As if nothing has changed [AU]

For @Samuel <3
Outfit
Sunglasses

She still felt the jetlag, like a pounding in the back of her skull. She needed coffee, and she needed it before Dexter got the brilliant idea of looking at more places to live. She cared for the guy, sure, but he was a pain in the ass - especially with his ridiculous riddles and strange wax face. Was his face even his own? She had sometimes thought that perhaps he was a skinwalker or a lizard person who might just think he was doing a great job of hiding his real race, but alas, the daemon was really just this lost.
He of course never strayed far, it was almost like he was doing it on purpose, but she knew he was just terrible out in public. His people skills were so-so, but he was genuinely a genius. However that didn't change that she needed some caffeine in her system before she had to deal with him. Ordering her usual one of a black coffee with two sugars, she pushed up her sunglasses to sit in her hair as she paid cash. Gods, it was weird handling Units, the bills just felt almost flimsy compared to the American Dollars.
Stepping aside, she waited briefly before the name Lela was yelled, walking up, taking her coffee with one hand as she pushed her sunglasses down once again with her free hand. Moving outside she felt the slight breeze hit her, warming her hands on the coffee cup as she headed down to the meeting point where Dexter would be. She was looking around, feeling like this place looked so familiar, but she couldn't really put a finger on why. Perhaps because all apartments looked like each other?
However as her eyes were occupied, she failed to notice that she walked right in to a tall figure, her coffee spilling everywhere all over her hands and burning her. Stepping away she started swearing "fuck, bitch, shit, cunt," she spoke out, trying to shake the scolding coffee off her fingers as well as trying to dry off her hands in her leather jacket. Then she seemed to realize she had hit someone, "shit, I'm sorry," she said, looking up from under her sunglasses at a tall man.

There was rarely something that could happen randomly to Samuel. At least not if he had something to do about it first. It was hard to believe what his men had been telling him. He always had them keep an eye out whenever they were out doing their jobs, but out of all the people he had told them to look out for, someone that completely fit Eilish's looks was unlikely. He wanted to see for himself, solely because of the fact that he had never had a picture of her or anything that could narrow the search. And on the other hand, was it never expected that she would be found. For all Samuel knew, she had to be dead by now. It was the only thing that made sense.
And yet seeing her in the coffee shop was oddly strange. In a way he couldnt describe. Samuel wasnt the kind to show much of his feelings, at least not behind closed doors first. His face showed no change, but the daemon was processing a lot right now. He moved away from the window and looked out on the street, pulling out his pack of cigarettes before placing one in the corner of his mouth. He thought about back then but as much as Samuel didnt forget any important event, it had been so out of the blue that he hadnt had the time to store any thought or feeling. He couldnt go before he knew whether she was the one or just some that looked like her. As she moved out of the coffee shop and his way, he saw the opportunity. She was preoccupied and barely seemed to notice him. The coffee only hit his shoes but he barely cared as his eyes were just on her. Even the voice was the same. Her apology made a small smile spread on his lips as he lifted a hand to signal that it was fine. "Dont worry about it, it's just as much my fault for going around mindlessly in my own thoughts," he halfway lied, but from what he had learned, a good lie got even better if the truth was sewn into it.
He looked at the cup in her hand before looking at her. "And you were the one who lost your coffee, so I should be the one apologizing," he assured her, to then look at her hand. That had to hurt. "Does it hurt a lot?" he asked in genuine concern, though you'd have to know him to see it.

