An Unlikely Prophet

[Sandkitten]

The year is now 1955.

[SharpestLife19]

Grace stands before the mirror in her room. Everything in it has changed, but nothing as much as she has. She's filled out from her awkward teen years enough that she no longer looks like a girl with chicken legs. Her once long hair has been cut just below the ears. She did the perm herself and it gave her hair a pretty soft wave. She has her own lipstick now and is applying it while brushing back a stray wave. She has a date to get ready for.

She blots her lipstick and opens her mouth slightly as she puts on eyeliner. She wants to be as pretty as Marilyn Monroe, though she would never bleach her hair like that. Besides, Frankie likes her hair just the way it is. When she thinks of him, Grace can't help but to smile. She and Frankie met in high school and had been dating since their senior year. She had told everyone when he gave her his pin. She wore it proudly on her sweater every day and still wore it even after graduation and a lot of high school friends moving away or getting too busy to hang around anymore.

Frankie always made time for Grace and she always made time for him. She knew they weren't anything amazing. She was working with her mother doing alterations and laundry and Frankie was working with George who owned the gas station fixing up cars. It was nothing fancy, just life. But as a pair, she felt like they were special. She felt like she loved him, but there was something missing.

Though she would never tell anyone, Grace longed for something more. She had no idea what it was, which was why she couldn't have it, but she wanted something different and interesting. But she couldn't tell anyone. Her mother would just laugh and tell her they couldn't afford to be interesting. And Frankie, silly boy, really thought he was interesting.

Well, he wasn't dull. He was just so...normal. Grace didn't really know how to put into words what she thought about him, but she wouldn't tell him if she could because she cared too much about him. She examined herself one last time in the mirror and switched off the radio, interrupting This Magic Moment. She picks her shoes up off the floor and sits down to put them on. She had saved for such a long time to get a pair of pumps and she adored them so much that she wore them almost all the time.

She stood again and straightened her dress out. Her mother wasn't fond of the new style in dresses. She thought it showed too much off, showing bare shoulders and God forbid, cleavage. But Grace loved it and had made herself a handful of dresses like that. She decided she looked wonderful and she could go downstairs and wait for Frankie to pick her up.

[Sandkitten]

It's been years - less than ten, in this world's timeframe, perhaps more in his own, though sometimes it feels as though it could have been merely days, as time can be quite difficult to pin down, being irrelative to someone who doesn't feel its passing. Nevertheless, it's been a while since he last stood on this street. The houses haven't changed much - a fresh coat of paint, sidewalks added, trees a little taller, numbers painted on the curb - and the residents haven't either. The one house in particular that he's interested in is a small two-story, and the window he's watching is the front second-story with long gauze curtains. He can't see through them, but he knows that the girl he left behind is in that room - though she's probably not a girl anymore. If his math serves, she'll be on the cusp of womanhood by now. And she'll likely have forgotten about him altogehter. But he never did forget her.

He's standing under the streetlamp on the other side of the street, though it's not dark enough outside for it to be lit yet. If anyone were looking, they probably wouldn't notice him anyway - he seems to blend in with the background, to the point that someone might do a double-take, and find that there's no one standing there at all. It's much easier to be distinguishable only to one person when that person is right beside you - slightly more difficult when they're some distance away - such as inside a house, on the other side of the street.

Something kept him from simply appearing in her room - he can't put his finger on it, but it simply didn't feel like the appropriate thing to do. Perhaps because she's a young lady now... or perhaps because she has plans. Plans that are probably unimportant, but nonetheless, he feels that she's owed some measure of respect, so he waits patiently. She can't stay in that house forever, and sometime she's got to look out the window.

His train of thought is interupted as a car rolls up in front of the house, and a young man steps out, moving to the door. Well... that certainly would account for plans. Her choice in playmates has certainly taken a change of course. Well, he won't interupt her evening, but that doesn't mean he won't still want to talk to her. More than talk, he means to borrow her, in a way. But for now he simply watches and waits for her to appear.

