Chapter Text
“Scott! Come on, Drift is waiting for us!” Shelby called out from downstairs, her voice dragging out the ends of her sentences as they paced back and forth. She murmured to herself, hoping he wouldn’t hear with his heightened senses, “For a vampire who’s over a thousand years old and looks like he’s in his early thirties, he sure takes his time like an old man.”
From upstairs, he rolls his eyes affectionately and yells back, “Oh, I’m sure she won’t be waiting long.” Scott scoffs slightly when he hears the repetitive tapping of his roommate’s foot, a subtle hint urging him to hurry up. “Alright, alright, I’m coming, jeez!”
As he walked down the steps of their shared flat, he gently petted their two cats, Elle and Starlord. Shelby was dressed in a cute black silk dress, complemented by a white petticoat skirt that they had bought during a shopping date with Drift. Her makeup was done lightly, featuring winged mascara and a smoky red lipstick. Scott kept his outfit simple, opting for a loose but fitted wine red shirt, paired with a zippered jacket that fell just below his waist. He wore charcoal grey pants, and his look was completed with eyeshadow that matched his shirt and black eyeliner. He was glad to see that gothic fashion was still popular, though it had been toned down from what he was used to.
Shelby grinned, her fangs peeking out from under her upper lip. “You look nice! Are you ready? I don’t wanna keep Drift waiting just ‘cause you needed to look perfect,” she teased, nudging her friend playfully as they prepared to leave.
Scott gave a deadpan fake laugh, as he rolled his eyes with a grin, “Very funny, Shelbs. Yes, I’m ready. Let's not keep your lovely Drift waiting.” As the two walked outside, he looked over his shoulder at Shelby. “It’s a bit cold out, so you should grab a coat; might look weird if you don’t.”
“Oh crap, you’re right! Gimme a second,” Shelby agreed, quickly turning to the coat rack. She grabbed a warm leather jacket and slipped it on as they walked with a smile, “Okay, I’m ready! Let’s go!”
The two vampires wandered down the lit street towards Drift’s place, just a short distance away, since they all preferred to be close to one another. Shelby danced along the pavement, her excitement shining as brightly as the twinkling lights that trimmed the store windows in anticipation of the festive season.
Scott walked beside her, smiling at how happy Shelby was at the prospect of seeing her girlfriend again, as if it wasn't only a few days ago. Though he kept his thoughts to himself, he genuinely appreciated Drift; she was kind-hearted and had a special way of bringing joy to Shelby, which meant everything to him. Shelby—she was like a little sister to him, something he never had, family in general. As they made their way to Drift’s place, Scott couldn't help but feel grateful for the warmth of their friendship during this magical time of year.
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“Drift!” Shelby exclaimed as she practically leaped into her girlfriend’s arms, spinning them around before planting a small kiss on her lips. Scott smiled politely at the two women in front of him. He felt glad that, despite everything they had survived and lost together, they were still happy. He never wished for that kind of happiness for himself; he never really cared much for it. Cam had changed that perspective many years ago, but Scott realized too late how much he had missed out on. He thought he had moved on, that the pain no longer hurt as much, but every time he was reminded of Cam, the hurt returned.
Drift was wearing a garnet red button-up shirt, along with a fitted ebony belt and pants. Scott waited for Shelby to move a bit closer before giving Drift a quick hug. He wasn't particularly fond of physical affection, but he always hugged the girls when they hadn't seen each other for a while. “Hey, Scott, you look nice,” Drift commented with a small giggle behind her.
“Yeah! He better; it took him forever to get ready! Wanted perfection,” Shelby pointed out to her girlfriend, a teasing undertone to their words
Scott shot his roommate a playful, yet non-threatening glare. “A man can want to look fabulous, dear Shelby, no matter his age. I guarantee I will never be underdressed,” he said, winking at her. The girls around him erupted in laughter.
“Okay, okay, whatever you say, Scott, let’s get moving,” Shelby bantered back playfully, waving their hand in front of his face with a mischievous grin. She gently nudged him back by the chest, causing him to stumble slightly. Scott looked up at her, his eyes wide and exaggeratedly put his hand on his chest, as if they had truly offended him, before breaking and turning into genuine laughter.