A lot of crazy things always seemed to happen to her, it was perhaps just part of her life, but as she locked eyes with the stranger, she felt something. It was unspoken, but she felt like she knew this man - only she couldn't remember where from. He seemed to take the whole ordeal rather calmly, but she was still shaking her hands, trying to rub the warm liquid off in her coat. Simply humming as he spoke about her losing her coffee, it was kind of the least of her concerns as her fingers were now rather red. Of course she could fix it, but she knew better than to use her incantations in public. Looking at her hand she felt a bit frozen in place as he seemed to inspect it with his eyes. Frowning at his question she pulled her hand away, not one to give in to the comfort of a stranger.
"Stings like a bitch, might leave a mark," she mumbled a bit incoherently, mostly because she was trying to downplay the way her skin felt like boiling. "But hey, your shoes took quite the damage," she said, looking down at what undoubtedly was a pair of very expensive designer shoes. Or at least they looked the part of fancy footwear. Why was she even talking to this guy? She was just supposed to go and meet Dexter and then get on with things, but it was as if her body couldn't just move on. Did he have some unknown power over her? Was he mind-controlling her or something like that? No, that couldn't be it, she still felt very much that these were all her thoughts and actions.
Also, his eyes, there was something about those almond shaped eyes with the grey tint that just seemed hypnotizing. "Anyways, I should get a new cup already - I'm already running late," she lied. She wasn't late to anything as Dexter always seemed to give her some slack. Lela was a great liar, many years of practice and a stoic face to match, but today her eyes betrayed her. It felt strange, her eyes moving away from the stranger to look back at the coffee shop where a long line was already gathering outside. Breathing out through her nose she shook her head, she could forget all about that stupid coffee, because getting in line would show that she had at least time to wait for that. "Fuck the coffee," she mumbled, turning her gaze back to the daemon. Why wasn't she just leaving? Everything about him seemed familiar, but none of it made sense; Had she met this dude before? Or was he one of those people that always seemed to reappear in her dreams?
Then she seemed to notice that he was smoking a cigarette, but not just any one brand. It was a brand she was very familiar with, but not one you could get in Churchill as far as she could tell. "Where did you get those? I mean I smuggled some in when I came here, but I only got a few packs left," she said, narrowing her eyes as she felt a little surprised by this. A stranger, one that she felt she recognized and he was even smoking her brand of cigarettes? This felt absurd. That was when she felt an arm swing around her, his cologne giving him away in an instant. "There you are, darling, I was starting to get worried," an utter complete lie, but Dexter had a slight crazed smile on his lips as per usual. "Ah, I see you've met an old colleague of mine; Samuel Prideux, if my memory is up to par," which of course it was. Dexter was in common terms called a super genius. He knew a lot about biology, could spend days of solving math problems, but his biggest passion had to be riddles. "Now, now, tell me old friend, how are you and what of your little business?"

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that," he said, again in all it's genuine, as he just couldnt help it when it was her. Though again, no one else would ever recognize it, maybe not even her yet. As she mentioned his shoes, he shrugged, barely acknowledging it. "Shoes are shoes," he said in a nonchalant tone. Sure, Samuel liked style, but he was also quite rich enough to handle losing a pair of shoes. Well, as long as it was Eilish who ruined them, then he wouldnt ever care.
He shifted between her eyes as a small smirk was on his lips, the charming Prideux smile that both the brothers had mastered at this point. Samuel was known to be the serious one of them, so you could say he was trying to impress. "Sure, go get your coffee," he said like he left the choice up to her. It wasnt something he liked, but again, he wasnt quite sure who it was that he was dealing with.
He drew in a deep inhale from his cigarette, watching her as she seemed to be stuck in comtemplation, or was it conflict? Her mumble made his smile wider as he exhaled the smoke into the air. "I shouldnt hold you back from whatever you're running late from," he said, to sort of rise the bait from the fact that she had been the one who wanted to leave. So if that was what she really wanted, he wasnt going to hold her back. Seeing her confusion as she looked at him was enough to know that there was something.
Her question about his cigarette brand made him shortly glance at the cigarette. It had to be... How else would she had known the brand? He was just about to answer just as their conversation was interrupted. By no other than Dexter Tremaine. The slick smile that Samuel just wanted to punch back into his skull; And by no means was Samuel ever the kind to use violence himself. He remembered how they had gotten along but at some point their different views on how to drive the business collided. Samuel was always more oriented on making money, while Dexter seemed to care more about the research.
"Awfully better than the last time you were around, Mr Tremaine," he simply replied, a cold smile spreading on his lips. "Though I do wonder whether you've been keeping up contact with your mother. I know how close you were back in the day, and I surely hope it has continued," he remarked coldly, like he saw no problem in mentioning Mrs. Tremaine.

