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minteaaax · 2 months ago

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A Little Death - REUPLOAD/UPDATE!

I’m reloading the series I started & instead meshing the chapters together to make them longer:) my page felt too cluttered with a bunch of short chapters everywhere.

This is my own little AU where the crow doesn’t get mukduked, and Eric lives on immortally, taking on the world with some new friends.

I’ll add any warnings as the series goes on, here’s the first one

WARNING: this series starts on a cringe note because I wrote the first chapter AGES ago. Have fun!

A leather clad pair of legs rested themselves on the coffee table, Eric flicking open his zippo, “Last one, I promise,” he said with a smirk as he popped the cheap cigarette between his lips. Matt rolled his eyes, sitting down on the sofa, adjacent to the easy chair Eric rested on. “You’ll be the one closing all these windows then. They’re letting too much rain in,” he commented, propping his own feet up next to his friend’s. Eric shrugged, “Deal.” The two sat in front of the TV, static flashing every now and then as the storm interrupted its signal. Meanwhile in the open garage, Chris and Dani were busy loading a dresser into the bed of Chris’ truck. Constantly picking up and setting down what felt like 400 pounds, in an effort to figure out a comfortable grip to lift the piece of furniture with, Dani’s braid caught on the handle, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, ow, stop!” They both quickly dropped the dresser back on the floor, the wood clanking loudly as Chris cursed, “Stupid piece of shit, might as well leave it here.” Upon hearing the commotion, the two boys in the living room ventured out to check on the not-so-dynamic duo. Dani sighed, hands on her hips, “You two having fun in there? You know, for a vigilante, you sure seem to enjoy sitting on your ass,” she scolds. “Off-duty,” Eric corrected under his breath, despite his face still being fully painted. His attention veered down the street, “You might have company.” Chris looked over his shoulder, “Oh yeah, that’s Annie. You two haven’t met yet?” Eric shaked his head.

”She keeps to herself, makes sense you haven’t seen her around before. Love that bitch.” Dani says, pulling the drawers out of the dressers to lighten it up a bit. Chris continues while Matt heads back inside, leaving Eric to watch as the stranger walked up the wet driveway with bare feet. He took another puff, trying not to be too obvious as he eyed her. “I give up!” Chris exclaimed, snapping the man out of his little daze, “Annie, is there any chance you're secretly buff?” With damp hair and her shirt sticking to her chest, Annie shrugged at Chris’ question, making brief eye contact with Eric, “If this guy is too scared to help, I’m not sure I would want to take my chances either.” Eric fought the shiver that ran down his spine at the found of her voice, chuckling as to not seem like such a deer in headlights at the way her eyes locked on him when she spoke. Chris passed Annie a towel, “What are you doing barefoot in the rain? You look like a stray cat.” She wrapped the cloth around her shoulders with an exasperated sigh, “Guess who dropped her house key down the storm drain while getting the mail.” Dani cringed while Chris let out a laugh, “Real graceful,” he teased. Annie rolled her eyes, “Whatever, but yeah, I managed to lock myself out. My back door is unlocked, but jammed.” Eric chimed in, “I can help you out, if you’d like. Bypassing deadbolts is a speciality of mine.”

Annie crossed her arms, “If you’re up to the task,” her eyes momentarily rake up and down his much taller form, unsure, “but don’t feel too bad if you get stumped.” The room fell silent as Eric proceeded to blow his smoke into Annies face with a smirk, forcing her to turn her head away from him; he brushed past her, narrowly missing her shoulder as he walked out of the garage, into the pouring rain without another word. The pair standing off to the side snickered and Annie glared at them, “Let me know when you guys finish moving that dresser,” she remarked, watching their grins falter and eyes roll.

“You live in this one?”

“How did you guess?”

“It’s the only one with an ungodly amount of windchimes.”

Annie rolled her eyes, arms still crossed tightly over her chest while the man in front of her walked leisurely up the driveway, unfazed by the downpour soaking his hair and clothes. He was very well built, she couldn’t help but start ogling at the way his muscles would ripple under his gray, long sleeved shirt. Walking with confidence, his steps were nearly silent on the gravel as he unlatched the gate into her side yard with an unsettling amount of ease, like he had practiced this a million times before; well of course he had, Annie thought to herself, reminding herself of his occupation.

“They’re soothing,” she spoke up suddenly as Eric located a window that lead into her dining room. Confused but curious as to whatever she was referencing he looked back at her with his eyebrows furrowed raised. “They’re soothing, the wind chimes,” Annie reminded him, “it’s too silent out here without them.” He held his expression, but nodded, seeming to at least understand where she was coming from. He turned back to the window, “Do you have any alarm system on this place? This window is only held shut by caulking.” Annie shook her head, giving him a quiet, “no,” which earned a hum from Eric who pressed his palm up against the bottom edge of the window, another hand stabilizing himself against the wall. With a sturdy push, he forced the window up. Eric tisked “You should get one, anyone could come in,” he warned, shaking his head. Annie’s eyes rolled for possibly the millionth time since the two of them met.

