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Description
The Dark Ones I

The air was still and cold. It waited, stiff with anticipation. An invisible response floated down, following the breath of its destiny. The ground below was silent; not a thing stirred in acknowledgement. So they smiled down upon the world; it was finished.

Malaya stirred briefly in her sleep; her eyelids slightly twitching as if someone were stroking at them. She shrugged back into her scarlet covers, curling tightly. Looks of confused concentration flitted across her features; her dreams were often troubling. Her strength denied them access to control, and as she woke her face settled to trained indifference. No one would see a thing as she dripped brandy into her coffee and stepped out of her apartment complex into the car that brought her to her daily existence.
Sitting carefully in the back chair she waited, doodling with idle hope. Her eyes scanned from the empty aisles to the vacant desks but always returned to the ticking clock. It was six am, the perfect time to be in the library. Mackenzie, her employer, would be upstairs filing bills in the office. This gave Malaya twenty minutes to be consumed by the sweet smell of old books before she opened the doors to the people who never understood. Closing her notebook, she slipped in carefully back behind the gothic era historic novels she cherished.
Sleek brown strands of hair escaped from her ponytail, tickling her eyelashes. She brushed them away with her hand distractedly and when she looked up at the door, found herself face to face with a pair of stormy gray eyes. Her body twitched in a short spasm before sliding the key into the lock and letting the first visitor into the building.
“Morning…” Malaya mumbled in an attempt at politeness before darting to the panel and hitting the rest of the floor lights. At that moment Mackenzie strolled down the steps and greeted the rugged figure in deep astonishment. “Aidan? Is that really you?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, so, the great historian really had contented herself to be a humble librarian. “Indeed, Mackenzie Flande, it is I. I heard tell of you being here, it was surprising to hear that someone such as yourself worked in such an establishment.”
“People and their perceptions on those who work with books…” Malaya mumbled to herself. She’d been overlooked by the stranger, but his atmosphere had intrigued her and she’d stayed in the corner by the entrance. He’d heard her though, and turned those piercing eyes to her. “What was that Ms….” His voice trailed off while his eyebrows rose to meet disheveled chestnut bangs. His arrogant expectance for an answer was astounding. Mackenzie only laughed slightly at this, she’d always had a feeling Malaya’s stubbornness would meet its match in Aidan’s subtle mysterious, but quite pompous atmosphere. She hadn’t known they’d meet, but it did not surprise her how they began to interact.
“If I wanted you to know I’d have introduced myself,” Malaya snapped back. She wasn’t short by any means, but Aidan’s lean frame towered at least two inches above her still. Glaring her violet eyed stare upwards defiantly she continued, “I know your type, such the arrogant scholar. Just because one works at a library doesn’t define them as voiceless, geeky mice; it just so happens we do something with our love of literature. Don’t come waltzing into this place acting like all those under its roof are worthless; it’s not my fault you’re a stuck up prat.” Taking a deep breath, she stalked off. This morning was awful; first she was haunted by dreams she couldn’t remember and then another of Mackenzie’s high held acquaintances who thought that librarians were the dirt on author’s shoes. In her huff however, she didn’t notice that Aidan was following her.

Description
The Dark Ones I

The air was still and cold. It waited, stiff with anticipation. An invisible response floated down, following the breath of its destiny. The ground below was silent; not a thing stirred in acknowledgement. So they smiled down upon the world; it was finished.

Malaya stirred briefly in her sleep; her eyelids slightly twitching as if someone were stroking at them. She shrugged back into her scarlet covers, curling tightly. Looks of confused concentration flitted across her features; her dreams were often troubling. Her strength denied them access to control, and as she woke her face settled to trained indifference. No one would see a thing as she dripped brandy into her coffee and stepped out of her apartment complex into the car that brought her to her daily existence.
Sitting carefully in the back chair she waited, doodling with idle hope. Her eyes scanned from the empty aisles to the vacant desks but always returned to the ticking clock. It was six am, the perfect time to be in the library. Mackenzie, her employer, would be upstairs filing bills in the office. This gave Malaya twenty minutes to be consumed by the sweet smell of old books before she opened the doors to the people who never understood. Closing her notebook, she slipped in carefully back behind the gothic era historic novels she cherished.
Sleek brown strands of hair escaped from her ponytail, tickling her eyelashes. She brushed them away with her hand distractedly and when she looked up at the door, found herself face to face with a pair of stormy gray eyes. Her body twitched in a short spasm before sliding the key into the lock and letting the first visitor into the building.
“Morning…” Malaya mumbled in an attempt at politeness before darting to the panel and hitting the rest of the floor lights. At that moment Mackenzie strolled down the steps and greeted the rugged figure in deep astonishment. “Aidan? Is that really you?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, so, the great historian really had contented herself to be a humble librarian. “Indeed, Mackenzie Flande, it is I. I heard tell of you being here, it was surprising to hear that someone such as yourself worked in such an establishment.”
“People and their perceptions on those who work with books…” Malaya mumbled to herself. She’d been overlooked by the stranger, but his atmosphere had intrigued her and she’d stayed in the corner by the entrance. He’d heard her though, and turned those piercing eyes to her. “What was that Ms….” His voice trailed off while his eyebrows rose to meet disheveled chestnut bangs. His arrogant expectance for an answer was astounding. Mackenzie only laughed slightly at this, she’d always had a feeling Malaya’s stubbornness would meet its match in Aidan’s subtle mysterious, but quite pompous atmosphere. She hadn’t known they’d meet, but it did not surprise her how they began to interact.
“If I wanted you to know I’d have introduced myself,” Malaya snapped back. She wasn’t short by any means, but Aidan’s lean frame towered at least two inches above her still. Glaring her violet eyed stare upwards defiantly she continued, “I know your type, such the arrogant scholar. Just because one works at a library doesn’t define them as voiceless, geeky mice; it just so happens we do something with our love of literature. Don’t come waltzing into this place acting like all those under its roof are worthless; it’s not my fault you’re a stuck up prat.” Taking a deep breath, she stalked off. This morning was awful; first she was haunted by dreams she couldn’t remember and then another of Mackenzie’s high held acquaintances who thought that librarians were the dirt on author’s shoes. In her huff however, she didn’t notice that Aidan was following her.