect in his dead state, and she was exactly how he imagined.

He reached out a hand to lay on her shoulder. She could pretend all she wanted that their first night truly "met" and the encounter in the grove was fake. But she knew it was real, and Lukas hardly slept, much less dreamt. Why didn't she just head up there and surprise him tactlessly in the middle of the night in a room filled with sleeping teenage boys? Well... That was probably the reason for the barrier. It was all right for women to visit men in the daytime, do whatever they want, but not at night. Oh, no... Not at night.

Mental rambling over, Lukas' other hand reached for the top of Lola's head, hopefully to stroke her soft red tresses. "You called?" He joked, a mischeivous smile in his eyes though his expression was quite serious. And then his whole demeanor changed from teasing to concerned. "What's wrong?" he said, leaning in a bit closer to whisper to her. He recognized the fear in her expression, normally wrathful or otherwise indifferent, the disheveled state of her hair that indicated recent rolling-out-of-bed activity.

Would she tell him? Could they share secrets again?

[Lola Rose]

If hope is a dangerous hole, will you join me?

The uneasiness of the nightmare still hung around her, and Lola found herself biting at her bottom lip not out of some old gesture but to draw feeling back into her numbed body, send the pinpricks of pain to her brain in a reminder: you’re awake. You’re fine. You’re standing right here. She leaned back against the railing of the stairs and watched Lukas emerge, her expression puzzled, not by Lukas’s appearance but by her dream, by the strange feeling of that dark, imagined city lingering before her. It was almost as though it was Lukas and Hogwarts that was the dream, and that any moment now Lola would wake up and find herself wandering through the dark streets again.

He came closer though, resting a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, and Lola frowned despite herself. It felt funny this; seeking company was hardly normal for Lola, but she shrugged it off anyway and looked back as he spoke. His tone was teasing, but she nodded nevertheless and waited for him to say something else. Maybe he would be annoyed at her for waking (or disrupting) him. Maybe he would leave. Whatever, she told herself. If that was the case, she could find something else to occupy herself for the time being. Or she could try and go back to sleep. She shuddered at the mere idea of it, and tried to focus properly on Lukas again.

He leaned a little bit closer and Lola automatically stood straighter, eyes narrowed to slits. When he spoke though, she slouched, surprised at the concern in his voice. Was anything wrong really? Of course nightmares were not exactly right, but they were not rare and Lola wondered for a minute if she was being too dramatic, if maybe she should’ve simply gone back to sleep. But, she reminded herself, she wasn’t coming to Lukas for comfort tonight, she was coming for company and he seemed more than happy to provide that.

“Nothing’s wrong really,” she said softly, pulling the strand of hair he’d been stroking away and behind her ear. “I couldn’t sleep.”

It wasn’t really as though she minded (not a huge deal, anyway) the small touches Lukas seemed to insist on – kissing him in the light of such distaste would have been hypocritical at best, but more ridiculous than anything else. It was the inherent, implied demand in them that Lola rejected; the implicit sense of possession and ownership. Lola belonged to no one, she thought, and no one would change that, no one could claim her. The idea of Lukas Weber trying, so typically male – a vampire, sure, but male nonetheless – made her smile despite herself.

Lola glanced down at the common room, checking again to see it was empty and quiet. Upon finding it was, she faced Lukas uncertainly, and asked, “Do you feel like talking?” Hardly waiting for a reply, she turned and stepped down the staircase, one hand sliding down the rail as she walked. The fire that was lit in the common room tonight crackled comfortingly, and Lola half-smiled at the scene, before slowly turning back to see if Lukas was following behind.

[Lukas Weber]

And if you look, you look through me,
and when you talk, it's not to me,
and when i touch you,
you don't feel a thing...

Of course she pushed away Lukas' attempt at compassion. It wasn't exactly a surprise... In fact, the German would be infinitely shocked if she actually allowed him to reach out to her. She was becoming more predicable. Unfortunately, Lukas hadn't been bothered to change. Well, it was always fun to persue the untouchable, right? There was no point in chasing after an easy catch. Lola clearly wanted to play hard-to-get, and Lukas didn't mind one bit.

