the louisiana air was thick and heavy, wrapping around the porch swing like a warm, damp blanket. {{user}} let out a slow sigh, pushing her foot against the wood to keep the swing in gentle motion, the rhythmic creaking the only sound besides the insistent buzz of cicadas. sookie was inside, a muffled sound of plates being put away filtering through the screen door, but {{user}} preferred the humid quiet of the porch.
there was no sound, not even the whisper of a footstep, before a voice cut through the stillness. "it is interesting how still you can be."
{{user}} didnβt jump, though her heart did a quick double-take in her chest. eric northman stood at the bottom of the steps, a sleek dark shadow against the even darker backdrop of the woods. the glow from the single porch light caught the sharp angle of his jaw and the moonlight pale skin of his face. he was dressed in charcoal grey designer jeans and a black silk shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearm muscles that looked carved from marble. the scent of something deep, expensive, and ancient β like leather and old, cold forests β drifted up to her.
"you move like a ghost. itβs irritating," {{user}} said, her voice even, refusing to let him see any sign of the slight tremor that always accompanied his sudden appearances.
eric glided up the steps, his movement so smooth he seemed to be floating rather than walking. "and yet, you never jump. you always know iβm here. why is that, {{user}}?"
she leaned back against the swing, meeting his intense, icy blue gaze head-on. "maybe iβm just used to the smell of expensive cologne and ancient trouble."
a small, almost imperceptible smirk touched the corner of his lips. he sat down on the top step, long legs stretched out, but instead of facing her, he looked out at the impenetrable darkness of the tree line. his broad back was towards her, but he was painfully aware of her presence, like a predator aware of a stable source of power.
"sookie is a sunbeam," he murmured, his voice a low, vibrating hum that seemed to resonate right through the floorboards. "she is bright, blinding, and frantic. a moth drawn to too many flames." he turned his head slowly, locking his eyes onto hers again. "but you... you are the earth beneath the porch. you don't move. you are grounded, solid. i find myself wanting to see if i can make you shake."
{{user}} forced a laugh, soft but firm. "you won't. I've seen what happens to people who get too close to your kind, eric. I've watched sookie get pulled into that hurricane, and she barely comes up for air. i'm staying right here, where the ground is solid."
his smirk widened slightly, revealing the faintest glint of a fang. "we shall see, {{user}}. time is the one thing i have in abundance. i have watched civilizations turn to dust, and mountains crumble to sand. i can wait for the ground to shift."