Eric Northman's secret diary day 240

...continued from day 238 and day 239 below.

Day 240: Valentine’s Day

Having V in our little club has actually been quite nice. The BDBs are a lot more tolerable when you isolate them. In fact, after sundown, V helped me carry the chair I made for CJ to the grassy area outside her sitting room to surprise her, and we angled it so that it would make the maximum impression on my beauty.

And then ‘ol whiskachops arrives. Grrreat. He takes a look at the chair and says, Good God! What IS that thing, you PSYCHOS?

And I said, It’s a chair, a gift to show Carolyn Jean what she means to me.

And whiskachops replies, If you were a proper hero, a mere touch of a hand, or a stare out a window would say everything to her, and you wouldn’t need such sick gifts.

And then V speaks up: he says, You want me to tighten that cravat for you, my man?

And whiskachops says, You want me to tighten your cravat?

And V said, I’m not wearing one. It’s 2009, dude, BUY A CLUE.

And whiskachops said, I fear the price would be much too dear.

V gave him a somewhat hazy look, then he simply scowled and said, How bout if you get off my dick?

And then whiskachops says, I’m sorry, even with the technological advancements of the age, we’ve been unable to locate it.

V went after him, but wouldn’t you know, Joscelin Verreuil appeared to protect whiskachops, and V backed off. I couldn’t blame him. Nobody wants to attack that nut Verreuil until we figure out what the hell vambraces are and what they might do to a vampire.

V sauntered off and I waited for some time, then went in to Carolyn Jean’s rooms. She wasn’t being fanned by Morelli and Ranger as is her usual mid-evening routine, but was simply sitting alone in the dark in one of her despondent moods.

What’s wrong, my flower? I asked, brushing a lock of raven hair from her goddess-like face.

Oh, Eric, I’m getting old. I’m already getting gray hair and wrinkles, she sniffled. What's the point of it all? Plus, I’m afraid by the time my novel comes out, nobody will be reading paranormals or UF anymore. And I work so hard all the time, but sometimes I wonder, is this what life is for? I have wrinkles! What’s the point of it all?

I inhaled sharply. This is usually the sort of question she reserves for Archangel Michael, who is also part of our household. I was overjoyed that she asked me, but my joy quickly turned to angst, as I could not think of an answer. I tried to imagine what gobbledygook Michael would say, but I couldn’t!

A lone tear rolled down her perfect cheek. I have never felt at such a loss!

I simply extended my hand to her. Come.

She stood and I covered her moist eyes with my hands and marched her to the chair I’d fashioned. Happy Valentine’s day, my love, I whispered, and then I removed my hands.

Oh, Eric, she gasped. It’s beautiful! You made this? I nodded proudly. It’s the most wonderful chair in the world!

I wish I had an answer to your question my lady, I said.

An answer! She snorted. Screw it. I don't give a crap anyways. Then she bade me to get her the rat skull necklace I made her for Christmas. I returned with it and she put it over her head and sat prettily in her chair. How do I look?

Totally badass, my lady, I said.

She smiled. Good. She yelled for Kirk to light some torches around her and go fetch Ciara and Ethan. And then she patted the space next to her. Come sit with me, Eric. And so began another enchanted evening.