She even tugged her hair away, though. The movement was subtle, but he knew the meaning behind it. "Nothing's wrong, really," she commented quietly, as if it was no big deal. He wanted to lift an eyebrow in skepticism, but refrained from doing so. "I couldn't sleep." He smirked at her, but it did not have a malicious will behind it. Clearly, he thought cynically, but he honestly didn't expect her to delve into her explanation.

Why? Because he just knew. It was so easy to just know. It was almost annoying...

"Do you feel like talking?" she asked, though it seemed rhetorical when she turned away to head back into the warmly-lit common. room, Lukas of course followed her. Whether she turned to see if he was there, he was keeping stride a quarter-pace behind her on her right side. Really gave a new meaning to right-hand man, right? He vaguely had a realization of his height in comparison to her, and randomly wondered why the red-head was so short.

Her hand had slid down the railing as they walked, and though he was sorely tempted, he resisted placing his own slim, cold hand over it. But... He predicted that she would definitely reject that. So he kept his hands where they belonged, hanging at his sides idly. Which was okay with him - idleness was lost on a vampire of as many years as he had, though he wasn't even that old of one. When they got to the actual common room itself, he passed her easily and hurtled himself over the arm of a couch to lay full-length on its leather upholstery.

Now that he thought about it, yes, he did want to talk. He chuckled softly. "I hope you were actually offering if I wanted to talk and not assuming I'd let you speak..." he said in good humor. His next statement was still light-toned, but the underlying message was much more pointed. "You probably wouldn't talk about yourself much anyways." He glanced over at her with a shaded smile, and then resumed his external musings. Call it a stream of consciousness.

"I was thinking recently about getting a cat, you know. I hope you aren't allergic or anything... But it wouldn't be a normal cat, of course. Not a muggle cat. More like part Kneazel. You know what they are, right? Of course you do, you're smart." Though he seemed to speak somewhat slowly to regular human ears, it was paced quickly in comparison to his typical verbage. He was actually enthusiastic about what he spoke of.

There had been an adorable gray kitten for adoption a few days ago, 3/4 Kneazel blood. That made her extremely intelligent, obviously, and most likely able to sense untruthfulness. She was a quiet one, only mewling when absolutely necessary. And though she had apparently not opened up to any customers, the moment she locked eyes with Lukas, he knew it was destiny. She even let him pet her. Funny, considering the ease and frequency with which he lied. She was more passive than energetic, which was amazingly fine for Lukas.

He loved animals, of course.

"There's one up for adoption that I just can't bear to let anyone else own. It's like we were made for each other..." He looked over at her again, this time keeping his eyes on her instead of their recent gaze at the ceiling. The firelight made her hair glow and gleam. It was pretty... He mentally shook himself to snap out of the trance. "I was wondering if you thought it might be a good idea." He asked himself if she had understood the meaning behind this conversation.

First, he was blatantly asking her opinion, letting her know that her input affected him. That she affected him. Would she catch on? Okay, maybe it was a little too subtle... Not that he thought she was dull, but he figured there were a couple of ways for it to be skipped and passed over. The second... Lola typically didn't speak of herself, expect for that fluke of an occasion in that very room. He doubted tonight would be any different at all, so he took precautions. If she wasn't going to talk, he wouldn't make her. He would distract her, let her fear melt away with petty small-talk and sweet topics...

And if you listen, I can call,
and if you jump, you just might fall,
and if you shout,
I'll only hear you

[Lola Rose]

Just when you think you've got me figured out
The season's already changing
I think it's cool you do what you do
And don't try to save me

Lola walked lightly down the staircase, wondering idling whether animals would like a vampire, anyway. Didn’t they startle? Or was that werewolves? She hummed quiet acquiescence to his first comment, guessing that he didn’t really need her to respond. No, Lola had never been one to talk much about herself. The promise of tonight was almost a gift, the chance to get out of her own head, to escape her own racing thoughts. Some nights she couldn’t think properly, mind a blur of causes and effects, things to be wary of, things to be frightened of. There were a lot, and Lola Rose was a small girl.