“Okay dad…” She mumbled sarcastically. Eric smirked to himself as he stepped aside, “Need a boost?” His face paint was running as he looked down at her, the rain picking up. Shrugging, Annie nodded and Eric knelt down, cupping his hands for the woman to step on. He pushed her up towards the window, respectfully keeping his eyes glued towards the ground instead of the way her flowy pajama pants fit perfectly with the contour of her bottom. His mind wasn’t far from wandering when Annie spoke up from inside the house, “Come around the front.” Without another word, Eric walked away, towards the porch as she shut the window. Half debating disappearing on her, he listened to the locks turning from inside.

Annie smiled, opening the door and stepping aside for… nobody. She stood there in confusion, a little hurt that he would just leave. She didn’t think she’d done anything that would offend him, so what was his deal? Poking her head out and looking around, there was no sign of him, only the sound of the wind chimes blowing with the storm as the sky darkened. She shut the door with a deep sigh, “Men.”

“I am no man,” a voice from down the hallway nearly made her jump out of her skin. She quickly made her way over to the kitchen, seeing Eric leaning casually against the counter, expressionless. “How did you do that?” She questioned him with her armed crossed. His lips slowly curved up into a smile, “I said you would benefit from better security,” his words earned an even more dumbfounded look from Annie. She stammered for a moment, watching his eyebrows raise with amusement as she did so before ultimately giving up. “Whatever, come here,” she commanded, walking to the sink and grabbing a washcloth. Eric obeyed without a word, stepping closer in the dark kitchen. He stared intently at her face, meanwhile Annie was holding the cloth under some warm water, unaware of his gaze penetrating her skull until she finally looked back up at him and lifted it to his face, slowly wiping his cheek with her right hand, her left hand cupping the other side of his face to keep him steady. His expression was stern, trying to read her eyes with his own and decipher the feeling of her fingerprints on his cheek, as if they were a line of braille. For someone so openly herself, she was impossible to see through when she wasn’t choosing to be expressive. Her hands were soft like… what was it? He couldn’t put his finger on it. A sensation he hadn’t experienced since a time long ago, longer than he could remember.

She wiped under his eyes, the black paint relenting against the warm water. Eric closed his eyes as she did so, allowing her to also clean his eyelids before she ran the cloth between his eyebrows, up to the rough skin of his forehead. Opening his eyes once more, they wandered down to her lips; they were full and looked so soft. She took the bottom one into her mouth, chewing on the skin. Bit by bit, Annie cleansed Eric’s skin of the muddied, black, white, and partially gray makeup. Her heart raced as each second passed. She finished up by wiping along his jawline, making the hair stand up all over his body as she took care of the streaks that had run down his neck as well. Her hand shook, worried about crossing any boundaries, but he didn’t stop her from grazing his collarbone too, collecting a little dirt smudge that she conveniently noticed just then.

She handed him a mug, sitting across from him at the small, round table. Eric’s face was bare and his hair was starting to dry off; a towel was wrapped around his shoulders, a lot like Annie was earlier. He pulled a small box out of his pocket, “Got a light? Since you’re holding me hostage.” His new friend nodded, opening a drawer a couple of feet away and grabbing an old zippo for him. “It isn’t a good idea to walk home in this weather, i know you’re all tough and shit, but i wouldn’t be a good host if i just tossed you out there. Besides, Chris will be over in a few with his truck to take you home to wherever you live.”

”I live in the city.”

”I see, not used to us rural folk?”

”Not used to being kidnapped.” Eric crossed his legs, sitting back and lighting his cigarette

”I don’t think it counts if you’re older. At least I think you are.”

”Alright, smarty-pants, how old are you anyway?”

”Twenty-Two. You?”

”Twenty-nine.”

”Fine, elder napping.”

Eric let out a quick laugh, along with the smoke he held in his lungs. The room was dark enough for them to barely see each other since the sun had gone down completely at this point, all that could be seen were his fingers illuminated very slightly by the light off his cigarette. Silence washed over them for a few seconds, but it was quickly interrupted by a knock at the door.

Annie’s POV:

I flinched hard at the sudden rapping and pressed my hand against my chest, my heart beating rapidly. Eric only stared down the hall at the front door, hopefully not noticing my reaction. I sighed, getting up.

