You're as Cold as IceMature

"I don't, have you played before?" She wondered, glancing over to her violin case in the corner.

"A little."

"Would you care to show me?"

"I can only play a couple of things. I got impatient with it." He said, standing. "Where's your violin?" She motioned over to the case stood up at the opposite corner of the room. He walked over to it and unclipped it carefully, taking the violin out with a smile.

"Could you play a G for me?" He asked his fingers ready on the tuning keys. "Habit," he smiled

"No, of course," she smiled pushing down the G key, "although it should be fine." 

He tuned it quickly, not needing to do much to it. "No, you're right. I'm just fussy. This might hurt your ears, I haven't played in a while..." he grinned, remembering when he had played for two hours, choosing her violin right before a transformation. He began to play, his eyes closed as he concentrated, feeling his way up and down the strings, rather than using sight to guide him. He slid his finger too far up the fingerboard and grimaced as the note sounded wrong. "Crap," he muttered, though he didn't pause, trained for too long to continue after a mistake.

She smiled, walking up to him and placed a hand upon his. "Wait." She smiled softly looking into his eyes. "Just pause a moment. Try that bit again." She watched him more closely this time.

"Sure." he muttered, back tracking to where he had gone wrong.

"Watch where your fingers are going. Be careful." She stood beside him, watching his fingers slide across the fingerboard, the bow sliding across the strings softly.

"I shouldn't need to use my eyes," he said stubbornly, shutting them again

"So when you pick up a new instrument you expect to learn by being blind? Lazarus. Don't be so stubborn! Open your eyes."

He opened his eyes. "You're not meant to look at what you're doing, though, you learn by feeling. Guitars are much easier, they have frets," he grumbled, watching his movements this time.

"You must know where to put your fingers first though!"

"Mmm. Sorry, I'm so used to playing the piano, looking at a score, not what my fingers are doing. I've not learnt anything by looking at the keys since I was seventeen,"

She sighed. "No need to be, if you wish to feel your way go ahead," she shrugged.

“No, you're right. I’m not as familiar with this as a piano," he smiled, the expression a little shaky as he turned back to the instrument.

She kissed his cheek softly, "try again, slowly, softly."

He nodded, realising he was doing the same as Melissa, learning as though his father was stood behind him, ready to beat him senseless for his failings.

"Shh..." she soothed recognising the slight flinch. "Perhaps we should return to our comfort zones for the rest of this evening.”

"I'm fine," he smiled at her and began to play again

She clasped her hands together in front of her nodding softly as he played. "Yes, well done." She nodded, "Tell me, how many notes do you know?"

He listed the scales he could play and what keys he had learnt to play in, "but I can't play in E flat minor, B flat minor or... C flat major... Those keys are mean." he complained.

She nodded. "Maybe another day then, for now, try this..." She opened one of the boxes, flicking through the books se pulled one out and blew off the dust, opening the page that had Scarborough Fair on it, "Here." She smiled, showing it to him.  He read the score through once and, fighting back the urge to close his eyes, he began to play, his pale orbs flickering between the score and the fingerboard. They flashed with dogged determination, but he slipped again and cursed.

She kissed his cheek again and stood behind him, she placed her cool hand upon his, the one on the fingerboard and told him to close his eyes and focus on the bow moving.

He relaxed a little as her hand covered his, though her skin was becoming colder, almost by the minute. He ignored it and did as she said, focussing on playing properly, trying to relearn the fingerboard by touch.

She moved his hand as they played through the song, "I think you're re-gaining it Lazarus." She grinned.

"Re-gaining?" He asked, opening one eye to look at the fingerboard for just a moment. "There wasn't much to re-gain."

She glanced at the clock and took her hand from his. "There was, you know all but three scales. That's impressive."

He shrugged. "It's not much." He muttered, blushing just a little. "Not compared to obsessively trying to outdo Mozart himself, in a rather dismal attempt to distract myself from my earlier life. A few scales next to as many Mozart pieces as I could retain." He smiled and laughed a little, mostly at himself.  She laughed with him kissing him swiftly, not wanting to spend longer in it than needed.