It felt like being in some fucked up dream, one where things happened in some sort of fluid motion, but you had no real control or real understanding of what was going on. She felt caught up on the cigarettes, perhaps because that was something tangible, something that she knew when she felt like everything was different. Or well, the stranger seemed recognizable, but that was about it. She had met people before, people who she recognized, but this was far different. Often she could at least remember their names or maybe some fun fact about them. But when she looked at this stranger it was like his face was all she really knew.
Feeling Dexter weasel his arm around her made her jaw tense. She knew he meant well, this was one of his ways of protecting her in his own weird ways. However Lela was rather surprised to hear that the two men knew each other. The daemon spitting out a remark about the man by her side, and she could already feel the fuel inside Dexter rise from the mere mention of his mother. He had spoken quite a lot about her, a trait she found endearing even though she had no real contact to her own family.
"She is quite well, if that is what you are asking - although she has felt an ache in her older years, but she is still in good health," he said, rambling slightly as if to not lash out against the daemon in public. Him and Samuel had once shared a collected goal, but it seemed as though the friendship they once had was far gone now. However, he felt like he had the upper hand, having Lela by his side right now. "Ah, my poor manners; Samuel, this is Lela - we are actually looking at houses in the neighborhood," although part of him had hoped the daemon would take longer to find her. At least he had the control over her right now, and it would remain as such for the time being. "We should really get going," he said, his hand moving down, holding her close by her hip, wondering if Samuel was ready to kill him on the spot.
"Pleasure meeting you, Mr. Prideux, but Dex is right ... I guess I'll see you around," she said, not really showing her confliction about Dexter holding her close right now. She could give him a few hits later for this, but in the end she couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity that this Samuel was making her feel. "Not to worry, Sammy boy, we'll make sure to invite you to our housewarming," he said with his lips curling up in to his natural mischievous smile.

The rambling only seemed to amuse the daemon - At least he knew that Dexter was trying to contain himself. But of course, Samuel was the one who had nothing in all this, not when Dexter was keeping his arm around her like he owned her. Samuel resented it, more than anything. "Lela," he repeated, looking back at her but it was like when he did, his eyes were different. Not stern and ice cold like when he looked at Dexter. He didnt have to look down to notice the hand moving down to her hip, it was like his eyes picked up on everything that was revolving around Lela. It was getting to him even if he wasnt looking at it, but what could he really do? He had to be smart, though it would be quite a task when Dexter was involved. Samuel loved a good challenge.
Lela. He wondered if she had picked the name herself. "Pleasure meeting you Miss. Lela," he said all formally but also with a hint of charm. Dexter's remark however made the warmness fade in an instant. "How considerate," he said with a small smile over his lips, but he felt that nerve in his jaw tick, wanting to just grind his teeth at the other man. "Lela." he said before he reached down into his pocket and pulled out his pack, to then hold out towards her. "In case you run out," he said. It was a fairly new pack, so it wasnt like he was giving her nothing.

She knew they had to go, but something in her told her that if Dexter hadn't been here, she would've followed this man until she figured out why he was so familiar. They were about to turn around and leave as he said her name a third time. Why did his voice sound so inviting? And why was she actually in to it? She normally hated anything with flirting and charm, but this man had made her forget those prejudices she had. He handed her an opened packet of cigarettes, the brand she liked, reaching out to take it carefully.
"How very considerate of you," Dexter said, before pulling Lela with him. Her
fingers folded around the packet of cigarettes, her thumbs making a small indent in the package, but not really ruining the contents. "You're a real weirdo," she mumbled to Dexter as they had gotten away, wriggling herself out of his grip to take a few steps ahead, pulling a cigarette out. Placing the bud between her lips, she pulled out an old zippo lighter, lighting the end and inhaling the familiar taste of smoke as the nicotine would do wonders for her - at least now that she didn't have her coffee. The worst part now was how she was going to heal her hands, but she knew for a fact that as soon as she got the time, she could fix up a quick brew to heal.

