[There's an incredibly long pause of silence before the sound of glass breaking can be heard over the call. The vase Edward had been holding had slipped out of his hands, falling to the floor, only to press against his chest instead.]
[Seriously bro, she's the one who just died and suddenly woke up with no wounds at all. Though, it's also not the first time that she's technically done this, so.]
You...[He swallows. He can't say it over the phone like this.]
I'll see you shortly.
[And with that the call is ended. Brb he's literally bolting out the door, dressed clad in black and running as fast as he can to the fountain where Vanessa said she was.]
[She stares at the phone once he's hung up, entirely confused. What the hell was all that about?
But this way she'll at least have someone to walk her home, so that's a bonus. Maybe deep down that's what she'd wanted all this time with this phone call. She tucks it back into the pocket of her slacks and sits down to rest her back against the base of the fountain and lay her head against her knees. Her whole body aches, her throat is burning and her muscles are stiff as they all remember how to work again. It's like 10 sleep comas all catching up at once, but at least she's alive. She can smell the air, hear the water in the fountain. That's better than death, right?
She'll still be sitting there, huddled against the fountain when he arrives.]
[He runs all the way there, out of breath when he does arrive, catching his breath as he makes his way over to her, a hand against his chest as he breathes. She's there, sitting, and for a fearful moment he fears it's just a phantom once again. She looks far less translucent however. Perhaps...perhaps it truly was her.]
[She waits in silence, letting the last moments of her life replay in her head. There are a few things that she can't remember fully, some things that she's probably repressed on purpose, but she's sure of one thing right away: it had been her fault. She'd run into that fight on her own and had let her own stupid pride be her downfall.
But she's brought back out of this internal angst as she hears him call out her name. All at once she's sitting up, watching him with a startled but very lucid expression.]
Of course it is, who else would it be? [She stands, a little shaky.]
[A ghost, he replies in his head. The undead. But he says neither of these things. It should be obvious, he thinks, he's dressed from head to toe in black for a reason.]
You...You died, Vanessa. You were murdered.
[It hurts to say. He's trying to keep himself composed and not rush over to her and do something unsightly.]
I-I found you laying there and then, a week later, I came across your restless spirit, a phantom.
[Does he sound like he has hysteria yet?]
Yet now you are here, in the flesh. Returned and well. Oh God, I do hope you are well.
[He may get his usual composure and personality from his mother, but his dramatics are all from his father. Without another word he moves to embrace her, pulling her tight against his chest, face buried into her shoulder.]
[That's right...she hadn't had a chance to think about it until he brought it up, but they were supposed to be meeting each other that evening. He would have come across her first unless someone else happened down that street at just that moment. But what on earth is he talking about? A restless spirit? That makes no sense at all, perhaps he really had gone mad. She certainly understands; there had been more than one occasion in the past when her terrifying dreams had seemed so real.
But she doesn't have time to question it, because a moment later he's attached like a barnacle and she can only stand there in shock and confusion. There's a shaky exhale, and her shoulder that he's pressed against trembles as she attempts to stand as still as possible.]
C-calm down...there's no reason for these hysterics, I'm...
[Her words cut through him like a scolding would, even if her tone is anything but. He silences himself then. She's solid enough, real enough, that he can hold her in his arms, and realizing his imposing actions he immediately draws back, embarrassed, black gloved fingers, as dark as the rest of his attire, resting gently against her shoulders.]
I apologize! I became so suddenly overwhelmed I simply had to...
[Make sure it really was her, and not some clever ghost or trick.]
[She's still too surprised to get actual words out, but she does get enough of her wits back to notice what he's wearing. Abruptly, she reaches up and grabs hold of the sleeve of his dark jacket.]
['Of course I was,' he says. So simply. As though there were no other option. Back home, no one would have mourned her. The only people who had cared were all dead by the time her funeral would have happened. This is something that she hadn't expected in the least.
Her face goes completely red, so she tilts her chin down and drops her gaze to the ground.]
No, there's definitely no need for it now. [She's still hanging onto his sleeve.] I - I need to go home.
[He nods, pink himself, before offering up his arm to her. As much as he wants to insist she come home with him instead, it's not his place to demand such a thing. All he can do is abide by her wishes.]
Of course...Are you sure you needn't see a doctor?
