can you taste our love's sweet wine ;; hugo

[rebecca alyse nelson]

I TRY TO CAPTURE EVERY MINUTE

[/b][/font]
T H E F E E L I N G[/color] I N I T[/size][/font]



slipping through my fingers all the time *[/b][/center]

A

[/font][/color]lthough vampirism came with a flawless complexion, Rebecca Nelson could always find something the matter the skin and pores on her face. Her trusty compact resting on the palm of her hand, which had not received a manicure in nearly eighty years, she used her spare hand elbow up to point out areas that she deemed "blotchy" on her face, particularly her nose. It didn't matter how often Hugo told her otherwise, Rebecca swore to Allah (she'd taken up Muslim as of late, growing bored with the basic fundamentals of Christianity as of late, but the two were similar enough alike that she was not abandoning her initial principles) that the blotches had resulted out of freckles, that usually were not there. Her skin had not physicaly changed in nearly eighty years as it no longer breathed, but Hugo always called that just being a woman, undead or alive and kicking.

She closed her compact with a snap, the snap so loud that it caused the closest three customers to look up in stupidity at her. Rebecca was no stranger to these kind of looks, however. Not only was she an object that tended to attract them, but as was Mrs. Edward Cullen, who she daresayed felt a little disgusted with on occasion. Bella, was it...? and her husband, Edward, were amicable enough, and both appeared to be very jovial. But there was something in the way they conducted themselves in public, however, that Rebecca did not like one bit. She and Hugo's establishment was a pub, yes, but it most certainly was not a place to go `round snogging your significant other in. Even though she was dead, Rebecca could feel an echo of her stomach regurgitating in disgust, which usually she cut off by turning sharply around and began to fiddle with tumblers. There were times when she had to break up the love fest that was going on in the pub because it bothered her customers. Did they not realize how rude they were being? People came to the pub to enjoy their brew or a bite to eat, not to leave the comfort of their homes and watch a softcore pornography.

A coy smile graced her features, one side of her lips tugging a bit higher than the other. Rebecca slid her compact beneath the bar counter, between the lips of her crocodile skin handbag that almost never saw the light of day, for an irrational fear of it fading. Rebecca liked to preserve her personal belongings, about as much as she liked to preserve herself. She loved the fact that her skin glittered brilliantly, like a million tiny diamonds coating her skin. But it wasn't the fear that she might expose herself that kept her from venturing out into the sunlight on one of those rare days: she'd heard of this skin cancer that increasingly plagued many humans; Hugo would tell her that he doubted vampires could contract skin cancer, but Rebecca was taking no chances. Also, her hair that fell in large, bold ringlets to her shoulders was never dyed, nor had a straightening iron ever touched it. Vampirism had turned her into an extremely self-conscious individual, but there were certain activities that Rebecca participated in without a second thought.

Riverdancing. Knowing she could move her limbs at unrivaled speeds made Rebecca a natural riverdancer. Because she didn't need to breathe, then she could go on forever, never stopped to catch her breath, never stopping because her muscles ached with fatigue. What the strenuous activity did do to her, however, was make her insatiably thirsty. Being only eighty years young, it was still dangerous for Rebecca to become this thirsty and in such a short period of time. Which was why whenever she practiced, she made sure that Hugo was around just in case to caught the scent of a wafting human nearby. For the most part, she was able to forget the satisfying squirt that came from a human when she sank her teeth into their neck, like a virgin's "cherry popping". The way human hemoglobin was so much thicker than an animal's, and the way it tickled and slowly slid down her throat, making her feel like she needed more. Oh yeah, after a couple decades of practice, Rebecca was easily able to forget what the taste of human even tasted like, as though it were a myth. She could usually get her fix off a Bloody Mary, which had almost the same kind of texture, and even came with a comical name, to boot.

Putting all matters aside, Rebecca maneuvered behind the bar with such fluidity that disgraced the human females in the room. Her hair had been pulled back into a low curly pony-tail, held securely by a loose pony-tail holder so that it wouldn't dent a ringlet. Amber eyes settled on the figure of her husband who was working over a replacement keg for the beer on tap, her smile curling even more. She sashayed up to him, pressed her hips into his as she raised herself up ontop of her tip-toes ever so softly. "I'm off to practice, love. I shan't be long," she purred to him, before pressing a hard kiss against the cleft of his chin, her top lip just barely grazing his lower lip to entice him into what would more than likely come much later as the night grew older.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

*

[/b]sometimes i wish that i could freeze the picture[/font][/size]
903 WORDS | MR. NELSON <3 | THE STAGS HEAD PUB | LYRICS from ABBA[/center][/size][/font]

[hugo gustave nelson]

I hope you don't mind that I put down in words - - - How wonderful life is while you're in the world.