Of course Lela's thoughts hadn't stopped spinning. She was confused, even as she went for a walk she felt her mind cluttering with thoughts. However that hadn't stopped her from noticing that people were following her. She couldn't be sure if it was one of Dexter's ideas, or perhaps a stalker, so she did nothing much out of the ordinary. Mostly she just stayed at home in the house that Dexter had bought, but it was in full swing of being renovated. The noises made it almost impossible for her to find a spot where she could just relax and write down some spell ideas. So she had taken it upon herself to find a new spot, a place where she didn't need to listen to all of the hammering and sawing noises.
Today she had grabbed a coffee from home, placed it in a travel mug and grabbed her most essential things; For one her book of spells - she rarely left home without it these days - and of course her wand. She had also grabbed a small bag with which she could place her things as well as the insides of the bag being divided in to smaller compartments. It made it easier if she came across an herb or flower she might be needing for her brews.
The person had been following her almost since she left the house, but she had went about her walk as she usually would. She was curious, but making something a public hassle might mean that her stalker would give in before she could come to the bottom of it all. Lela had grown up in a bad neighborhood, so she had learnt how to defend herself from an early age. She always carried a small switchblade, one with beautiful engravings on it, but she couldn't remember who had actually given it to her. The engraved letters made even less sense, E.P., but she assumed it had been the previous owners initials.
Turning away from the main road, she moved in to a more forested area, one that she knew nothing about, but she decided to follow her instincts. She was quickly greeted by a small meadow, filled with wild flowers and the scent of different herbs hitting her nose. For the first time in a long time, she felt relaxed, sitting down by the shade of a tree as she cut free a few mushrooms that she placed on
a linen cloth by her side. However it seemed as though her stalker followed her, but she simply pretended not to know. She needed to spot him before she could do much. And then, there he was. Her movements quick as she flung her knife in his direction, pinning the guy to a tree, her knife sticking out of the man's palm.
She got up, folding up the mushrooms neatly before she walked over to the stalker, looking him up and down, but she didn't recognize him. "Why are you following me?" she asked in a calm and collected voice, almost devoid of any emotion except for coldness. "You aren't the only one, I know because the guy yesterday had blonde hair, and yours is as black as night - so that means you must be hired by someone; Who is it?"

The order was clear. Keep at a distance and simply observe. Dont interact, dont make her feel as if anyone was trying to be out to get her. But again, goons could only do as much. A better option had to be hire someone more professional. Unless he didnt mind the chance of being caught. But it couldnt have been Samuel's plan if every outcome and possible aspect hadnt been taken into consideration. So the clumsiness of a goon was the least of concerns. It was more figuring out what they could do if they were exposed. And as the knife was thrown and pinned the goon's hand to a tree, it was quick thoughts that made him clench his teeth rather than yell out and draw attention. His eyes slightly teary from the pain as she approached him. He grabbed the knife and pulled it from the tree to inspect how it was going through his hand. "Orders," he said as if he was running an automatic script. He sniffled and held his breath as he pulled the knife from his hand, handing it to her as she explained the other goons. "Lela... Eilish... Whatever your name is," he said a little more humanlike, looking up at her as he hid the pain that seemed to throb in his hand. "From the descriptions we have gotten of you, you're smart enough to do the math on your own," he simply said, reaching down into his pocket with his healthy hand to pull out a picture. She would probably recognize it because it looked exactly like her. He handed it to her, letting her inspect it. Her knife carried the initials, but the photo had the full name and date on the back of it.

Lela took the knife, wiping it off in some leaves, but she would have to do some real cleaning on the blade later. For now she placed it back in her pocket, but not so far away if she was needing to use it again. The man had a great control over his emotions, and she could see he was in pain, but the fact that he hadn't started screaming yet was commendable. Then he said her name, or rather names as if he was going to finish her full name. Narrowing her eyes, she took a cautious step back as the man dug in to his pocket. But what he retrieved she could barely comprehend. This was a picture of her, sure, but she didn't remember this being taken. Reaching out carefully, she took the picture, flipping it around and looked at the date along with the name. This picture was taken at least 30 years ago, but she looked like she did now. How was that possible? She shook her head, looking at the name before her eyes widened. Prideux. Gritting her teeth she knew this was risky, but she had to get to the bottom of this.
"Can you take me to him? Right now," she said, but it wasn't really a question, more of a demand. She knew that he knew, and perhaps he knew that she knew. Samuel Prideux. A man she had met yesterday but felt so familiar. And here was a picture of her from three decades ago bearing his last name. It had to be connected, but how she wasn't sure. "I don't give a shit about orders, he clearly wants to get my attention, so I'll give it to him," she said if the man seemed hesitant or refused. Packing her things together, she stood ready to follow the man.