He’d already beaten her to the couch, so without much thought, she moved towards the arm chair, pulling her feet up to sit in a comfortable cross-legged position. He seemed enthusiastic about the topic tonight, and she hardly minded listening to it. In fact, it actually brought back memories of her childhood, of the many cats that had wandered the neighbourhood where she’d lived. It wasn’t a bad memory really. They’d been scruffy though, and she guessed they’d never really gotten enough food to eat, but they’d always been there.

Somehow she doubted Lukas’s cat would be like the ones she’d known. Maybe she was wrong when she assumed this, but he’d always seemed the real ‘money-bags’. The clothes, the hair, the make-up. Enough for Lola to begin judging quite easily, but he wasn’t bad company (or a terrible kisser for one) and so his wealth (if she was in fact correct) wasn’t too intimidating. Did vampires even need money? They hadn’t spoken much of it, and it had been hard for her to do any research in the first place. Other than a few questions she’d asked the librarian, she hadn’t found out much.

He seemed to believe she already understood a lot anyway. The subtle compliments about her intelligence... Not necessarily true, but she liked them. Slightly reassuring maybe. Luckily this time, she did have a fair clue already about Kneazles. She stifled a laugh though when he spoke about ‘being made for one another’, and turned away smirking. He looked back to her this time though, and she smiled faintly back and waited.

When he asked on her opinion, she almost shrugged. He’d been talking about it this whole time, it was almost as if he’d already brought it, or at least it was settled. Why should her opinion change anything? And even if she told him not to, would he actually go along with it? Wasn’t it a little silly to be asking her? Or maybe, she thought, he was doing something different. Maybe he just wanted her to add something to this conversation – she’d been silent for the most part anyway. In that case… “Why not?” She said, shrugging again to show that it didn’t mean a great deal to her. “I mean, if you really want it, and the two of you are ‘made for each other,’ then why pass up the opportunity?”

She leaned back in the chair, fiddling with the hem of her T-shirt. It was black, a few sizes too big but comfortable for sleeping (or trying to in her case). She glanced back to Lukas, and asked “What will you name it?” It was interesting to imagine, especially as she’d always thought the name Lukas too ordinary for a vampire. And if he was as old as she knew some vampires today were (the librarian really knew her facts), then she wondered if his idea of a good name would change because of that.

“How old are you Lukas?” She demanded, looking up in puzzlement. Her changing of the subject seemed unexplained, but her thoughts proved anything but. Why hadn’t she wondered before this? He didn’t look older then her, but the librarian had slipped something about how vampires stayed physically the same once having been bitten, and she guessed it must be the same with Lukas Weber.

[Lukas Weber]

I've found the cure to growing older,
and you're the only place that feels like home,
just so you know, you'll never know
and some secrets weren't meant to be told,
and I've found the cure to growing older

Lukas got the feeling that Lola at least caught his drift. She seemed almost... relieved? Perhaps that was the right word. At least there wasn't hardly any tension in the air. If he did say so himself, it seemed as if his words melted away the stony claminess of the common room much like the warm fire made the bland rocky walls glow ochre and vermillion. Heh, how eloquent he was being! Or, perhaps, it was the red-head's cute little smile, coupled with the adorably vulnerable cross-legged pose.

He mentally jolted his train of thought away. That's crude, he chastized silently.

But he did like her smile. He was glad that she found herself relaxing in his presence. Because... Even if she didn't open up to Lukas himself, at least he could help her to defrost for other men she might be interested in... It was a low blow to Lukas, who hadn't been in a real relationship for many, many years. In fact, he'd never been with a girl, young adult, or woman for more than two or three months at a time. It wasn't Lukas who had the committment problems - it was everyone else. Unfortunately. It meant now he felt almost guilty for seeming desperate and chasing this "untouchable" lady...

He forced himself back to the present and noted Lola's pensiveness at his request for her opinion. He hadn't expected her to get excited or anything, so it wasn't a let-down when she replied quite vaguely. "Why not?" she asked nonchalantly, shrugging with a why should I care? look on her face. The question was rhetorical and therefore Lukas abstained from answering.