[She takes it and holds him close, as though to help shield her from the rest of the world. Even though she's still mortified by his actions during her brief time departed from this world, he's the only person that she can fully depend on right now.]
What am I supposed to say to them? 'I just woke up after having been dead a week, am I healthy'?
[He stays silent at that, letting his gaze drop to the road as he begins to lead her toward her home. She would be fine as long as she could get home. Edward could only hope that would be the case.]
[She refuses to cry about this. It's not even the first time she's died, she reminds herself. She thinks back to when she arrived here the first time, how she'd nervously kept her hand around her throat as Vincent had walked with her to meet Elliot without realizing why.
That same free hand moves up to rest on her neck now, tracing a line across her throat. She doesn't feel a scar, even though for some reason she'd expected to this time.]
What did you say before? You saw me as a restless spirit?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice;
[The word comes out as a whisper, so she takes a breath and tries again, louder this time.]
Yes.
voice;
Where are you-?! You must tell me at once!
voice;
What was that noise?!
voice;
voice;
Near the fountain. I just woke here - a few minutes ago.
voice;
Stay there! I'll be only a short moment!
voice;
[But she's not about to tell him not to come and get her, either.]
voice;
You can scold me in person if it suits your fancy!
voice;
[Seriously bro, she's the one who just died and suddenly woke up with no wounds at all. Though, it's also not the first time that she's technically done this, so.]
voice;
I'll see you shortly.
[And with that the call is ended. Brb he's literally bolting out the door, dressed clad in black and running as fast as he can to the fountain where Vanessa said she was.]
action;
But this way she'll at least have someone to walk her home, so that's a bonus. Maybe deep down that's what she'd wanted all this time with this phone call. She tucks it back into the pocket of her slacks and sits down to rest her back against the base of the fountain and lay her head against her knees. Her whole body aches, her throat is burning and her muscles are stiff as they all remember how to work again. It's like 10 sleep comas all catching up at once, but at least she's alive. She can smell the air, hear the water in the fountain. That's better than death, right?
She'll still be sitting there, huddled against the fountain when he arrives.]
action;
Vanessa?
[He calls her name warily.]
Is it truly you?
action;
But she's brought back out of this internal angst as she hears him call out her name. All at once she's sitting up, watching him with a startled but very lucid expression.]
Of course it is, who else would it be? [She stands, a little shaky.]
Edward, honestly, what's the matter with you?
action;
You...You died, Vanessa. You were murdered.
[It hurts to say. He's trying to keep himself composed and not rush over to her and do something unsightly.]
I-I found you laying there and then, a week later, I came across your restless spirit, a phantom.
[Does he sound like he has hysteria yet?]
Yet now you are here, in the flesh. Returned and well. Oh God, I do hope you are well.
[He may get his usual composure and personality from his mother, but his dramatics are all from his father. Without another word he moves to embrace her, pulling her tight against his chest, face buried into her shoulder.]
I'm incredibly relieved!
action;
But she doesn't have time to question it, because a moment later he's attached like a barnacle and she can only stand there in shock and confusion. There's a shaky exhale, and her shoulder that he's pressed against trembles as she attempts to stand as still as possible.]
C-calm down...there's no reason for these hysterics, I'm...
[Her voice wavers and trails off.]
action;
I apologize! I became so suddenly overwhelmed I simply had to...
[Make sure it really was her, and not some clever ghost or trick.]
action;
What is this? Are you...in mourning?
action;
Of course I was! Although I suppose there's no need for it any longer...
action;
Her face goes completely red, so she tilts her chin down and drops her gaze to the ground.]
No, there's definitely no need for it now. [She's still hanging onto his sleeve.] I - I need to go home.
action;
Of course...Are you sure you needn't see a doctor?
action;
What am I supposed to say to them? 'I just woke up after having been dead a week, am I healthy'?
[She shakes her head.]
I'll be fine if I can just get home.
action;
As you wish.
action;
That same free hand moves up to rest on her neck now, tracing a line across her throat. She doesn't feel a scar, even though for some reason she'd expected to this time.]
What did you say before? You saw me as a restless spirit?
action;
Yes. Haunting the place where you had been struck down.
action;
Edward...were you really that mad with grief?
[She sounds concerned, but still a little stern.]
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