"Well I think that's about it, shall we pick it up again tomorrow?"

"Ohhh. Just as I was beginning to get the hang of it," he whined jokingly. Putting the violin back in its case, he straightened again, turning to smile at Melissa.

"You will eventually."

"Just as you will get the hang of the piano. I promise you that. You'll be better than me by next moon." he said, certain.

"Better than you? Doubtful."

"Well why do you think Mozart made it and I didn't?" 

"Why?"

"Because I’m not that good." he smiled. 

"And you expect to teach me to be better than you?" She asked bemused.

"No. I expect to teach you how to play on your own and that you will develop without my help."

"What if I don't want to be better than you?"

"That's up to you." he muttered. "But it wouldn't be hard."

She sighed, longing to embrace him but she stood, her arms folded across her chest. "Lazarus you are amazing, you entrance all who listen to you."

"Now, now. Let's not start another fight." he grinned.

She sighed. "You're right."

"Come here." He told her.

"What? Why?"

"Just come here."

"Why?"

"Melissa." he scowled at her. "Come here."

She took a single step forward. 

"Good. We're making progress." he rolled his eyes and ended up closing the gap between them. He stood close to her, her freezing body against his hot one, and he wrapped his arms around her. "I love you," he murmured.

She stood there, rigid in his arm. "Yeah." She mumbled.

 "What's wrong?"

"I'm freezing, I can even feel it myself."

"Getting closer to your death day."

"It's tomorrow." She moaned.

"Hmm, so does that mean we should be doing anything in particular? Well. You. I'm not really a part of that, am I."

"It really is nothing like a birthday, I mean it’s not a day I particularly want to remember. But I have to. I turn deathly cold." She rolled her eyes. "How very fitting." 

"Want me to stay around and warm you up?" he asked

"I'm afraid I will probably only make you colder."

"I'll be fine. It's not me you have to worry about."

"No, I do."

He groaned a little. "Don't."

"Why?"

"Because it's hardly me that needs worrying about."

"Who needs worrying about then?"

"You."

"Me? I'm fine, you need not worry about me."

"I always worry about you."

Her eyes turned rather mournful as she looked at him. "Whatever for?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Does that really need answering after today?"

She sighed, "no, no it doesn't."

"But we're still here. Still fighting off fate, eh? We'll get through tomorrow and the next moon, and every other thing this world throws at us after it, okay?" he spoke confidently, and for once, he felt it.

She nodded. "Yeah" she agreed, knowing that this would not be the case.

He sighed, hearing the disagreement in her voice. "Do you not think after all the impossible fall outs we've had that we have at least some strength?"

"Yeah but what if you were on your own?" She wondered.

"What do you mean?"

"What if say I got kidnapped, by a really strong group of people that had loads in their gang. What would you do when you are all alone?"

"Obsess about how I would get you back."

"But what could you actually do other than obsess? What if you couldn't get me back?" 

"I would find a way. I would." His tone was adamant.

She nodded still not sure. "Okay."

He let go of her with a small sigh, realising she didn't really believe him. "I would," he mumbled, sitting on his piano stool.

"I just don't think you'd be able to."

"I might be small, but it's no reason to doubt me."

"No, it's not that."

"You’re worried about the coven taking you. Is that it?"

"Yeah. I am. But I know it is going to happen. I just want to know you'll be able to move on after I'm gone."

He shook his head. "You'll come back. If you don't I'll /get/ you back."

"Lazarus if I don't come back, don't bother."

"You think I'd give you up that easily? I'd hardly be able to live with myself if I didn't even try!"

"I couldn't live with myself if I had led you to your death! But I'd be dead by then anyway."

He paused for a moment, his hand clenching and unclenching of its own accord. "Let me come with you." he murmured

"No, no I can't do that." She held her arms across her chest again. "Take a werewolf into the heart of the vampire colony? That's an even bigger death wish!"