[SharpestLife19]

The door bell rings and Grace rushes to get it. Frankie sweeps her into a hug and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Grace smiles coyly and blushes ever so slightly. "Hi, Frankie." The young man in front of her stands taller than she does and has cleaned himself up from work now wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a crisp white t-shirt. He seems charming for a greaser and Grace certainly likes him. Grace heads out the door with Frankie. "What's playing at the drive-in?" He puts his arm around her, "To Catch a Thief. It's got Cary Grant." Frankie was always ribbing Grace for her schoolgirl crush on the star. She smiles, she enjoys the way they play. "I just adore Hitchcock films. This will be lovely."

Although he doesn't look like much, Frankie's a gentleman. He opens Grace's door for her and shuts it once she's in. He climbs into the driver's side and they start off down the street. Grace looks out the window and sees someone who looks oddly familiar, though she can't imagine why. It's not someone from town, she's sure of that. But there's something about him...She decides to let it go, realizing Frankie was talking to her. "Pardon me?" He glances over at her. "You alright, Grace?" She nods, "I'm fine. Just...um, got a little dizzy. I'm ok now." Frankie doesn't look totally convinced, but he's letting it go for now. "Ok, Grace. Let me know if you start to not feel good or whatever." She nods obligingly. "Of course."

The pair find a place at the drive-in and Frankie puts his arm around Grace again. She cuddles up to him to watch the show, but she still has that familiar looking stranger in the back of her mind. She tries not to show it. Frankie would be concerned and she doesn't want to bother him with something that might be all in her head. So she tries to keep her mind on the movie, though at one point she must've been obviously somewhere else since Frankie gives her cheek a kiss and asks again if she's ok. She smiles as convincingly as she can manage and nods. "I'm fine, I guess there's just a lot on my mind tonight." Frankie urges her to talk about it, but she refrains. He lets her do that, even though it worries him a bit that she doesn't want to talk about whatever is bothering her.

Grace knows that Frankie's concerned for her, but she doesn't want to tell him about the man she saw. She just hopes that whoever that man is, he isn't here now. She would be more concerned if she saw that he followed her here. She wants to look around for him, but doesn't want to bother Frankie anymore than she already has, so she keeps her head on his shoulder until the movie is over.

They rarely went home after the movie, usually they'd stay for the second one or go somewhere else and catch a burger or something, but Frankie suggested they go home so Grace could get some rest since she didn't seem to be feeling well. Grace was glad for this suggestion and let him drive her home. He opens the door for her again and walks her to her door where he gives her a kiss. She returns his kiss quite happily before bidding him goodnight and going back into her house. From inside she peers out the window and looks for that man.

[Sandkitten]

Vincent is still under the street lamp on the other side of the street. It's lit now, but oddly, he doesn't seem to produce a shadow. Stranger still, instead of turning him into a sillohette, it seems to illuminate him from beneith as well as above, as if the light simply bounces off the sidewalk and bounces back upon his person. He doesn't appear to have moved at all since she laid eyes on him earlier. In fact, he hasn't.

What he HAS done while she's been away on her social excursion, is think about what he's doing, with regard to her in particular. She's in his book - she owes him a debt paid - but she was never on the books to live an extraordinary life. Most people aren't. Some few individuals each generation break out of the bonds of obscurity and make names for themselves - mostly flash-in-the-pan varieties, but there are the exceptions. But for him to actually pull her from a pile of unknowns and give her defference - well, it's something he's done before, and it's likely something he'll do again, so he can't quite put his finger on why this instance is different.

Perhaps it's because somehow he knows that she'll be a completely different person now. Perhaps she doesn't even believe in angels anymore. Well, all the better, if she's studied and drawn her own conclusions. Of course, the alternative is much less lighthearted. He's been given several assignments lately that haven't quite settled right with him. He's much more like Michael than Gabriel in that sense; however, he's much more like Gabe in that he's never endured his own Human experience - though Gabe is nothing more than a war machine. From time to time, he suspects that there's not even a soul behind those eyes... or that if there is one, it's not one of His making.