"I mean, if you really want it, and the two of you are 'made for each other', then why pass up the opportunity?" He smiled. No, not smirked. There was a bit of humor in his eyes, but his expression was soft and gentle. Another rhetorical question, but he had something else to say as well. "Why not, indeed? Told you it was a good idea..."

Lola leaned back and fidgeted with her sleeping garments a bit before she continued. A brief intermission, maybe. "What will you name it?" she asked. Lukas looked away from her gaze and turned his eyes back to the ceiling. What an excellent question. He had considered it even at that fateful day at the pet emporium, and now was a window of opportunity to think about it in depth.

"Her," he corrected automatically. Lukas liked animals enough that it had become a bit of a pet peeve to hear people talk about perfectly engendered animals as if they were inanimate objects. Sure, it was okay if they weren't aware of the sex, but still. Lukas frequently felt the need to either request the information or look for himself, which was a little awkward but hey, business was business and no one was worse for the wear.

He pondered a few options for a moment before commenting idly, "Well, she was given a pre-adoption name by the workers - Smokey. But I don't really find it a quite flattering or fitting name for such a pretty girl..." He trailed off. In all honesty, he thought Smokey was a repulsive, horribly common name for such a well-known pet. It was like people had no originality these days... Which they didn't, of course.

Lukas would know.

He finally decided to share two possible names he'd been flipping through mentally and voiced them to his beautiful companion. "I was thinking... Perhaps Mist or Eliza would be better... If the latter, then a cute little nickname could be Ellie or whatever, you know...?" He smiled a bit at the thought, and there was a beat of silence when Lola randomly spoke up. Maybe she had been pondering it for a while, but maybe it just came up.

"How old are you, Lukas?" she asked. He looked over at her. Um...? He decided there was no harm in telling her. She already knew he was a vampire. "Physically? 16. I turned 85 last August. Why...? How old are you?" Her question was spontaneous enough that there was skepticism in his tone.

I'm the first kid to write of hearts, life, and friends,
and I am sorry my conscience called in sick again,
and I've got arrogance down to a science, oh,
and I'm the first kid to write of hearts, life, and friends, now...

[/center][/font][/blockquote][/size]

[Lola Rose]

What can't be decided?
In the morning it will bring itself to you,
What can't be decided?
Can fool you into thinking maybe you can choose.

Lola sat quietly as she listened, watching him thoughtfully. She was pleased so far, happy to speak of things that were neither important nor personal. Well, at least for her. But Lukas didn’t seem to mind either, and that made it all the more enjoyable. Normally, on nights like these, she would wander the castle, not actually looking for anything or anyone, but simply spending her time doing anything but trying to sleep. And it did work. But Lukas had told her last time that he didn’t sleep, and Lola wasn’t one to forget important things, especially something she could use to her advantage later. So she had. And he didn’t seem angry in the least.

He smiled at her answer, and for a minute she wondered what was funny. Of course, he could just be smiling for the sake of it, but that seemed silly. Normally he wore that strange little smirk, the mocking one, the expression that usually explained if she’d said something dumb. So it was an odd relief to see something different, something a little softer.

Then he spoke, and she shrugged slightly in return. She tried to imagine Lukas with a cat by his side, and frowned despite herself. Never had she imagined him to be the type to own a pet, but Lola wasn’t good at analysing people and she supposed this was just the same. In fact, there were probably a million and one things she still didn’t know about Lukas, things she’d maybe already assumed, things that weren’t even necessarily true.

He corrected her on the gender, and she quirked an eyebrow in amusement. When he spoke of the name Smokey, she nodded supportively, agreeing that it was in fact too ordinary. It seemed that everyone automatically called their pet’s names that were so… similar. Like every type of animal was only suited to one name. How pathetic.

At the name Mist though, Lola grinned wildly, shaking her head in amusement. “Oh god,” she said, “If you name her Mist Lukas, I refuse to ever set eyes on her.” Not wanting to seem overly negative about something that wasn’t hers though, she added, “But Eliza is an okay name, I guess.” Well done Lola, she thought bitterly; improvement.

