Loveless: Day 13

Word Count: 78,004

Summary of Events:

Thérèse and Le Démon shared a delicious Christmas dinner together. Le Démon, recalling that Christmastime was when gifts were given, gave Thérèse a necklace; the gesture profoundly touched Thérèse. Henri found Évrard at the New Year's party and told him about his plan to at least see Thérèse one more time, if not rescue her. Thérèse though about how Le Démon had a distinct humanity, and wondered why he would. Le Démon resumed disconsolation at their return to routine . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"Unfortunately, things seemed to have settled back into their usual routine. She read all day and, for the most part, he either laid in front of the fire or tried desperately to remember his name.

She did seem to spend even more time with or near him, she'd even fetched a basket from the kitchen and brought all of his bones to the bureau so that he could gnaw on them whenever the mood struck him, instead of having to leave for the dining room.

But still, it seemed like things had regressed, and he was honestly more than a little disappointed. He wanted to be freed from this nightmare, and although she didn't know it, time was ticking down faster and faster all the time — at least as far as he was concerned.

If she didn't do something soon then it would all be over. All the hope he might've had would be destroyed, and even though it'd been refortified at Christmas, it was starting to crumble again.

She lay against him, reading, at the moment, completely absorbed in whatever it was, he hadn't seen the title.

He reached around and nosed at her face. Absently she reached over and started rubbing and stroking him behind the ears. He pulled his head away. That wasn't what he wanted.

Still she rubbed, now more toward his shoulders, completely oblivious to what he wanted so dearly. What he needed so desperately. He dropped his head to his forelegs and sighed.

Lazily his eyes scanned the gold-leafed titles written on the spines of the books that lined the shelves that filled the room. He knew them all nearly by heart, having looked at them for hours, days, weeks, months, and years.

He seemed so close to freedom, and yet, at the same time, so terribly far away. He could almost taste the freedom that could so soon be his. But just as easily could never, ever come to him.

It tormented him to think that he was so close to gaining the freedom he dearly hungered for, and yet also so close to having it be impossible to achieve. If he were to, after all this, not be able to get his freedom, he was sure that he would keel over and die. He was so close, and he wanted it so badly.

But he couldn't force her. He'd tried, and it hadn't worked. It'd worked more for him to be nice to her. She seemed to get closer the nicer he behaved. But he wasn't sure what to do now. He'd given her something, but now she'd regressed.

If only she would do something. Even if she did it in passing, surely it would count and bring him freedom. Maybe, hopefully, it would even count when she thought it. It had to!

Turning, he nosed her again. She stopped stroking him. He sighed and dropped his head back onto his forelegs. She wasn't getting it. She didn't understand what he needed her to do."