Hallelujah

[Dominique]

A return home was not what she had had in mind, but it was home nonetheless, and there she was: seated on an abandoned swing in New Orleans in a park that closed at dusk. Dominique was not in the mood to swing, instead pressing her forehead to the swing's chain as it groaned in protest of her subtle movement. A swift October wind picked up, brushing through her copper curls and carrying them across her face, effectively making a sweet scented curtain. She sighed, annoyed at the sensation of hair in her face, but otherwise made no move to get it out of the way.

She wasn't entirely sure what her problem was on this night, but she didn't feel like doing much of anything but sitting on that ancient swing and staring down at the sheen of the red satin flats that peaked out from under her jeans. Oh yes. She had taken to wearing jeans again. Not the classiest outfit, but there it was. She sighed again and kicked irritatedly at the dirt, then clamped her teeth down hard tongue. There was something wrong.

Aside from the burning hunger pains in her stomach, aside from the ache in all of her bones, she felt like something was missing. That chance encounter with Lestat had left her feeling empty. It wasn't much of a surprise, he had always had that effect on her: he came, he filled her up with new hopes and fears, and then he was gone, taking it all with him when he went. How she hated him for it! And yet, how she loved him. If she could get her hands on him, she'd strangle him until all the anger washed away, and then she'd... she'd. She'd just let him walk all over her because she was pathetic. Dominique scowled down at the toes of her shoes, wishing she wasn't so foolish.