After asking his age, she leaned closer to the chair, resting her head back and closing her eyes. No, she wasn’t tired. Just resting, and he’d been watching the ceiling anyway. His answer though, caused her to open her eyes immediately, green eyes wide and visibly surprised.

“Eighty five,” She repeated, shaking her head in bemusement “You’re eighty five years old.” Uncrossing her legs, Lola sat forward, opening her mouth again in surprise. It felt strange hearing him say it so normally, as if she was the one overreacting. But he had to be lying this time, or at the very least, exaggerating. “But…” She paused for a minute, running a hand through her hair thoughtfully, “I’m only seventeen.”

Of course, Lola wasn’t jealous. It was hard sometimes not to compare every little thing to her own life, and upon coming to Hogwarts, she’d found herself changing views quite regularly. In the muggle world, she’d never believed in vampires, werewolves, or even witches, but even now, everything had limits, and despite her knowing that Lukas Weber was a vampire, a person that was supposedly eighty five years old, he just didn’t seem real enough. And that sort of hurt.

What can't be decided?
In the morning it will bring itself to you
I can see what's coming, but I'm not saying it

[Lukas Weber]

Tiny heart, stuck inside yourself,
when will you open up for me?
I love you so, I wanna meet you again,
before one of us must go

At his comment she shrugged noncommittally... Lukas honestly didn't mind if it didn't matter to her, really. But he knew it wasn't true. If she didn't care, she might have changed the subject. She definitely wouldn't continue contributing her own input as she was currently. She wouldn't keep reacting, especially with amusement at his correction and options.

"Oh, god, if you name her Mist, Lukas, I refuse to ever set eyes on her," she said, and he looked over at her to see her grinning. He smirked in return, pleased to have amused her so. Hey, if she could smile like that, it was a good sign for Lukas. He was saying the right things, keeping her mind off of whatever had woken her up, had frightened her so much to have her require the company of a vampire. So with her sufficiently distracted, he allowed her to continue.

"But Eliza is an okay name, I guess," Lola said, and Lukas could sense that she was half-way saying this because of her blatant shoot-down of his first idea. He did nothing externally, but shrugged mentally. There were so many other names he could (and undoubtedly would) use... A name popped in suddenly and Lukas' eyes widened in the slightest. Yes... That name would have to be it! It was perfect! He wasn't going to share with Lola, lest she feel like her opinion didn't matter, which would be entirely counter-productive considering the whole purpose of the evening...

No, he wouldn't even think about it. No way he could forget such a pretty, elegant name. Yes, that was it! And as soon as the emporium opened the next day, he would adopt her, and she would be his... Oh, it was just so wonderfully perfect! Oh, how brilliant! Fantastic! He kept his face passive and smooth as their conversation transitioned, but his dead heart was leaping over itself in joy.

Lola at first appeared tired when she leaned back into the armchair. It wouldn't surprise him if she was actually tired. It was well past her bed-time, the cute little human she was. Lukas wasn't tired at all, of course. This was his natural time of the day, and recently he hadn't been sleeping at all so he was used to it. Plus, he was dead. It wouldn't kill him if he was lacking sleep... (Heh, get it? Kill... Nevermind.) But at his comment she suddenly flicked her eyes open, wide, and sat up.

She was shocked. He vaguely wondered how she could be. If he was young, could he control himself so expertly? "Eighty five..." she repeated back, as if she hadn't heard him properly the first time. He nodded, somewhat amused at her reaction. "You're eighty five years old..." He actually chuckled at this. Three times? Surely she had convinced herself by now. His suspicion was replaced by an almost playfulness. "Yes, eighty five."

Four time's a charm. Lola seemed to think it over again, and then mused almost to herself, "But... I'm only seventeen..." He chuckled again. Duh. If she was eighty something like him, then she would be old and wrinkley and colorless. Perhaps they might have been childhood friends, though Lola didn't look the slightest bit German. What if they met in America...? Nope, he wouldn't have met a middle-aged woman. He didn't. When he did, well, what he did, he was only with newly-legals and young-adults, none much older than thirty.

