Lust For Blue - Kaylor

The Stranger At The Door

AN  BECAUSE IM NICE
Warning: Domestic abuse
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Taylor blows out the twenty five candles on the birthday cake she was instructed to bake herself. Her husband smiles proudly and smooches her lips. She waits for him to cut a slice for her and then for himself. Desmond then leans in to take her hand but Taylor gently pulls away with an uncomfortable smile.

"My darling, you never let me kiss your hands" Desmond sighs as he slices a fork into his cake.

"I just don't like it, my love" Taylor replies and digs into her own slice so as not to continue the conversation.

"You haven't told me why, though. What's wrong with a little sign of affection, hmm?"

Taylor slams her fork down on the table "I just don't like it, Des. It's just one of those pet hates, you know? Like how you don't like it when the cats are in the kitchen. And I respect that so you just respect my wishes"

"Watch your tone, young lady" Desmond warns, suddenly dangerously agitated and tainting the once heartfelt occasion with his temper. 

"I'm sorry, dear" Taylor apologises immediately, for fear of receiving a punishment on her birthday. "I'm just tired I guess"

"Well, perhaps we should retire to bed early if you are feeling so fatigued that you would speak back to your husband and provider"

"I was foolish. I truly am sorry, my sweet"

"Good. Now finish your food and we can leave for our bed. I've locked up the whole house, so we'll be safe from those damn vampires if the rumours are true"

Desmond leaves the rest of his cake and then comes to a stand. He adjusts his bow tie and leaves Taylor in the kitchen, alone all by herself. She pushes her cake aside and then folds her arms, leaning her forehead against them in exhaustion. A pained sigh fizzles out from behind her sleeves. When a relieved grunt she slips her heels off under the table and stretches her toes. She takes out the clips in her hair and scatters them across the table. Finally Taylor unbuttons the first few buttons on the front of her dress and slouches against her chair. She gazes up at the ceiling and stares into empty space.

"Happy birthday to me" she whispers, curling a lock of now short blonde hair behind her ear. Desmond had hardly even noticed it the day she had it cut. And when he did he simply smirked and kissed her cheek. No words of how pretty she was or how it suited her. Nothing.

Taylor decides that sulking about her life won't make it any better. And so she stands up and begins to make her way upstairs. Just as she reaches the top step on the staircase, the doorbell rings. Desmond calls for Taylor to answer it, for he is already in bed. He is sure to warn his wife not to invite the stranger in; for if it is a vampire, that is the only way they can enter the house. Taylor curses under her breath and then descends the staircase once more. She quickly grabs her coat from the hanger next to the door before opening it and being greeted with a stone cold chill.

The figure at the door is hard to make out. The person is cloaked and very tall. Even taller than Taylor. The light brown cloak itself does not look very well kept. It's got a small hole on one side and the ends are beginning to fray and rip. Taylor squints in the dark to try and make out the face under the shadow of the hood. She can just about notice a pair of lips - and she wonders if they are smirking. Yes, there is a hint of a curl in their shape. It is hard to decipher the eyes, these are shrouded in rich darkness. Taylor wonders if she should feel intimidated by the situation. Nobody has spoken yet. The cold wind is eerily blowing the strands of the stranger's blondish hair to one side. And this person is so incredibly still the entire time that Taylor wonders if it is some sort of statue left at her doorstep. A child's cruel joke or prank.