H

[/color]ugo was really a simple man. He had what he always wanted in life but of course, had them now in death. The Stags head was previously owned by Hugo's father. Built by his hands and opened on his own terms. Ever since Hugo first step foot in the place he loved and hoped one day it would be passed down to him. Hugo admired his father greatly. He too was a man of not many words but the words he did spoke were surely to have a major impact. The Stags Head was built for comfort. People were going through such a hard time back then that his father sought out of the kindness of his heart to build a place where people could simply go, relax and take a load off their back. The pub did just that and much more, it became one of the best pubs in Dublin and even Ireland as a whole. Many people from a far came to the pub from the word of mouth. ”I am here from the states and to taste the finest beer around” the words that often came out of visitors mouths when they first entered and what the got in return was a comfortable seat, a good pat on the back and of course; the best beverages there is.

Hugo's father passed when he was only the ripe age of sixteen. It effected him tremendously since not too long before his mother and father split and really his father was the only family he had. Not being too young to work, he took ownership of The Stags Head. Little did he know, it would be his first and only job. Hugo was turned into a vampire not long after which he quickly loathed. How could he live forever alone? The only thing he really had was The Stags Head so Hugo made sure to run the business like his dad once had. He made guests feel welcomed, comfortable and most importantly valued. If it wasn't for their oncoming visits Hugo would have been living on the streets and wouldn't of met the love of his life. Rebecca Alyse Nelson the words were like heaven to him. She was his heaven. Hugo fell in love with her the moment he laid eyes on the brunette beauty. She was beyond average and of course most likely out of his league. Somehow he got lucky, the feelings were mutual and before he knew it they were together and for many years to come. They loved each other dearly and had had an understanding of each other.

Hugo was attending to one of the kegs, fiddling with a replacement. The Stags head as usual was flooded with people; vampires and humans in the same room. Out of habit, Hugo would look up from behind the counter top to make sure everything was still running orderly. Everyone knew by now that Hugo and Rebecca and not forgetting Marty did not stand violence within their pub. If a vampire should attack a human under their roof then they would attack the vampire in the same manner. Simple as that. People did not test the owners, though. They stood in place and kept the atmosphere generally cozy. As Hugo occasionally looked up, he not only saw how the customers were holding up but Rebecca. He grinned as he watched her take in her reflection through the tiny compact mirror. Hugo had told her at least a million times that she was beautiful, gorgeous, pretty every compliment in the book. It amused him that his wife still had to look in the mirror and be overly critical with herself.

Hugo shook his head knowing and tended back the the keg, he lifted the keg placing it on the counter after fixing it properly. The sound of Rebecca's mirror snapping close suddenly filled the pub and then footsteps sounded toward him. Hugo was just adjusting the keg in place when he felt a pair of soft lips met his chin ”I'm off to practice love. I shan't be long.” She purred to him. Hugo wiped his hands on a white rag positioned on one of the counter tops placing it back down in time to snag Rebecca by the waist. ”Hold on my love” His tone was husky yet still managing to remain smooth. Both hands were around her waist now as he looked down into her amber eyes. Those eyes he could never get tired looking into. Hugo brought his right hand from her waist and to her face, cradling her cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed across her velvet cheek bones as he admired her beauty for a brief moment.

Hugo knew Rebecca's love for river dancing. He in fact had watched her practice many of times, something he himself loved to watch. She was the best river dancer there was, in his opinion. Quite frankly it was probably true. She was so agile and graceful compared to the rest. She practiced as much as she could though, Hugo didn't think she had anything to really improve upon. Rebecca was perfect not just at river dancing but anything she did. You could leave it up to her to do a mans job and to make it look elegant. That was just her nature, something she possessed both in human life and vampire. Hugo brought his lips to her forehead kissing softly. ”When do you suppose you will be done?” This was a question Hugo often asked. He needed to know when she would be done so he knew when to expect her home. He wasn't over protective, he didn't need to know where she was 24/7. But of course, he still wanted to make sure she would be safe and he knew that if she didn't return around the time she had told him then something was wrong. Which in the end, lead to some heads needing to be chopped off.