The goon just gave her the time she needed to look at the picture, tending the wound in his hand. Samuel probably had something that would make it seem as if nothing had ever happened so it wasnt like he was intending on doing much to it. He just grabbed a few pads and some bandage of a kind. It least it wasnt anywhere else than the hand and it wasnt wide like if he had been shot. He wrapped his hand and scoffed at her words. He was hesitant of course, but it was mostly because he hadnt been given any further orders. "Fine. I dont doubt you can handle yourself," he finally said after being quiet for a while. He carefully applied pressure to his bandaged hand, gritting his teeth a little at the pain. "Can I give you a tip? As a non-stalker but instead the observer I've been for years?" he then asked. But it didnt seem to matter if she had answered. "Both of them are dangerous. Dexter Tremaine, Samuel Prideux. If you are really who Mr. Prideux think you are, this will turn ugly," he said all truthfully. He pressed on the wound again, grunting slightly in pain. "Just consider the intention of the man in front of you," he said as a last remark as he let go of his hand and turned to lead the way.

What was this guys deal anyways? First he had been stalking her and now he was trying to give her life advise as if he knew her? She didn't even reply to his question, simply let him ramble on. Sure she would be cautious, any person would be in this scenario, but she could fend for herself. She wasn't afraid of anything that might face her next, and this Samuel had at least seemed decent when she met him at first.
"I would say I appreciate it, but that would be a lie," she said in a more even leveled voice, her dark eyes moving ahead as they started walking. He reminded her of a dad, like the kind you saw in movies who would always be there for a group of friends. However she knew that this guy was a man for hire, so she wouldn't dare to speculate his normal life. As they walked out of the forest, she stopped for a second, digging in to her bag. Pulling out a small sealed jar, she handed it to the man, breathing out in a sigh. "It's going to sting, but it'll close up the wound in no time," she simply said before they continued to move once again.
Lela didn't mind walking, as she walked almost everywhere - at least when she wasn't accompanying Dexter to something. Her and Dexter had a weird relationship, it wasn't a romantic one or even a sibling kind. She just sort of accepted that he was there, and he seemed to be very interested in her. Why, she wasn't really sure, but she had time to figure it out eventually. Besides, he was the closest thing to family that she had right now, and perhaps she was getting sentimental, but it felt good to at least know someone that she could rely on. Even if he only cared about her for a specific reason.
"If he's dangerous, as you say he is, would you mind telling me more about Prideux?" she asked, looking up at the sky. A few lazy clouds hung high in the air, and the sun was rather nice today. Spring had finally arrived it seemed.

"Well, I thought someone should give you a bit of honesty in these confusing times," he said. Of course he had noted how confused she had looked when she saw the picture and he couldnt begin to imagine what she had been through or if she had been through anything. He was just a goon after all. As she stopped, he did too, looking at her for a bit as she seemed to fetch something. The small jar made him lift an eyebrow but he took it and thanked her before they went on.
Her question made him sigh as he kept his eyes ahead rather than looking at her. "I can only explain from the perspective of a worker to employer-kind of perspective. And there's only one thing to say about Mr. Prideux in that manner. He drives his business in the cuthroat manner, not only in the regard of being ruthless. He doesnt tolerate mistakes or slip ups. So I guess I could say that he is the kind of man that cant tolerate not having things going after his head," he remarked. A small smirk spread on his lips and he scoffed. "His brother is the same kind of ruthless, but far more lax. But it doesnt matter. They're both cold as stone and from my personal perspective has never cared about anything that isnt a profit to them," he said. But he didnt know the whole story. He could only speak of what he knew. "You might wonder what makes me think that way," he said with a sigh. He was definitely blabbering more than was what allowed. It was up to her what she would do with the information. "I base my views on how I see them treat Samuel's daughter. Vanessa," he finally said. He looked at Lela and shrugged. "I think you can really see a man's true colours in the way he treats his own kin,"

She had expected some sort of briefing moment, like short facts about his height or his temper, but this was more detailed than she had thought. A little surprising, but she really saw nothing wrong with being protective of one's property and making sure his business ran smoothly. Obsessed or not, it just sounded like good things in her ears, even though this man was actively warning her. Danger had never really been something that she saw herself in. She was much too rational to actively fear anything, and how many times had Dexter not had to drag her away from a fist fight back in New York?
Then he mentioned a daughter. Vanessa. The name didn't really sound familiar, but she guessed it was a pretty name. "Ruthlessness isn't always a bad trait," she simply stated, frowning a bit as she looked at her hand, stretching it and folding it in to a fist. "But thank you for your words," she said, although she wasn't sure she really meant it. He was entitled to his opinions, and as he had said, he could only speak from a certain point of view. "You don't seem like the usual goon; Why are you working this job?" she asked.

