Bookstore Choices

A new age bookstore. It's the sort of off-the-wall place one might think to find in the artsy part of Dallas. Enough of a distance from work and home that she should have no issues. Bells dingle overhead as she enters the shop, nodding at the woman running it.
The woman running it who is thinking about her cat having a litter of kittens, her boyfriend potentially cheating on her, and what to make for dinner that night.
A projective thinker.
It's enough to cause Chloe to wince as she wanders deeper into the store, trying to find a book on how to control one's own mind.

Gently, carefully, finger and thumb of a man's fingers grasp at a spine. The Interpretation of Dreams slides out, as the slender man comes up from his crouch, coming to his mighty height of five feet eight. He opens it, flicks through a few pages, perhaps a little faster than someone normally would. A faint look of interest comes onto his face as he takes it in. Will's eyes dart up, quickly scanning the aisle.

Down the aisle comes the girl with the red hair. Eyes kept down, attempting to not accidentally overhear. Trying to recall if she took the proper dosage that morning or not. She stops a shelf away from the man, unwilling to get too close lest his mind bombard her with thoughts and images.

But there is nothing. Nothing at all. Instead, his look draws up her figure, resting finally on her eyes. A certain element of possessiveness crosses over his face, swiftly tucked away behind a stoic facade. Eyes down to his book, back up to the girl.

The girl who is intent on not bothering him! Though, considering the book she is after rests on a shelf beyond him, she really has no choice.
"Pardon me," she says, trying to wind by him without getting in his way. Trying, but failing utterly as she begins to trip on her own feet.

Eyes down again, up again at the words. A brief narrowing of eyes and he steps to the side, switching rapidly by automatic instinct to catch her in his arms. Faster than any man has a right to move.

Caught, Chloe just stares up at the man, blinking. "—-ck," she finishes quietly, with a small hint of laughter in her voice. "How did you… oh gosh, I'm /so/ sorry…"

"No problem," he replies, meeting her look with a gentle smile. "Glad to be of help." He blinks, suddenly studying her a lot more intensely, and failing utterly to apply any pressure for getting her back on her own two feet. In fact, one hand moves subtly, a finger pressing against the back of her neck, and a general aura of concentration comes over him.

"What are you doing?" The question is not asked rudely, just mere curiosity at the fact that he's not bothered to tilt her back to her feet and is now staring at her oddly. Chloe cocks her head just a tad as she waits for a response, just continuously staring.

"The question is," he replies, his voice stilted slightly from the concentration, accent rather neutral for this part of the country, "what are— no. I apologise." His look does not shift, though he now applies the appropriate pressure to bring her up to her feet. He does not, however, release her just yet.

Finding herself on her feet properly again, Chloe blinks. "I was tripping over my own feet on the way to find a book," she replies, answering his presumed question. "Is… something wrong?"

Will suddenly allows her a smile, no teeth, friendly and pleasant. "No, of course not. Are you alright?"

"A bit of a pain…" Chloe grins, trying to put on her happy-face. "… in my pride, but otherwise I seem fine." She worries her teeth over her lower lip, and bluntly says, "There's no noise…" Yes, she may just sound crazy.

"Pride heals with time," Will tells her, threading an edge of humour into his tone. He glances around, letting the sounds of the bookshop wash through him. "What do you mean?" he queries; this isn't particular quiet, even by human standards.

"There is no noise," she states again, staring right at him. "How are you managing that?" Chloe gives him the most inquisitive look she can, before laughing it off. "Sorry, I have no idea what's gotten into me."

"You have a heartbeat, which means you are not like me" he responds, finally releasing her and shifting to a relaxed stance, though he doesn't move away. He meets her inquisitive look with one of his own. "How you are managing that is a question I was going to ask you."

"Of course I have a heartbea—-" Chloe blinks at him, shifting just enough to put perhaps an inch of distance between them. "Oh." Pause. "I'm certifiably insane," she answers, easily. No less than the truth. "I hear voices." Tap-tap on the temple.

"You have no reason to fear me," he tells her, seriously. "If you did, I would not have made things so obvious. Now." He lifts a hand, palm upwards, almost as if in invitation. "Tell me about the voices."

"Were I afraid, I'd be out the door," she states simply. Chloe tilts her head a little, then shakes it. "You know, voices. Crazy stuff." She glances at the counter. "She's thinking her boyfriend is cheating on her. The guy two rows over is planning on hitting up his ex-wife for cash, and you make no noise at all."

Will glances in the direction of her indications, before his tongue runs against the inside of his upper lip. "Would you excuse me? Just for half a minute?"

"Oh, hey. Don't worry about it. I know I'm crazy." Shoulders lift up in a somewhat nonchalant shrug, and she turns to wander back to her desired shelf.