Tags: Rebecca!
Word Count: 1002
Lyrics: Your Song - Elton John
[/blockquote]

[rebecca alyse nelson]

I TRY TO CAPTURE EVERY MINUTE

[/b][/font]
T H E F E E L I N G[/color] I N I T[/size][/font]



slipping through my fingers all the time *[/b][/center]

S

[/color]he felt a firm hold upon her waist, just before she was able to swing around for her flight. At the same time a wide smile spread across her lips, exposing the two Shirley Temple dimples on either side of her face, as well as the tiny creases that formed at the corner of her eyes when they pinched together a certain way. Rebecca doubted whether or not she'd ever get tired of the tone that he took with her; it was fatherly, but was velvet smooth in a way that made her kneecaps knock together like she was a schoolgirl again. A giggle slipped through her lips, her forearms curling against her chest palm side so that she could easily press them to the solid chest of her husband, that had always felt like a pillow to her, despite that their skin was hard as granite.

Her hands slipped up his shoulders, drawing herself closer to the man in front of her. Rebecca inclined her chin towards this man, whom nearly ninety years ago she could never imagined herself with. At a time when appearances were nearly everything, Hugo came at an odd time in her life. She was betrothed, to a man much older than she was in exchange for fiscal security for the remainder of her human family's lives. She'd grown spiteful of them for what they were forcing her to do, and her fiance wasn't even half of a fair looking man. He'd been fat, a big, ugly bulbous nose that was as flat as it was young. He had little hair, as most of it had been on his back and belly. She'd never given herself to him, and was quite thankful she had a small ounce of class left after she was sent away to live with the man, because a few months later she'd met the only man who she could ever have considered doing that thing with.

She didn't like to think back on her transformation because the thought was painful to her and made her feel quite guilty. Hugo had changed her, taking her for himself after she'd had a misfortunate fall and otherwise would have bled to death into the babbling brook. Although her Hugo had saved her, she resented him at first. Quite a lot. Becca almost would've preferred the fat, wealthy nobleman over him anyday. Until her days as a newborn glossed over and she saw this man, Hugo Nelson, in an entirely different light. Every glance she made at him and every returned felt like she was struck in the back of the head by a bolt of lightning, his touch equally electrifying. Maybe this was a very pleasant nightmare she'd been having, and Hugo was the devil. And she was a minion. The woman had razor sharp teeth and fed on blood for crying out loud! Whatever it was, she liked it. And she hoped and prayed to God that if this were a nightmare, that she never woke up.

That's what brought her in this spot some eighty years later, only she'd realized that it never was a nightmare that had ailed her; it was the most perfect dream that she could have ever asked for. Rebecca had always considered herself a religious woman and that maybe perhaps Allah had given Hugo to her in order to save her, as she saved him every day of his eternal life? She softened her smile, closed her eyes for a minute, and leaned into Hugo, completely forgetting the animosity for the absurb public displays of affection by Edward and Isabella Cullen, because she was too wrapped up in her husband. "I'll only be in the studio!" she giggled, reopening her eyes to look up at him. Her Hugo had never been an overprotective man, in fact he was perfectly fine with her choosing to go off and do activities by herself; even if she preferred his company to her own solidarity. But he was as normal as a husband as they came, undead or not. Like a human husband, he still worried about her when she was away from him, even though they both knew that she was virtually indestructible and could more than fend for herself. Still, she liked feeling worried over, it only made her love Hugo more because he had the capacity to harbor such strong human emotion such as unnecessary worrying.

"You can expect me back within the hour, love," she answered dutifully, uncurling her forearms from her chest and adjusting her teal leotard that she double as a fashionable shirt, with the right jacket paired with it. "all I'll be doing is running through the hook before the premier at the festival tonight." Rebecca would be performing the opening dance number to kick off the Fire Festival with her troupe, but, none of them paled in comparison to the way she moved with such elegance, making it all look so easy. While her peers were sweating, their chests heaving heavily, and if she wasn't trying to keep up with appearances, Rebecca could strike an elegant pose and not appear the least with tired in the least. However, for the sake of not appearing unnatural, she faked the breathing part by making her dead lungs inflat ever so slightly, so that her shoulders twitched just a bit to signify that she were breathing. The sweat she could do nothing about, but usually told her troupe that it was the brand of make-up that she used that hid the appearance of sweat beads across her brow. She bit down on her lower lip and reached up on her tip-toes, getting her face as close to his as physically possible without touching. "Will this be a historic night, Hugo? Will the pub close early for the first time in nearly a century, my dear? Oh, please say yes. I'd absolutely adore it if you would come and watch...?"[/blockquote][/blockquote]

*

[/b] sometimes i wish that i could freeze the picture[/font][/size]
990 WORDS | MR. NELSON <3 | THE STAGS HEAD PUB | LYRICS from ABBA[/center][/size][/font]

[hugo gustave nelson]

I hope you don't mind that I put down in words - - - How wonderful life is while you're in the world.

