Quick note: I recommend reading a few previous chapters, even I had to so I could remember what this was all about lmao.

Short one to get me back into it... more to come!

The gothically black decor threw her off when she awoke this time around.

There was no trauma or panic from the unfamiliar surroundings.

In fact, she'd mistook the room for her near all black apartment in England.

It was almost identical.

And that was the intention when none other than Jasper Keller himself took to ordering their new maids and servants to create a safe space for the girl after finally learning of her intolerance of white rooms.

It only took thirty two freshly dug graves in his family's private plot to simmer his self pity with a fresh load of guilt.

And for Jasper Keller being selfless, especially in a time where sympathetic gestures were being thrown at him from all angles, was unheard of.

Being the only person to have ever stepped into Tempest's place had come in useful for something.

That way, he was able to tell the decorators that the chandeliers of their choice were a little too gothic for Tempest's taste.

And that she had not a single hard floor in her own flat, only carpets.

Little did he realise how much she'd appreciate him noticing that small detail since her negative feelings about hard floors and white rooms are almost equal.

But when Tempest finally clocked that the room was a little too big and glamorous to be her apartment, she shot up from the black satin sheets she lay on.

In the corner of the room sat a tall, slumped figure and before she so much as flinched to reach for a weapon, they were moving in a blur.

"I'm too fast for you now, T."

Jasper's voice is right by her ear now, almost actually shocking the hybrid for the first time in her existence.

"You're welcome."

She replies, rubbing straight over the fresh, metaphorical wound that is the part she played in his transitioning.

"Nice apology you cold bitch. I waited two weeks for that?"

Although it seems harsh his tone of voice is sarcastic and quite careless, contradicting his words.

As predicted, Tempest doesn't waste her breath responding and instead turns her attention to searching for her furry sidekick.

Crew, ever the traitorous cat he was, lay curled up on a new cat podium, looking like royalty and acting the part too.

Don't get too comfortable, Tempest thought to herself.

The moment she had a minute alone she'd be back in England faster then Jasper can vamp.

Or atleast that was her plan.

She wasn't the only person plotting.

"Don't worry, we'll be spending lots of time together so you don't have to rush your grand apology."

He tries to further taunt a response from her.

All he earns himself is hardened eye contact from the intimidatingly ethereal looking girl.

"Blue eye contacts are in the second draw down in your en-suite. Go take a fucking shower before we leave. You need one."

And again, as she reaches for a lamp to toss off his smug, freckled face, the door is already being slammed shut in his wake.

I've created a monster.