When he senses that he's being watched, which can only mean that Grace has taken notice of him, he looks up at the window, where he finds his suspicion confirmed as her curious face peers out at him. From here, he can tell that it's the same girl - the eyes are the same, but everything else has changed. She has a lady's face now, and a short modern haircut to set it off her features, which need no cosmetics, but there they are anyway. His own clothing is less modern - he doesn't much care for the cut of the fashions, and he suspects that the best has already come and gone, in that respect. His clothing is much the same as it was when he met her - nondescript, and drawn over by a long coat, accented only by his hair and unchanging features.

[SharpestLife19]

Grace is disturbed by the fact the man is not only still there but hasn't appeared to move at all. She notes that he has no shadow from the light and that it seems to make him glow rather than hide him. She feels like she should be afraid and yet, there is still something familiar there. She can't put her finger on it still, but there is something about him. She chews thoughtfully on her lower lip, trying to decide if she should go over and see who he is and what he wants.

She is fairly sure that her mother is asleep, so she quietly slips out and crosses the street to the strange man. "Excuse me, but I can't help but notice you've been standing here for quite some time. Are you lost?" She keeps her distance from the stranger, but is close enough to see him better now. What strange clothing he has. Grace is sure she's never seen anything like that before. "You aren't from around here, are you?" Her eyes narrow slightly as she grows more suspicious of him.

[Sandkitten]

"Not from around here would seem something of an understatement." He notices the distance she keeps between them, and he turns slightly to face her, but doesn't move any closer. "I'm not lost at all, I've simply come to collect on a favor some nine years aging." He gives her a moment, hoping that she'll recognize his voice. It's so much less dramatic when they simply remember him, than when he has to re-introduce himself all over again. "Give your mind a moment to find my place in it. How's your mother?"

[SharpestLife19]

Grace still feels as if she knows this man and that disturbs her. It's not possible. But there is something...his voice...it's so familiar. But why would it be? She's trying very hard to remember where she knows him from. But when he asks about her mother, there's a breakthrough. Her mouth gapes open as she stares at him, suddenly remembering a time she spent in the hospital next to her mother's side. And someone had saved her. It was him. She can't seem to speak at first, all the memory of that time rushing back at once is a lot to take in. She had believed so strongly that God would save this town. What a silly little girl she'd been. She shuts her mouth when she realizes she's been standing gaping at the man.

"Mister Vincent." Though at her age, she feels strange uttering those words, she wouldn't feel right calling him anything else. "I'm so sorry, I forgot all about you." Her hand rises to her chest as if she can hold all the emotion in with it. "To be honest, I thought I imagined you." She looks away, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I suppose it's time for me to pay what's owed."

[Sandkitten]

Well, she doesn't seem particularly happy to see him, but she doesn't seem particularly upset either, so things are already going better than expected. He's not sure how many encounters of a much less friendly nature he's come up against when calling to collect on similar overdue favors. Still, something holds him back from simply taking her away immediately. He's not sure what, but he has the troubling sensation once again of having some familiarity with her, a bond of some sort. While some part of his mind works to sort that out, he offers her a slight smile. "I'm pleased you remember my name... but you can drop the "Mister," it's unnecessary, and an identifying title that means nothing to me."

Stepping out of the illumniation of the street lamp, he approaches her, but gestures to her house rather than taking her by the shoulder. "I'm in no particular rush to whisk you away just yet, and it's been a long time since I've seen you... I know you may not believe it, but I never did lose interest in you, and I'd like to catch up a little - find out what you've been up to these past years.

It's dark enough here that she can't see his eyes, though he suspects she remembers the ordeal of questioning him over them before, and he hopes that once she sees them again she won't be alarmed all over again. But stranger things have happened, and Humans have an amazing way of recalling only what suits them, so he can't be sure of what she'll think of that, or of his being here at all. There's a sure way to know, but he finds it a rather crude thing to intrude in someone's thoughts without their permission.

[SharpestLife19]

She certainly didn't think about him for all this time and she finds it hard to believe that anyone of a celestial nature would be bothered to think about what she's been doing, but she decides to go along with it. At least that means she doesn't have to find out right away what she'll have to do for him. She remembers not being able to imagine what an angel would need help with when she met him first and she still can't imagine now.