H

[/color]ugo listened intently as she spoke. ”You can expect me back within the hour, love.” She paused to uncurl her forearms from her chest. ”All I'll be doing is running through the hook before the premier at the festival tonight.” Hugo's brows raised, surprised by her saying that it was all she would be doing. Rebecca was amazing, she should be the only one opening the festival and then have the other girls come in some point afterward. She deserved it after all. All her hard work and dedication she put into river dancing and then as a result having to dim down her performance by not out shining the rest so much. If she did, there would be no more team. Hugo was sure of that. He crossed his arms as Rebecca stood on her tip toes, getting within inches of his face. Her eyes beamed with excitement and hope. ”Will this be a historic night, Hugo? Will the pub close early for the first time in nearly a century, my dear? Oh please say yes. I'd absolutely adore it if you would come and watch...?” Hugo of course couldn't resist. He knew how much it would mean to her. Hugo shifted his weight onto his other foot, staring back at the beautiful Rebecca and her marvelous eyes. If he said no to that face, he was truly a monster. How could anyone say no? Rebecca was like...Aphrodite in vampire form. Her love poured from every once of her womanly figure and enticed everyone. Hugo surely wasn't the only one that saw how beautiful Rebecca was. In fact, every man in the pub usually drooled at her from their booths. Fortunately enough, Hugo was the lucky guy to win her heart and with that he wasn't going to have her regret it.

”Well...” Hugo looked around The Stags Head, the place she was right about. It hadn't been closed for years for anything. It was open through the most brutal snow storms and even when the rain was too much and a couple of leaks sprouted. People liked that about the place, though. They knew if they were stuck on the roads during a storm that they could always come to The Stags Head for temporary shelter. To hold out until the storms passed whether it be from weather, or by spouses. Hugo began to grin at his last thought but then remembered the topic at hand. ”Oh” Hugo cleared his throat and straightened his posture. Rebecca was still awaiting an answer from him. ”Rebecca you know how it goes. The pub doesn't close for anything.” A small frown formed on his lips. ”The people what would they think?...” Hugo forced a sigh bringing a hand up to place on Rebecca's shoulder. ”What would the people think when they find out that I, Hugo Nelson, closed The Stags Head for his one love Rebecca Nelson.” Hugo's face was now smiling. ”They will be mad, oh for sure but since I know you will be happy then that is all that matters my love.”

Hugo released her arm and stepped back from her. ”I will have to find the closing sign, though. If we even have one. The thing hasn't been out for centuries as you said. Some rats might have taken it away for a home.” Hugo turned on his foot looking back at Rebecca. He stared at her for a few moments before finally looking like a light bulb had just went off above his head. ”Oh yes I almost forgot one thing that I need to get” He walked closer to her, extending his hand as if he was going to grab something behind her on the counter. As he lowered his head, he lifted his chin just in time to plant a kiss on Rebecca's lips. ”Ah, that's better.” Hugo grinned. Bringing his arms up once again, he wrapped them around Rebecca's frame for a hug. ”So when does this festival start?” If Hugo was going to make it then it was best to start closing The Stags Head now. He didn't want to get caught up being here having to tell people personally why the sudden occurrence of a closing.

Tags: Rebecca!
Word Count: 703
Lyrics: Your Song - Elton John
Notes: So sorry it took so long. ><
[/blockquote]

[rebecca alyse nelson]

I TRY TO CAPTURE EVERY MINUTE

[/b][/font]
T H E F E E L I N G[/color] I N I T[/size][/font]



slipping through my fingers all the time *[/b][/center]

R

[/color]ebecca knew that this face usually meant two things. The kind of face that Hugo usually made when he was trying so very hard to agree to her demands, but there was always a snag in the plan. It was the face that Rebecca initially fell in love with because it reminded her of a small child racking their brain for a reason to get out of punishment. However, the face could have also meant that Hugo was just trying to see what kind of rise he'd get out of her if he falsely motioned to decline her request. So needless to say, the face solicited no response from the beautiful brunette, only a small delicate quirk of her eyebrow in which she used to scrutinze her husband.