I opened the door to see Chris with a very small, but incredibly smug smile on his face. You know, that sort of look someone gives you when they catch you in the middle of doing something you both know you shouldn’t? “Are you two still going at it, or can I collect the precious cargo now?” I rolled my eyes, “Don’t be a freak. He’s over there,” looking over my shoulder and down the hallway, I found that Eric had completely vanished, the table left empty with it’s chairs pushed in like nobody had ever been there in the first place, “…or at least he was. Does he do that to you guys too?” I looked back over at Chris who only shrugged, “Yeah, you’ll get used to it. What’s with the washcloth?” Instead of giving him any answer that would motivate his embarrassing comments, I set the cloth down with a casual, “Spring cleaning,” but it was obvious my words didn’t convince him with the way his eyes narrowed at me, that same look returning to his face from earlier. “Shut up,” I mutter.

The next few days remained just as uneventful as usual; work, sleep, work sleep, work, sleep, work… I couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t storming anymore, there was no breeze, and no other sound was filtering through the wind chimes as I sat against my headboard in the dark, aside from one. I couldn’t tell if it was in my head, but I was scared, as much as I hated admitting to any sort of weakness, my heartbeat was in my ears when my lack of self preservation led me out of my room. Making my way to the kitchen, the tile flooring was unforgivingly cold, but I felt something nagging at me to investigate the rhythmic tapping that I could finally make out as something real against the window, behind the sink. The little curtains were closed; I grabbed a long knife from the sink, using the tip to slightly push the fabric to the side and get a peek at what could’ve been going on outside. My grip on the handle was tight enough to turn my knuckles white, the sweat on my palm making it slick enough to probably shoot out of my hand if I were to have held it any tighter. My eyes adjusting to the darkness outside, I could finally make out the white face behind the glass, the sight catching me off guard enough to make me yell out, “Jesus, fuck!” I jumped back, dropping my knife.

”Bravo!” I heard a muffled voice shout; it was one that I could only make out as Eric’s. All I could do was sigh and pull back the curtain to see his stupid, handsome face. All amused. I let it fall closed again, “I’m not letting you in, asshole,” I yelled, walking away and out of the kitchen entirely. The last thing I felt like dealing with after a full days work was getting trolled in the middle of the night. The couch absorbed my weight like a sponge when I flopped onto it like a seal. I reached for the TV remote, but another hand reached from behind me and beat me to it, clicking it on. “I don’t need you to, ‘let me in,” your storm cellar was unlocked.” Eric spoke up, walking around the back of the couch and over to a window next to the TV, “If only I had known this was unlocked. Would’ve saved me some trouble.” With his back still facing me, I sneered at him, “I was wondering where the mildew smell came from,” I stood up just as he turned back around, planting my hands on my hips with a less than pleased expression. He took a few slow steps towards me, but I wasn’t going to let him think I was intimidating, “You scared me.” He smiled at my words, leaning in with a, “Boo!” This made figurative steam shoot out of my ears.

“What do you want anyway?”

His response was accompanied by a more sincere and concerned look as he pulled back, arms crossed, “I haven’t seen you out in the last few days.” For only a second, I could feel my face heat up. Was he worried? “Oh. Well, I spend most of my time at work during the day, so I’m not really around.” I sat back down, looking up at Eric, “You gonna sit too, or what?” He narrowed his eyes at me very slightly, seeing to contemplate something, “I’m not sure… Can I smoke in here?” I shrugged, “Only if you share.”

The TV only served as background noise while we talked for what could’ve been hours, passing his last cigarette back and forth. I poured us a couple glasses of wine, feeling myself warm up to him. Mostly because of the wine. Eric was friendly but also a very philosophical person, seeming to zone out and monologue every now and then. Lost in his words as he went on about the fleeting nature of mortality, I didn’t even notice as he put his cigarette out on his wrist. He looked over at me, his eyebrows raised expectantly, “Nothing?” He said, pulling me out of my daze that involved me just staring at his cheek with an empty head. “Nothing what?” I asked, earning a full laugh from Eric who could only lean back me shake his head. I smiled, sitting up, “What, what was it?” I gave up on getting him to explain, instead leaning back next to him again, a stereotypical warm and fuzzy feeling washing over my skin, as I giggled softly along side him.

I kicked my legs up, resting them on his lap in a casual way, and his laughter cut off. He looked down at my calves laying across his thighs before standing up abruptly, “Sorry, I, uh, I have to go.” He said, practically speed-walking to the window. Rattled with confusion, I watched him open it, “Is everything okay?” He looked over his shoulder for a split second, already starting to climb through as he spoke, “Yeah, it’s just- it’s nothing, I have to run.” My jaw was on the floor when he leaped out of the house; all I could do was stand there, dejected and humiliated.

#eric draven #eric draven fanfiction #the crow #the crow 1994 #brandon lee #the crow fanfiction

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