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The trio of friends strolls through the bustling stores, their laughter echoing through the aisles. As they cause a playful ruckus, Shelby suddenly trips over a misplaced item, falling to the floor and sending a cascade of goods tumbling after her. Drift bursts into laughter at the sight of her girlfriend’s clumsy misstep, her eyes sparkling with both amusement and affection. Meanwhile, Scott stands by, shaking his head in mock disapproval, a grin spreading across his face as he watches the two lovebats in their lighthearted mischief.
As they exited the bustling store, bags in hand, Shelby glanced at Scott with an eager smile. "You really need to watch 'Interview with the Vampire'! It’s really good!” she urged, her enthusiasm infectious, as they walked, and she added, “Trust me, you won’t regret it!” Scott raised an eyebrow, still skeptical, but Shelby was determined to convince him.
Scott stared at her, recalling her earlier suggestions about "Twilight." He could never forget how far-fetched he found the portrayal of vampires in that series. "It better not be like Sausage's 'Twilight' because that was awful. Shelby, how could you read that and enjoy the writing?" he questioned her, maintaining a deadpan expression
She laughed at his serious tone. They both knew how much he hated Twilight, and when a movie adaptation was released, his disdain only grew—even more than she thought possible. “I promise, it’s not like Twilight. If it were, I wouldn’t recommend it to you. I learned my lesson with that one.” Shelby giggled at the memory of Scott pacing back and forth, waving his hands wildly as he yelled about how the book got so many things wrong.
"I can actually vouch for my lovely Shelby. She got me to watch it, and I typically don’t like fantasy things at all, but I found the show to be quite good. Trust her on this one, Scott," Drift interrupted. Scott did trust their judgment; she was intelligent and often found the things people wrote about them, as well as the other supernatural stories, to be outlandish and foolish. So, her opinion on the topic made him more willing to consider Shelby's recommendation.
Scott kept his head forward, and kept walking, allowing the voices of the two girlfriends to fade into the background. He found himself disinterested in their conversation, even though he generally enjoyed a little drama. This time, however, their chatter involved biased matters that felt too personal for him to intrude upon. He was well aware that later in the day, Shelby would come to him with all the juicy details, so there was no need for him to eavesdrop. Instead, he chose to focus on his own thoughts, anticipating the stories he would hear and the insights he would gain from Shelby's recounting.
They all walked into Scott and Shelby’s flat, and the conversation between the two women ceased, pulling Scott out of his dissociation. “Shelby, what’s wrong? Are you alrig—” Scott stopped abruptly as he took in the sight before him. “Cam…?” he choked out.
"Hi," Cam let out a shaky breath, surprised to find himself still alive after the harrowing experience he had just endured.
No, no, no, this wasn’t real; his mind was playing tricks on him. Cam is actually alive? And he was here—HE’S HERE. HE’S OKAY! How is he okay? Scott thought he was dead; hell, everyone had believed he was dead. Yet here he stood right in front of Scott. He looked different: his eyes weren't their dark teal colour that they once were when Scott knew him, they were a faded rouge, with a nasty raw scar covering his right eye. The scar was riddled with sharp and rough edges, and yet the eye that the scar carved across, there was a hint of the original eye colour trying to peak through. His original hair color had faded and darkened, the smooth sandy tan blonde that Scott had first known him by, instead of the darkened colour scheme of light sandy brunette, he had by the end.
There was one thing that remained the same about his beloved Cam from the last time Scott saw him hundreds of years ago—he was still wearing the now blood-soaked blue ravenette button up, the clothes he had taken from Scott early into their relationship, unknown to him at the time: an ivory-white long sleeve trimmed with gold-accented buttons at the wrists, and a quartz-grey undershirt peaking out through the collar.
The girls ran toward him, their faces stained with blood running down their cheeks, each hug a mixture of relief and ache, but Scott remained frozen, shock coursing through him. The world faded into a blur as a sharp ringing filled his ears, drowning out their voices and the chaos surrounding them. In that moment, he felt detached, as if time itself had come to a standstill.