"We'd die together, I wouldn't have to let you go alone, waiting on edge for you to come back."

"No. Lazarus I won't take that risk! I won't let you come with me."

"They will smell me on you anyway. You might as well. Collar me and take me on a leash and call me a pet; I don't care what explanation you use, but I can't let you go alone."

"Lazarus I'm not going to collar you, nor call you a pet."

"You need to give them a better reason for you smelling of dog than because you fell in love with me. The reason should be good enough for any sane person, but vampires don't seem to think that way."

She sighed. "If I must. But try to allow your wolf to shield your mind. I don't know what powers these vampires will have."

"Wolf seems to do what it likes, to be honest. I'm sure it'll figure that bit out."

"We shall leave when I return to normal." She sighed. "This is too much."

"Sorry."

"No It's fine. Fate is cruel." She walked away from him, moving to open the blinds onto the sunset.

"Yeah, it really is."

She turned to him, opening her arms. "If you don't mind."

"Why would I mind?" He rose and went to her.

"Because I'm cold. So cold." She mumbled, thankful for the warmth after four hundred years. "And to think I lived without you."

"You seem to have managed."

"Not well." She curled herself as close to him as possible. "I mean, I was as bad as you probably."

"You didn't rely on alcohol or anything like that though."

"I couldn't. The only way I could intake alcohol is from blood and mostly it makes me sick." She shrugged. "So I had to deal with all my pain sober."

"Exactly. You couldn't hide from it." he laughed dryly. "You're a lot stronger than I am."

"That's why you need me." She smiled.

He nodded. "Yeah."

She kissed him softly, her icy lips brushing his. "I'll help you, through anything, Lazarus. You're as strong as I am; you just haven't found it yet."

"You've already helped me so much." He whispered, beginning to feel a little bad. She had done so much for him and it felt like whatever he did was worthless. "Thank you."

"No need, you have re-paid me enough without kind words."

"How have I?"

"You have saved me from death more times than I can remember. You are my salvation, my angel, my muse, my saviour. You are everything, you put the sun back in my life..." she trailed. "Sorry. I'm ranting."

"You're not ranting."

He kissed her softly and smiled. "I need reminding occasionally, about what I do. That I'm not the waste of space I was taught to see myself as." he sighed.

"Waste of space? You are my whole world!"

(Lazarus smiled wryly. "I didn't realise childhood experiences could last this long. I'd be a perfect case study for those psychologists, eh?" found himself laughing, but he didn't know why.

"Mmm." She eyed him cautiously, not finding his words particularly funny.

"No need to look at me like that." he mumbled, looking out of the window.

"Sorry," she looked up at him. "I love you too." She finally replied staring up into his pale eyes and sighed deeply, dreamily.

"It's okay." He gazed back at her, meeting her eyes. "Any plans for tonight?" he asked after a while

She shook her head simply, "none." she mumbled, not breaking their gazes.

"Mmm. Feel like ordering a bed, then?" he asked, wondering how long he would be sleeping in the arms of a brown bear. Not that he was complaining, but it would be nice to sort the apartment out properly and make some kind of attempt at building a new life for themselves.

"Sure."

"Can you even order beds online?" he wondered aloud.

She nodded. "Yeah. The internet is...everything."

"Hmm." he didn't want to break their embrace.

"Go. You'll catch your death if you stay here."

"How would I catch my death like this?"

"Figuratively speaking, because I'm so cold!"

He kissed her again. "I'm used to the cold now." 

"Oh, well you're gonna need your wolf's fur tomorrow. I believe Logan described it as; 'you will turn as cold as an arctic blizzard.'" She nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry."  

"Don't be sorry, you can't really help it."

"No, true. But, I hope it will be okay." She kissed him firmly, her lips colder than ice. "I love...love." She savoured the word for a moment, "love you."

The End

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