"Darling, I'm sure Marty will have no qualms about closing tonight, if its a mutiny that you're concened about," she began, her voice trailing off into her familiar English drawl. Rebecca may not have lived in England for nearly eighty, ninety years, but her accent still had a tendency of popping into her conversation every now and again. The curious thing about her accent, however, is that it was slightly mingled with a very soft Irish, Gaelic undertone, making her voice sultry to all whom she spoke to. Her voice was quiet, but still authoritative at the same time, which came in handy when she was laying down the law and enforcing it when a drunkard tried to start kicking up trouble. As Hugo had always told her, she could be waving a scalding hot skillet in your face, and she'd still look the Virgin Mary. Rebecca was dangerous because of this, and didn't need any supernatural power to make sure her will was obeyed. Turning the focus back to the couple, Rebecca's amber eyes, slightly darker than usual due to an arriving day in which she would need to hunt, wandered to her husband's shoes, instantly picking out a scuff that she'd have to remember to polish out much later. Forgetting what she was about to say altogether, Rebecca's frown turned into a slight sneer as a slender finger pointed toward the toe of his shoe. "Love, you must let me give your shoes a good polish later." yes, it was bugging her that badly.

And then she proceeded to listen to Hugo's concerns with an uprising should the pub ever close, which made her resent the pub silently in the back of her head. She knew that the Stags Head was the second most important thing in his life, but sometimes felt that maybe she was pushed to the backburner in certain situations. The pub had once belonged to Hugo's father, whom she'd never had the delight to formally meet due to the man's extremely premature death. So she knew what Hugo felt like to a degree when it came to the pub. However, forgive the poor woman for appearing blunt, but the pub was only a place. It wasn't like the couple's quaint like apartment-sized penthouse above the tavern in which they called home, it was a place where the citizens and tourists of Dublin came to get snookered until they could hardly stand anymore. And then Hugo, Rebecca, and Marty would be left to clean up whatever was left of their sorry hides, the trio were constant caretakers to the old shack. Rebecca loved Hugo, yes, but sometimes felt that his irrational love for the pub got in the way of her own activities, or rather, activities that she would love Hugo to audience. It wasn't enough that Hugo could occupy himself for a full week by watching her practice, she'd wanted him to be to see her in her prime, the sole backbone of the amateur riverdancing troupe she participated in. She usually passed over the lead parts; recognition was never something that Rebecca cared enormously about. What she cared about what performing, awing the masses with her abilities, and knowing secretly to herself that the troupe would be absolutely nothing without her. And sometimes she just wished that Hugo would pass over a night of business just to see her where she was most comfortable, that didn't concern her niche at his hip.

As soon as she caught herself thinking this, however, Rebecca instantly felt slightly guilty. The guilt was pushed away, however, when a huge smile spread across her features, her skin sparkling all on its own without the aid of sunlight. She was foolish, she knew, to doubt her Hugo for a few seconds, and also felt a bit like a monster for having such thoughts. "Then I think they need a good night to themselves, if they are truly discontent with you. It's only one night, Hugo, I'm sure they'll understand. With the festival making its premier tonight, maybe a handful will even turn up for the festivities. If so I think they'll recognize the need for you to close early. We'll just have to be careful not to make this a regular habit, is all."

She giggled at Hugo's suggestion of their closed sign being drug away, a very bemusing picture flooding her thoughts. Rebecca shook her head slowly at the thought, as she watched Hugo pivot, no doubt to go off in search of the closed sign. Biting her lower lip in a girlish smirk, she was about to pivot herself, in order to maneuver around the bar and out into the open pub. It was then that Hugo spoke, making her foot stop dead in the middle of a pivot, that she turned the rest of her torso slightly so that she could shoot him a questioning look. "Don't look me, Hugo. I've not a clue where we've put the sign," she countered with a slight raise of her eyebrow, until his sentence took on a different meaning. The moment his lips touched hers, Rebecca thought she heard the tiny coo of a cherub trill in her ear, before it was interrupted with her own laughter. "Mr. Nelson!" she exclaimed, loud enough so that the exchange was only audible to the both of them. The customers in the pub were too wrapped up in their own conversations anyway to pay mind to the two behind the counter. "That was highly sneaky of you!" she teased, squinting her eyes a little bit the way she always had. "The opening performance begins at eight thirty. A little early, I realize, but I'm only one woman. I can't have everything my way, err I would have loved to have the opener a bit later, sadly. "[/blockquote][/blockquote]

*

[/b] sometimes i wish that i could freeze the picture[/font][/size]
1099 WORDS | MR. NELSON <3 | THE STAGS HEAD PUB | LYRICS from ABBA[/center][/size][/font]