But the comprehension hadn't really seemed to dawn on her. "Hope that didn't turn you off too much. I'm still your age on the outside... The only difference is my years of experience." But as he spoke, his eyes suddenly clouded over and blocked out emotion. He was thinking of his childhood in Germany. His girlfriend of two months who had fully supported him and adored his rebellion against Herr Hitler... The way that his changer and mentor had ripped him away from his beautiful parents (who were more than likely dead by now) and the girl he could have spent his life with... Who would be one of those old, wrinkled ladies with no children or grandchildren, pining away over knitting needles about the man she had lost so many years ago, about the pain and anguish of the war...

He ripped his eyes away from Lola, and found them locked on the dark leather of the back of the couch that was inches from his nose. "I grew up in Nazi Germany before I was changed almost sixty years ago," he managed, his tone icy and distant. Emotions were bubbling in his throat, but he fought them down expertly and opted for a more safe action - staring at the back of the couch, refusing to give any more indication of his rage and sorrow to Lola.

So much for being a calming night... He forced himself to relax, to think of his new kitten with her beautiful new name, but it wouldn't quite work...

And you will never know losing love from me
and you will never know a single day alone

[Lola Rose]

Oh, empty my heart,
I've got to make room for this feeling,
So much bigger than me.

He didn't really react to her opinions on the kitten's names. Other than that smirk of his of course, but this time it didn't bother her so much. He'd asked her for her thoughts in the first place, and it was hardly fair if she couldn't speak truthfully. Rather than angry though, he seemed pleased with himself. Huh, she thought. Had he forgotten his place in the conversation or something?

Mentally shrugging, she glanced back over at him, surprised to see his expression having changed in minutes. He still had the pleased-with-himself look on, but there was excitement as well, and Lola guessed it was just something else to do with his new pet. How had this even been brought up, she thought suddenly. For, despite her nightmare tonight, she was hardly scared anymore. Mostly she felt grateful, but there was a hint of happiness in her too.

Lola had always had nightmares. Back at home even; so it wasn't like they were something she'd suddenly had to get used to. She imagined Lukas already had a faint idea that it had been her nightmares again tonight. She'd mentioned them briefly in this very room a few weeks ago, but it was still vaguely humiliating. It was bad enough having the actual nightmares, but being genuinely frightened of them...

They were certainly a nuisance. Unfortunately, Lola also put books in a similar category. Having always been too embarrassed to ask for help, she simply put up with the problem, only trying occasionally to sort it out herself. With nightmares, she couldn't bear the thought of having to discuss them with someone, having to open up (if only for her own benefit). She'd put up with not being able to read for at least twelve years now. Her sleeping habits could certainly wait a few more.

Upon admitting his age, Lukas seemed hardly embarrassed. In fact, he acted like she should've known this already. After a few minutes of working it out in her head, she sat back again, eyebrows still knitted together in confusion. He laughed at her quietly and she looked up quickly enough to glare in his direction. When he spoke though, her face softened slightly (only just) as she sighed.

"That's not quite true," she said slowly, feigning exasperation for a moment. "On the outside, Lukas, I happen to be a whole year older then you." Then she smirked at him and leaned back against the chair, sidling around so her legs hung over the arm rest. She smirked again to herself this time, finding the fact that – while not technically – she was a year older then him, oddly reassuring.

It was strangely silent for a while, but Lola didn't bother turning (her new position meant he wasn't in her line of vision now) to ask what he was thinking about. No, the silence was refreshing (not that talking about cats wasn't the most exciting thing ever) (but really…) and Lola was quite content to sit quietly.

She didn't even think about ignoring his next comment though. For it was the tone that told her something was wrong, and even Lola, who already knew she was hopeless when analysing people's feelings (let alone her own), could tell Lukas was angry/hurt/sad about something. So she wriggled around, trying to understand everything perfectly before she said anything.

Nazi Germany? Sure, she couldn't read and had rarely attended school in the later years, but Lola Rose knew enough about the World Wars to understand what he was talking about. Fortunately for her, Charlotte had done an assignment a few years ago on the second World War, and had been so interested, she'd recounted many of the events to Lola. Lukas's tone answered her first question. It had been awful.

