It was gentle and blustery outside, the signs of early autumn were everywhere, brushing the trees with orange red and yellow leaves, and brushing the straight dark hair of a 16 year old vampire by the name of Olive Leostat, who sat in the window sill of an opened corridor window, an old book resting upon her knees. Though it appeared that she had read a good portion of the novel, Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, Olive's eyes were no loner pouring over the book, but taking in the sights of a portion of the grounds decorated by fall.
Lifting a cold, stoney but delicate hand to her cheek, fingers curled into a slight fist, Olive leant her fist against her cheek and left the weight of her her head rest there. Though the position wasn't very comfortable, and the teen moved to gather her knees to her chest, and layed her head sideways atop them, keeping her topaz gaze out the open window. The book closed and folded by her feet, had always been a favorite of Olive's. The story was interesting in itself, but Olive was never one to just look at the simplicity of something -- she always looked deeper.
A distracted hum came to her lips, as she waited for the evening to begin. It was just about sunset and a dull orange light flooded the open-windowed corridor. Olive felt the heat of the sun on her hair and sweater, and only hoped that it wouldn't touch her skin. It was almost as cliche as the myth about vampires and the sun -- however, when it touched their skin, the pale and cool surface would begin to sparkle. It was a funny thing almost, that the myth about burning in the sun turned to something so strangely beautiful. And that's what vampires were -- strange, but graceful and scarily beautiful things.
A silence fell across the corridor as Olive realized tonight would probably be a lonely night unless she could find something to do. Olive never found fatigue during the nights, as she no longer needed to enter her rem cycle. Night times were usually spent with siblings, or out in the forest during a hunt or just to observe her surroundings. Tonight, Olive had no desire to be by herself, and made a mental note to talk to her sister or a friend about staying up a littel later. That was, unless a welcome distraction could come along to rescue her from boredom and lonliness.
Olive, seemingly lost in her own head, actually jumped when she heard a quiet, tentative and male voice ask her name so shyly and nervously. She changed her position immediately, fearing that with the way she had been sitting in her school skirt, that he may have seen her underwear or something. Fumbling slightly but still possessing that eerie grace, Olive flattened her legs and looked up at him, running a hand through her hair quickly and distractedly.
She knew who he was -- Decco Wood. From the note passed earlier that day in class. Olive let her eyes quietly watch him before she looked unnaturally shyly down at her pale knees. "Hi," she spoke softly, but still in a clear and pretty voice. Sucking up her previous embarassment, Olive swung her legs around to stand up from where she stood on the window sill. Her feet found the floor as she stood, and took a step forward. "Decco.. right?" Olive asked him fiddling with a button her dress shirt without looking at it.
Her soft topaz gaze almost couldn't decide between watching his (handsome) facial expressions, or her shoes. Normally Olive wasn't so shy.. but it was new for her to meet someone only known through paper previously. They'd never met in person, but had agreed to do so -- and here they were. Without realizing she began to subtly rock on her heels, keeping her gaze focused on a tile on the floor to the left. "You're very..." She looked up, and couldn't help but let a slight, lopsided smile touch her cool lips, "Tall." Olive decided, noticing that he had a definite height advantage over her teenie 5'0" figure. With this, she found the courage to look him in the eye, a subdued look of friendliness touching her face.