<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">
<div class="bbImageWrapper lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FGgS9PUV.jpg&amp;hash=d0468316a9becabeaeb97564ca8e6a5a" title="GgS9PUV.jpg">
<img alt="GgS9PUV.jpg" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FGgS9PUV.jpg&amp;hash=d0468316a9becabeaeb97564ca8e6a5a" data-url="https://i.imgur.com/GgS9PUV.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" style="" title="" width=""/>
<noscript><img alt="GgS9PUV.jpg" class="bbImage" data-url="https://i.imgur.com/GgS9PUV.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FGgS9PUV.jpg&amp;hash=d0468316a9becabeaeb97564ca8e6a5a" style="" title="" width=""/></noscript>
</div>
</span>​</div><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">The warm glow of a setting sun beat against her window. Sheer white drapes billowed in the breeze that moved through the room, gently fluttering in the calmness of the early evening. Ava could still hear the birds chirping outside her window, growing evermore faint as time went by, slowly to be replaced by the symphonic melody of crickets. Her light and airy quarters were peaceful, the atmosphere perfect for her to finish her newest project; <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2Fe4lz1jd.jpg&amp;hash=1c54a7b81abbba01d5957c9403626d21" href="https://i.imgur.com/e4lz1jd.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">canvas</a> perched on the easel was dark, in stark contrast to her surroundings, her steady hand placed precise brush strokes. Her fluid motions were thoughtful as she perfected shadows, shading to add depth and detail to the near finished work. While she would have liked to say that it was an original piece, that it was inspired by her own imagination and creativity, it was merely just one of many disturbing images from her tormenting visions. She found it more therapeutic than enjoyable to bring the monsters out of the dark and into the light, to render and refine them so that they were no longer a source of fear or mystery. It was a means of dissecting some of the more symbolic images, a way to understand them better or reference later. As much as she would have liked to forget the things she saw, and as loathe as she was to admit it, they were useful at times. <br/>
<br/>
She sat with her legs up, crossed legged in the wooden chair with a pallet of mixed and streaked colors balancing in her lap. Her hair was up, twisted into a bun a top of her head though stray strands refused to stay put, framing her face. The tickle of her hair brought her hands to her cheeks now and then, marking them with black smudges as she did. Her hands were a similar story, smears of paint on her fingertips and palms. When her phone vibrated against the small pedestal table beside her, she had to resist the instinct to reach for it. Ava set her brush down and reached for the cloth that hung over her shoulder, quickly wiping the pads of her fingers off. Only then did she grab the device, a smile appearing on her lips as the sight of his name. She unlocked the phone, clicking on the picture of the sunset in the bayou. It was beautiful, like the sky was on fire. Her eyes glanced down at the message, a little laughter bubbling in her chest as her paint-stained fingers replied. "So corny." She whispered to herself, deeply flattered all the same since she was smiling from ear to ear and her cheeks were flushed.<br/>
</span><br/><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><b>Very sweet. Wish I could be there to enjoy it with you.</b></span>​</div><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><br/>
A knock on the door made her put the phone down slowly. “Come in.” She called, looking over her shoulder to see her <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fimgur.com%2FZeeRXHv&amp;hash=71f8fb7b53365e05e453df677188b3bf" href="https://imgur.com/ZeeRXHv" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">mother</a> carefully pushing her way inside. Poised and put-together, she stood in the threshold to peer into the room, a warm smile stretching across her lips. <b>”May I come in? I’m not interrupting, am I?”</b> The considerate Southern Bell asked. The soft but deeply saturated accent broadened the smile on her own lips. “Not at all. Come in. I was just finishing up. I was going to come and find you, actually. I was thinking about putting this one up for sale.” Ava explained, returning her green eyes to the painting, the perfectionist in her quick to identify areas that could use a little more attention. <b>” Must be an old one then.”</b> Her mother noted as she approached, the click of her heels growing louder as she grew closer. Claire Bergeron was a woman of sophistication, the grace she carried herself with interwoven into the fibers of her being. Never was a hair out of place, polished blonde locks somehow immune to the Louisiana humidity. “It is. One of the Succubus victims a while back.”<br/>
<br/>
<b> “Ah, I remember . . . It feels wrong to say that it’s beautiful, but it is. And, at the same time it makes me miss the days when you painted landscapes and portraits.”</b> Her mother examined the painting from over her shoulder, arms folded across her chest as she appraised it like a seasoned art curator. “I still do, but they don’t sell as well. People tend to find the darker artwork more compelling.” Ava smirked, letting her legs unfold so that her feet touched the ground, her hands moving to the towel on her shoulder to remove more of the paint that colored her fingers. <b> “I don’t disagree, my love. They are moving . . . I just hate that you have to see them the way you do. How have you been sleeping?”</b> Her hand moved to her cheek, a fond but sympathetic glimmer in her blue eyes as she did her best to wipe some of the dark smudges away on her face. Ava took a moment to respond, a brief pause to answer as honestly as she could. Truthfully, she hadn’t been sleeping much. Her nights were spent glued to her phone, the lights dim in her room while exchanging messages with Wes. Their silly conversations kept her entertained and engaged, and the playful flirtation that inevitably turned to tender confessions made her long for the day they would see each other again. Distance had not diminished her desire either, the flame of lust that ignited the night they kissed in the bar still blazed, as out of control as a wildfire. <br/>
<br/>
“Fine. I’ve been sleeping fine. Not getting much sleep but it’s better than nothing.” For a moment Ava thought about telling her about her visions of Scarlett, the terrible images of her former self rabid and chained like an animal. But, she thought better of it. She didn’t want to be disappointed by more excuses and inaction. <b> “You’re all red, darling. It’s hotter than the Dickens in here. You make sure to close all these windows in here before you turn in. If your dad sees these open we’ll never hear the end of it when the bill comes.”</b> Her mother moved to turn crack the window across the room open a bit more. Ava fanned herself, trying to cool down from the heated thoughts of the Hunter she had not long before. “I know,” she chuckled, watching as her mother sat down in her bed, a sigh escaping her after her own laughter died down. Her expression became distant, thoughts somewhere else as she stared out of one of those windows. <b> “She’ll be back.”</b> She said, more to herself it seemed than to her. <br/>
<br/>
“Aren’t you worried?” Ava asked, letting her elbow rest on the back of the chair. <br/>
<br/>
<b> “Of course. I wake up everyday hoping she’ll be sleeping in her room, or that she’ll come down the stairs to show up for breakfast. But . . .”</b> She paused, taking a moment to pick her words carefully. As warm as her mother could be, she was difficult to read. Her refinement made her a vault with all her thoughts and emotions safe inside. <b> “We just have to wait a little longer I suppose.”</b> Pushing herself up, her mother hesitantly laid a hand on Ava’s shoulder, placing a kiss against her temple. <b> “Don’t stay up all night fussing over that. Wash up and try to get some rest tonight, darling.”</b><br/>
<br/>
“Good night . . .” Ava waited till she was out of the room to dissect her words, trying to interpret another meaning behind them. Another vibration alerted her to another message. She picked up the phone as she rose to her feet, responding while she stretched her legs; pacing around the perimeter of her room. <br/>
</span><br/><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><b> It’s been quiet. I’m just doing a little painting before bed. And other than talking to you all night I don’t have much else planned. I was thinking you and I can start working on some of these leads soon? A few more days from now? Honestly I think it’s all I can stand . . . I want to say that I’m purely concerned about these leads going bad, but I do miss you.</b></span>​</div><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><br/>
It was becoming easier and easier to tell him that, the barrier of their distance making her more honest than she would have been otherwise. </span>