She didn't say anything straight away. He hadn't exactly left her with much to say anyway. Obviously he didn’t want to share, and Lola wasn't even sure if she wanted to hear in the first place. So many terrible things had happened, and no doubt Lukas had witnessed a few. While she still believed her home life had been horrible, she couldn't imagine what it must've been like for War victims.

He turned away from her, facing the couch and she kneeled up a little on the chair, peering over at him and grimacing as she tried to think of something to say. "So, you're German then?" She said, pausing slightly as she waited for any indication that he was even listening, "Do you speak the language?" A silly question really, and her embarrassed frown already gave that away, but Lola wasn't good at being sympathetic, and she wasn't even close to learning how now.

[/blockquote]

[Lukas Weber]

We got no reason to be alone now
we got no reason to be
(what they want us to be)

Sometimes it was so difficult to keep his emotions controlled. Of course, it was usually a piece of cake. No problem whatsoever. But even thoughts of his soon-to-be pet, the adorable kitten with her gorgeous German-inspired name, wasn't enough to pacify his raging mind. He contented himself by keeping his back turned to Lola, wiping his mind of those human memories from so long ago.

He would cool down in a few minutes, no worries...

He didn't respond when Lola supplied her own thoughts. It wasn't worth the effort, and he honestly didn't want to be reminded of what all he did when he really had been her age. "That's not quite true," she said. Was she trying to be clever? Yes: her next statement answered for her. "On the outside, Lukas, I happen to be a whole year older than you." He could hear the smirk in her tone, the pleased-with-herself smile that she typically adopted.

He could only hope she was joking. He had been estimating with his statement. When he said "I'm still your age", he didn't mean literally. He meant general age level. Upper teens, in other words. Even school year would be more appropriate. They were obviously not exactly the same age, neither physically or chronologically. But he let it slide, his frustration and annoyance ebbing away.

With those feelings also went his sorrow and pain and rage. Why had he gotten so worked up anyways? Yes, there would always be the loss of his loved ones to recall. In fact, perhaps he would have another loved one to share the story with sometime in his death, maybe even another vampire. Then again, humans weren't so bad, were they? No... No, they weren't. Humans have changed a lot in the last century, and Lukas wasn't going to pass the opportunity for love up. They'd changed for the better, obviously.

There was a silence following his outburst, which was most likely a regrettably awkward one for Lola. The vampire himself didn't mind so much: he was a vampire. After living so long, awkward silences didn't really mean much to him. But he was a bit concerned for Lola's comfort level. He wasn't sure if the hesitation was due to his emotional explosion and her unwillingness to react and possibly "hurt" him, or her lack of knowledge on the subject. She couldn't read, after all, but... Still...

She did answer. "So, you're German then?" she asked tentatively, testing the waters. He didn't respond. He preferred her feel the ice before breaking through to the warm current beneath. His rage was fading... Yes, there was a glitch, but overall he could count this night as relaxing, lazy. It was going to be okay. Thank whatever deity existed.

"Do you speak the language, then?" she finally asked after another possibly awkward pause. In fact, she seemed more uncomfortable asking the question than his lack of response. He turned around, the bitter chill of his eyes gone, their chocolate hue warming and reassuring. She wore a frown, unfortunately. He slowly flipped himself back to facing her, his head propped up by his hand as he laid sideways.

(Of course, this open position may have been inviting and possibly even sexual if it had been two other people. But Lukas was a vampire, and what's more, he'd had too many encounters of the source to be possibly affected by visuals alone. Did that make him feminine? It was common knowledge that men were turned on visually. Sure he liked looking at girls as much as any guy, but he also took into consideration her personality and background. In this sense, not even the sight of her vulnerable form in sleepwear was no more enticing then, say, a Knarl in a dress. He was used to it by now. He couldn't exactly speak for Lola, but any and all awkwardness was summarily lost to the vampire. Heh. How strange.)