The slender man is suddenly gone, two rows over in fact. There is a short, whispered conversation, as he questions the chap in question with emphatic force; nothing short of a brief glamour.
Then he is strolling back, back towards the girl.

Upon his return, he'll find Chloe staring at the shelf of books in front of her. Staring, not touching, not seeming to peruse the titles. Staring as though she's waiting for the book to just pop out at her.

"William Grant," comes his voice, from the side of her. "I felt I should introduce myself."

The voice draws her out of her seeming trance, causing her to jump. Chloe turns to stare at him, then offers out a hand. Then she quickly withdraws it and starts to curtsey. Then rethinks it and just nods her head in his direction. "Chloe Cornett."

He returns the nod with interest, even letting his head dip towards the tiniest of bows. "A beautiful name," Will tells her, "traditional for this area, as well. However, I did want to talk to you about something. About voices."

"I suggest Green Oaks," Chloe says with a teensy nod. "That's where I was. Helped a bundle." Why she's telling a complete stranger she was institutionalized is beyond her, but he's not making fun of her for the voices which is likely a determining factor.

Will shakes his head, ever so slightly. "I have heard of it," he says, "but I don't think you should ever have been there."

That's it. Just a noise. Chloe looks at him, then suddenly reaches to the shelf and yanks off a book. She flips it open, skims a few pages, and tucks it under her arm.
"You know a better place?"

"In a manner of speaking," says he. "If I promise to you now that I am about to tell you the truth, will you believe me?"

"Sure," Chloe answers, somewhat jokingly. "I'm insane." Tap-tap-tap at her noggin again. "I believe anything."

"Then please," Will says, with a gentle, easy smile. "Believe me that you are not insane. You are special, gifted."

"Cursed, more like." Chloe turns to peer at him. "Why're you interested anyhow? I'm just snackfood to you. Albeit, really good looking snackfood, but all the same…" It's not meant to be insulting, though it does have the potential to come off that way. She's just being frank.

"Oh no," Will replies, allowing her the briefest chuckle. "Snackfood you are not, at least to me. What you are," he says, lifting a finger to place gently on her cheek, "is employable, and intriguing."

"Already have a job," she says. Working for vampires is not something she wants to be too involved in. "Crazy people generally are intriguing," she adds. "After all, regular people are even duller than me."

Will allows her another chuckle. "Very well," he says, tilting his head to study her closely. "At least allow me to document your abilities. You are, in some ways, similar to myself, and it interests me greatly. For science, as it were."

"So those're my choices? Employment or test subject?" Chloe starts to back away a little. "Thank you very much for the offer, but I'd really rather not. Mkay, bye!" Which is when she turns on a heel, trying to make her way around the opposite side of the shelf. Greeeeat. Chat up a random stranger, get herself in a pile'a cow-dung.

Where he is, of course, waiting. Staring briefly towards the floor; contrite, almost, stands William Grant. "I'm sorry," he says, "I got off on completely the wrong foot there. You threw me by being utterly unreadable from my perspective."

Chloe stares at him, and very firmly says, "Don't /do/ that!" Her book, of course has gone flying back behind her. "That's great and all, and I accept the apology, but I'm still not keen on being a lab rat."

"No labs," he says, firmly, watching the book fall to the ground with only the tiniest wince to show he wanted to save it. "You have an incredible ability, or at least it seems that way to me. Perhaps—" He pauses, only briefly. "Perhaps you will agree to meet with me some time. With someone who knows you are not actually mad."

Chloe considers quietly, shifting backward to collect her book. You know, the human way. "Uhmm sure. Somewhere public," she states. Then she glances around. "/More/ public." Pausing, she holds out her hand. "Phone."

"Understandable," Will allows, with the twitch of a smile lifting his lips apart for the first time; a lack of fangs at the moment. He draws forth a phone, pressing appropriate buttons before offering it out.

Taking the phone, Chloe looks at it. Then she deftly types in a number that she can be reached at — the library, not her own number. "I'm there most evenings. Easiest place for you to reach me."

"Thank you," he replies, smiling, as he takes the phone back. "It was a pleasure to meet you, despite my incredible lack of tact."

"I bet," she says with a curt little nod. Chloe figures he'll probably hunt her down and use her for an experiment anyhow. "I will be expecting your call," she says, forcing the glumness from her voice.

Slowly, his head shakes. "I will be in touch," he assures her, with another pleasant smile. He lifts up the book he had selected. "I hope to see you soon, Chloe Cornett." With that, he turns to leave.

Chloe allows him to leave before her, waiting until he's up at the cash before she mutters, "Awwww crap…" So not good.

Will makes it all the way outside before muttering a message to one of the subtle men with him. "Follow her," he orders, "don't get seen. I will need to know where she lives."

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