Grace's gaze follows the angel's over to her house. "Very well, come inside." She starts for the door. "I would offer you tea, but I don't think you drink, do you?" She never thought to ask that when she was younger, though now it seems like a sensible thing to have thought about. Ideas she had when she was a child flood her mind and she has a strange sensation of being a child and a woman all at once. She's not sure how she feels about this, it's definitely odd.

Even if Mister Vincent, rather Vincent doesn't drink, she puts the kettle on for herself. "My mother is sleeping, I'll have to be rather quiet." She takes a seat at the little square kitchen table. "You can have a seat if you like." She gestures to one of the chairs. "What do you want to know? Don't you already know what I've been doing? Aren't you omniscient?"

[Sandkitten]

He smiles slightly as she begins to ask questions again. "Why wouldn't I drink? I have a body, it requires nourishment just the same as yours does... well, not exactly the same - but I'm perfectly capable of eating and drinking anything that you do. Tea would be nice." Following her inside, he takes a seat as offered, and once the water is on the stove, he silences the room around them so that they can have a private conversation without interuption, or fear of interuption.

"If I were omniscient, I would be a god, not an errand-runner. And if I were a god, I would be omniscient and omnipresent, so I wouldn't need errand-runners or messangers, or any help at all. No... there is no such thing as omniscience, only the idea or appearance of omniscience. No one being is absolute, in any way. The only reason for someone to spread an idea like that is in order to spread fear, to rein in control." He stops himself before he really lets something slip that he might regret - he's already been treading hot water lately, and he doesn't need to aggrivate things further. Omniscience be damned, there's still such a thing as having eyes and ears everywhere.

"Anyway, I'm interested in anything you feel like telling me. I hope you graduated at the top of your class - you certainly had the smarts for it. Tell me about your life - and this boy you're seeing, is he as smart as you? Ought to be." He lounges in the chair, crossing his legs, and watches her with a quiet and casual demeanor. In this harsh light, it's quiet easy to see his crimson eyes, gold flecks swirling and almost seeming to shimmer in the light.

[SharpestLife19]

Grace shrugs, "I don't know how angels insides work. I didn't know if you ate and drank or if you were just..." She shrugs again, "I don't know what." She smiles sweetly. "I can't say I ever thought about it before now, though with all the questions I asked when I was a little girl, I'm surprised that wasn't one of them." She isn't startled by his eyes, that memory was lingering somewhere in the back of her mind .

She listens to what he says about omniscience and isn't exactly sure what that means. If there is no one absolute being, does that mean there is no God? Why would so many people believe something like that if it weren't true? Although it would rather explain why her prayers never got answered except for when she prayed to Vincent here. But there clearly are angels, so there are some heavenly beings anyway. She decides she can think more about it later.

She certainly never thought she'd be having tea with an angel. It's almost amusing. "Well, I graduated, but I wasn't top of the class. I just wanted to be a regular high school kid, not a square or anything." Her face lights up at the mention of her beau. "Oh, Frankie's a great guy. He's pretty smart. Well, I think he is. He knows a lot of things I don't but I know a lot things he doesn't too. We know different kinds of things, you know what I mean?" Grace rises and goes to get cups for the both of them. "Where have you been all this time?"

[Sandkitten]

He watches the expression of puzzlement cross her features, and the sheen sticks behind her eyes. He's dangerously close to piercing the veil with this one, he knows - something that's supposedly taboo for his kind, though the history books of every world are filled to the brim with legends of exactly that sort of thing happening, so it's not an unreasonably uncommon incident. But for him to guide her to those sorts of thoughts without instruction to do so... that's the kind of thing that will land him in trouble, one of these days.

Her expression undergoes a marked change when she begins to talk about this "Frankie". The change is almost repulsive to him - the burning candle of curiosity behind her eyes is snuffed out, and replaced by a complacent and dull throb of darkness... something he's used to seeing in the eyes of most of the people he passes on the streets of any world. Well, at least she's happy - that's something, he supposes. It's what they strive for... it's what they've been told they're here for, so at least she's finding that. Still, it sickens him to see how quickly that bright light can be snuffed out. She has so much more potential than that. Still, he listens to her explination of how they "compliment" one another without interuption.