He finally answered her. "But of course, Lola," he purred, a hint of amusement in his tone despite his serious expression. "Unfortunately, we're in Scotland, and I've yet to find a fellow German-speaker. Therefore, I speak English, in case you hadn't noticed by now."

He considered the matter closed. If she wanted to respond to that, sure. But he had nothing else to say. He looked into the flickering fire. It made his spine tingle. It reminded him of the sun, the bane of his existance. And still, though he knew the burns he would recieve from it would harm him more than any human, he was drawn to the flame. He stared for a bit, admiring the rapid and graceful movements it gave.

He had to tear his gaze back to Lola. The color of her hair was similar, but less radiant and more mundane. Sorry, Lola, he apologized mentally, hoping she couldn't read his thoughts. Just kidding, he knew she couldn't. He'd feel it, right? Sure. Regardless.

"Are you cold?" he asked randomly, but that isn't to say he wasn't genuine. She was as skinny as he was, but she was human. She was affected by the temperature so much more than he would ever be again... Would she be okay?

Yeah, I'm falling out of the sky without a parachute
with ideas and beliefs that you never knew

[Lola Rose]

Ghost, ghost I know you live within me
Feel as you fly,
In thunderclouds above the city,
Into one that I

In fact, long silences had never really bothered Lola. She spoke when she was curious, sat back in her armchair otherwise, content to watch the flickering flames in the fireplace and take the slight crack now and then of embers or wood as the responses to a conversation that she still wasn't quite sure why she was having. She noticed that Lukas was drawn to the fire, too, and wasn't surprised. Vampires had that thing about them, didn't they? She might not have read much, but she knew the stories, she had told Charlotte some of the stories. It made her smile, a little. Lola knew she was far from being anything less than a cliche herself, but the concept of being drawn to the flames was an old one, melodramatic enough to suit Lukas's dark silhouette perfectly.

Lola smiled slightly, raising her hand to rest her chin in her palm, fingers resting lightly on the corner of her mouth, enough that it almost surprised her when she felt her lips tilt up in a smile. Lola found herself quieter at night, easily amused by nothing in particular, and though she had asked for Lukas's presence, she did not mind so much that the vampire did not seem particularly communicative. She sprawled back against her chair, hooking her legs over one arm. The night was cold outside the Common Room, perhaps, but here it was warm and still and peaceful, the way Lola liked things: no hubbub of students, no sight of people studying where Lola could not, no annoying children to jerk her out of her reverie.

When he spoke with such amusement evident in her tone, Lola shrugged slightly, not entirely impressed by his answer. It wasn't a given, she thought, that he would know German; even if he had at one point, she knew that lack of use made it all too easy for a language to slip out of your head. The thought of Lukas practicing in conversations with himself made her laugh quietly on the inside, but she didn't let that slip onto her face, instead nodding. "It must be strange," she mused, not so much to him as it was to the room in general, "to know a language and have no cause to speak it." She wondered idly whether Lukas thought in German, whether he dreamed in it -- then she thought of the strange, unbalancing nightmares that she dreamed of sometimes, words and sentences spiralling in front of her, letters that were to her as strange symbols, and all she knew was that beneath them lay the secret to save Charlotte, out of her reach forever.

Her head jerked up at Lukas's next question, and she surveyed him with no small amount of surprise. It hadn't occurred to her that Lukas might think about things like that, and she didn't know whether to be touched or mildly offended. Instead she blinked at him and said, "I'm fine. Did you not notice the fire?" It would have been hard for him not to, gazing into it with those mournful eyes the way he had been, and Lola stretched back in her chair, sighing a little to herself.

It was easy, she thought, to sit out here at night, and perhaps that was the thing she liked best about Lukas's company was how easy it was to maintain. Perhaps that was a strange thing to have about a vampire, but she enjoyed it, sitting here and not thinking about anything in particular, knowing that no nightmares could touch her here: that somewhere, Charlotte was sleeping, safe and sound. That Lola was much like that herself, and that was a strange thought to have. She enjoyed it anyway.

She goes and now she knows she'll never be afraid,
To watch the morning paper blow,
Into a hole where no one can escape