Sick Child - MarkoxOC

Part 44: like knives

It's muggy. The smell of cotton candy and stale carnival hamburgers clings to the air. Dwayne can smell the sweat clinging to the bodies of tourists as they stroll down the boardwalk, oblivious to the monsters who stalk them. Paul and Dwayne lean against their bikes passing a joint back and forth. The security guard near the carousel is giving them the stink-eye, but he won't make a move unless they approach the ride. Dwayne's head spins and he feels himself getting lost in a tornado of his own anxiety. He can make things work with Kara, but there's a massive caveat. Eventually, he'll have to turn her. Charlie, too. The pack won't stay in Santa Carla forever. The city will wear out its welcome, as all cities do. Too many dead, too many missing. People get suspicious. They've never camped out in one city for too long. A few decades may seem like a long time to a human, but for them, it's the blink of an eye. For a long time, it was just David, Max, and Dwayne, prowling the depths of Moscow until the second revolution. They moved throughout Europe and the rest of the world like ghosts, picking up Paul in France, and Marko years later as a runaway in Oakland.

It's in their nature to vanish.

"What's goin' on, D?" Paul asks, blowing smoke rings.

"Huh?"

"You're distracted. You missed three potential meals because you're up here."

He knocks on Dwayne's skull. Normally, the dark-haired vampire would smack his brother or shove him away. Instead, he sighs and drums thoughtfully on the boardwalk fence.

"I'm in love," he whispers.

"Christ on a bike," Paul groans. "You're kidding."

"Is that bad?" Dwayne laughs.

"Yes, it's bad!" Paul exclaims. "Three girls walk into this group and all of a sudden my brothers turn into a bunch of quivering pussies. Now, Marko and David, I expected this shit out of, but you? You were the last man standing."

Dwayne finally gives Paul a well-earned shove.

"Hey, fuck you!"

Paul holds his hands up in surrender and laughs.

"I'm joking, I'm joking!"

"Right."

Paul knows to tread lightly around this topic. This is the first time Dwayne has felt anything like this in years. Dwayne can tell that his brother is attempting to broach the subject casually; with subtlety, but Paul is about as subtle as a fire alarm. It's simply not a talent he possesses, yet he tries to master it every chance he gets, much to the rest of the group's amusement.

"So it's that Kara chick, huh?" He asks, drumming what Dwayne guesses is a Motley Crüe song on the railing while keeping an eye out for their dinner.

"Yeah."

"I should've known from the first night you laid eyes on her," Paul sighs.

"What do you mean?"

"You've got a thing for little blondes, dude. That's why I told Marko to watch out when he first joined up."

Dwayne rolls his eyes.

"We messed around a couple of times. We all have."

"You and I haven't."

"True, but you and David, and then you and Marko. Me and David..."

"Good point," Paul mumbles. "What are you gonna do? About Kara, I mean."

"I got that much, Paul," Dwayne laughs. "don't know... If I bring up turning her..."

"Sofie'll take your fucking head off. Max'll have to line up behind her to dismember the rest of you."