When she asks him where he's been, the shadow of a smile passes over his features, and he coughs quietly to interupt a laugh rising in his throat. "I've been... busy. In several places. I'm supposed to be a Harbinger, but for the last several - well, for quite a while now, I've been assigned various other tasks, to the point that I'm somewhat unsure that I'll retain my current title. Though I stil seem to have a knack for dragging Death along on my heels, whether I'm sent somewhere as a Harbinger or not." He glances up at her. "Not to fear, I haven't brought him to your doorstep - I'm not here on official business."

[SharpestLife19]

The kettle goes off and Grace rises to tend to it. She pours some water in both of the mugs and puts a teabag in each as well. "Sugar's in the bowl here." She motions toward a little striped bowl on the table. "Do you take cream?" As she sits again, she slips her heels off. She adores the way they look but they get tiring on her feet. She's very relieved to hear that Vincent didn't bring death with him this time. She could do without that for now. She looks perplexed by his answer, "What have you been doing? Or should I not know that?"

When she thinks about it a bit more, she remembers the last time she saw him. Her grandmother had just passed away and she doubted whether or not Vincent actually existed. She had called him here to her house, and he had come. He looked so strange, as if he hadn't been here at all. "Vincent, the last time you were here, you looked so odd. Where were you?"

[Sandkitten]

Vincent takes his tea with a quiet "thank you," and stirs it thoughtfully while she continues to question him regarding his absense these past years. He foregoes cream, but does add a spoonful of sugar to his cup, and watches as it disolves in the hot water while it spins off his spoon. Well, there's that inquisitiveness again. He has to admit, that while she's asking questions on the fringe of taboo, he much prefers to see her thinking than simply being. His eyes stay carefully on his tea as he speaks, and affect on his countinence is almost demure, but the tone of his voice adds much more mystery.

"I suppose that given the circumstance, there's no point in hiding certain truths from you - but I am forbidden to discuss some of these truths, so I will give you as much information as I can, and from there, it will be up to you to work the rest out... I can only confirm or deny. When you called me to you, I was fighting in a war - not in this world. And not between heaven and hell, for there are no such places. There are places which, if seen by someone of your particular paradigm, may appear to resemble those places, but there are no absolutes." He sips his tea and looks at her over the edge of the cup, gold flecks in his eyes swirling still against the crimson. "I cannot tell you the name of the place where I was... but it was not unlike your Earth."

[SharpestLife19]

Grace continues to look confused. Given the circumstances? What exactly did that mean? And there was a war between places that aren't heaven and hell. That was even more perplexing. She wasn't sure if she believed in such places, but if they didn't exist, then it didn't matter. But overall, the whole idea was confusing. "Vincent, I'm afraid I don't understand. You're saying heaven and hell don't exist but SOMETHING is there...What is it? And why did they send you to be part of it? Actually, who sent you anyway? None of this makes sense at all, Vincent." Grace sips her tea, it's the only certain thing at the moment.

[Sandkitten]

He sips his tea quietly as she continues to ask questions, but his brow furrows ever so slightly as he watches her eyes. The light behind them is dim - she's not even trying to work out any of this on her own. Perhaps he should have told her to keep thinking, when she was a child, rather than simply to ask questions. She can ask all of the questions in the world, but if she isn't using her brain, then what's the point of giving her the answers?

"Let's forget for a moment what I am. We'll use that as an unknown variable. I'm not of this world, and yet I am here - I'm not of the place where I was at war, yet I was there. If someone is passing orders to me, and I'm able to be in these places, even though I do not belong to them, then what does that tell you, about me, and about the being giving me direction?"

[SharpestLife19]

Grace looks up from her tea. She feels like she's back in school without an answer for the teacher. What he's saying makes very little sense. It doesn't help that she hasn't thought of anything not of this world since the last time he was around. She forgot that there was anything not of this world, so now trying to understand it is incredibly difficult. She raises her hand to her head in a weary gesture common to those with a headache. "Vincent, I haven't thought about anything not of this world since the last time you were here. I forgot you and anything else like you even existed and now you expect me to understand you?" She shakes her head. "This is too much."

[Sandkitten]

"Oh don't give me that headache bit, we both know very well that your head is fine, your brain is simply soggy from not being excercised in so long. You've let it go soft - I'm beginning to doubt very much whether you've asked so many questions in the past year as you have asked me this evening. I told you that I couldn't give you the answers, and your it's-so-hard-to-think-because-I'm-just-a-girl routine is wearing on my nerves. I know exactly how much potential you have, Grace, and truthfully, you've squandered a great deal of it for want of fitting neatly in the pidgeonhole that society has carved out for you. Though you do that nicely enough."

He sets his tea down, and stands. "I didn't expect you to understand everything I told you... but I expected you to at least make an effort, so that I could meet you halfway. Whether you're in full understanding or not, I have need of a favor repaid, but I have little need nor patience for a girl with a mind half as useful as a child's. You disappoint me... badly."

He turns to leave, but hesitates, first pulling something from his pocket. It's another necklace, only this one isn't string and a pebble - it's a fine silver chain and a small charm that might be either metal or stone, it's difficult to tell. The shape of the charm is a multifaceted teardrop. He sets it on the table beside his cooling tea, and leaves it without explination before turning once more and vanishing once over the threshold of the kitchen, simply fading away to nothing as if he were simply so much smoke disappearing in the wind.

[SharpestLife19]

Her mouth is open to speak but before she gets a chance, Vincent is gone. She is left looking at the necklace on the table and trying to decide what it's for and also if she really wants to know. She's spent all this time just trying to fit in and be what she's expected to be only to find that the person who's opinion once meant the world to her is extremely disappointed. No one is supposed to be the same person they are as a child when they're grown up, but has she changed too much?

She clears away his glass, taking her own and the necklace upstairs with her. She sets it down and crouches down on the floor by her bed. Under the bed she knows there is a shoebox that has her diary from when she was young along with a few other childhood things she chose to keep. She finds the dusty little box and sighs at the sight of it. She wonders how many people keep their childhood boxed up like this, whether literally or not. And is this what people should be doing?

Grace opens the box and pulls out the diary inside. The little key is in the box as well. She opens the book, feeling as if she's opening the past as well. She starts at the beginning and reads it straight through, getting to know that little girl again. The almost impudent, curious little girl who believed in angels. Vincent was right to be disappointed in her. She was nothing like that little girl. What happened to her? Grace starts to cry, feeling like she's at a funeral for someone she forgot she knew.

All that she's given up just to fit in and what has that gained her? But if she hadn't done what she had, would she have been as happy as she has been? Although with some reexamining, she's not sure that happy is the word for what she has. Complacent and stupid, just like everyone else. No wonder Vincent left. She sighs and looks at the necklace. She's not sure what she's supposed to do with it, but can't help but notice that it looks sad. She wonders if Vincent was sad for the loss of little Gracie or if he's just angry at her for being what she is now.

When you spend your whole life trying to be somebody and suddenly find that you shouldn't be that person, what is there left to do? She takes some old photos out of the shoebox. Little Gracie, age ten. There must be a way to get her back. Grace wipes her eyes and curls up in bed, holding the picture. She realizes she's exhausted. Tomorrow she will start trying to find Gracie again. Tonight is the last night of fitting in. She holds the picture close to her chest. "I'll find you, Gracie. I promise."

[Sandkitten]

Vincent walks, unnoticed by all, down the street in a somber way. There's really no need for him to walk anywhere - he can be almost anywhere he wants to be with as much effort as a thought, but he wants to walk. His body may not be made of the same flesh and blood as the people of this world, it may not need the same nourishment or exercise, and it may not deteriorate around him as theirs do, but he still takes some small pleasure in the simple comfort of acting out the motions of being alive - moving, breathing, speaking - things that aren't inherently required of him, but which have always given him a sense of self.

Grace is as good as gone. There's another unsettling feeling deep in his chest now, and he flexes in discomfort as he walks, trying to pinpoint its origin. He knows what it is to feel sadness, anger, disappointment - he has all of the feelings that a sentient being should have, but he rarely has cause to delve into the intricacies of them all. It's no good for a Harbinger to be overly sympathetic, or for a Messenger to have a strong sense of defiance. This uncomfortable feeling gnaws at him as he walks, and for the first time in a long time, he sighs deeply.

Perhaps it's better that she stay as ignorant as she is now. At least for his own purpose - that won't make it any easier to watch over her, but it will at least mean that she won't be terribly affected by the chore he's about to place on her shoulders. His list has run short of late - he's been doing fewer favors, as he feels he's being watched more and more closely. If he didn't need to use her for this, he probably would have let her debt pass altogether. But he needs to know things that he has no access to - and through backwards happenstance, she can help him obtain that insight.

His wanderings last for hours, until he finds himself once again in front of her house, standing under the street lamp. Though this time, if she were to look out the window, she would see no one. He'll give her the night... and when she's rested, and he's shaken both the irritation of her squandered potential, as well as the sickening feeling in his chest, he'll make use of her. Then he'll leave her alone, to finish her Human experience with her mother and Frankie, hopefully never to recall his name again.

[SharpestLife19]

In the morning, Grace rises from bed. Last night seems like a bad dream, but in her heart she knows it's real. She finds her childhood picture beside her in bed and frowns. She made a promise. She doesn't know how to follow through with it. She goes down to breakfast, though she doesn't much feel like eating. Her mother hasn't gotten up yet, which is fine with her. She doesn't want to be bothered with talking.

Grace gets a bowl of cereal and sits at the table, thinking of sitting here with Vincent yesterday. She wishes she could fix that, but there is no going back. She eats her cereal without thinking about it at all. All her thoughts are focused on how to be who she used to be again. It seems almost impossible. But it's not completely impossible, she's sure of that. Somehow, there is a way.

She's concentrating on that so thoroughly that she stops eating without realizing it. She sits with a spoonful of cereal half-raised that doesn't move. She wants desperately to find an answer, but she keeps coming up short. After sitting like this for a moment, she places the spoon back in the bowl with a sigh. She's disappointed with herself. There is a way here and she's too stupid to see it. That angers her and she stands with huff. She begins pacing the kitchen, as if moving around will exercise her mind as well as her legs.

[Sandkitten]

Vincent opens his eyes when he begins to hear cars pass him on the street in the morning. He's still standing where he was last night, under the street lamp, which is off again. Well, he's leaning against it, but standing nonetheless. It's bright out, but no one seems to notice him - as it should be. Looking at the house across the street, the feelings from last night return to his mind, but he pushes them aside before they can take root. Though it doesn't appear as though anyone is stirring, so he decides to go for another walk around the city before he bothers Grace.

The scenery is much unchanged, though traffic is heavier than it was late at night, with more cars and pedestrians busying the streets and sidewalks. He sticks to the sidewalks, not needing the added difficulty of dodging cars on his jaunt, and after an hour or so he circles back once again to the familiar quiet neighborhood, and the little house across the street.

Rendering himself visible once again, should she happen to be looking for him, he takes up his post under the street lamp, and waits. He's not sure what he's waiting for - only that he's not ready to collect her yet. Maybe this was a bad idea. Well, of course it's a bad idea - but it's something that he feels ought to be done.

[SharpestLife19]

Grace has been busy pacing in the kitchen, unable to see out the front window. She decides to go collect the paper from the front step and when she steps outside, she sees Vincent is there under the lamp post again. She stops picking up the paper and looks over there, mid-crouch. She rises again without picking up the paper and waves him over. She hopes he'll come and talk to her again, but she can't be sure.

[Sandkitten]

When he sees her come outside, he raises an eyebrow. Her beckoning seems sincere, and so he pulls his hands over his coat pockets and crosses the street. Once he makes it up the walk to the front step, he puts his hands back into his pockets. "Care to invite me inside, or are we going to have words on the porch?" He doesn't care either way, but if she wants to keep up the appearance of normalcy, she probably doesn't want to talk to thin air in the front yard where her neighbors can see her.

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