"No, I agree. It's good in a tough business, very good. Less good on the working staff and whatever rival that dares to tread too far," he said, clearly agreeing with her though. He shrugged at her thanks. It seemed more like a fair warning that some sort of favour to him. He only looked at her in short moments, mostly because he was unsure what he was looking at. Just another ufortunate pawn in the endless powerplay or something else. He couldnt pinpoint it in his mind. But he never had to, because he was just a goon. "The pay is good. And I really need it. I lost my wife last year and now all I've got is my daughter. I really want her to get somewhere in life, so I risk my life to make sure she does," he said with a shrug, because he had a feeling that she would have asked if he didnt clarify beforehand. And walking in silence was boring either way. "She's all that 's left of what I once had, that and our family home that cant live on a ordinary paycheck" he said. Soon after they arrived at the mansion and he nodded his head at her. "Good luck Lela," he said as he held the door for her, leaving her with the instructions as to how she should find the office.

Samuel had been sitting in the window watching them as he smoked his cigarette in peace. He always knew where his goons where, so as soon as he had seen Kyle head back, he sort of knew what to expect. His collar was slightly undone and his sleeves rolled up, the glasses had been put away.

As the guy started opening up more she wasn't sure whether to call it brave or an act of stupidity. He was really the trusting type it seemed, but she knew that most people from the get go seemed more trusting. At least in her experience. As he spoke about his daughter, she felt a slight hint of remorse for hurting his hand, but then again, she had given him a remedy that could help the healing along. However things were slowly adding up as to why this guy might not see Samuel as a good person in general. She wouldn't let that cloud her judgement too much, mostly because she knew all about being judged simply on looks.
His life situation wasn't sounding too good, but at least he had the guts to stand up and actually be a parent where as some just left their children when things got too tough. She had even heard of a mother estranging herself from her own child, simply because of the father's choices. A bad situation, but people got hurt, and that was the way of life. The man soon enough wished her good luck, and she looked up at the stairs in the grand hall. Heading up and following his instructions she knocked on the door to the office - or at least the one she presumed to be the office. She still had her knife, and if all else failed she would have to draw her wand, even though it wasn't her first option when fighting. Magic was great, but it came with consequences, and it wasn't just as in the movies or books. It was serious business.
If she was granted access she walked in, her posture on point and her face relaxed. It all seemed so familiar, but she still couldn't put a finger on why. In front of her, there he was, Mr. Prideux himself. She took a few steps closer, placing the picture of the woman on his desk, sliding it across to him. "Who the hell is this person and why does she have my face?"

His attitude was cold, but it wasn't really scaring her as much as she thought it would. He was stern, but somehow she could see a softness in his eyes, yet she wasn't sure why until he disclosed the identity of the person in the picture. His wife? Gods, had she really just walked in to a deranged person's house seeing as that person in the picture was so clearly one of her, right? He offered her a chair, but she decided to remain standing, at least for now, crossing her arms as she widened her stance a bit.
As he flipped her question she shrugged, looking at him with her eyes a bit calmer now, but she was also so aware of her surroundings. "Then how did you get my name right? On the back?" she asked a bit in disbelief. It couldn't just be two Eilish's running around looking identical, right? Flipping the image she pointed to the first name. "That is my middle name, but I don't recall ever marrying anyone," she said, but it was clear she was starting to get frustrated. What did all of this mean? Leaning away from the table she took a few steps back, but still looking at Samuel.
"Oh, I get it ... This is some sick prank, right? Did Dexter put you up to this?"

She could hardly believe what she heard, her eyes calm but her insides were crumbling. Then the last name came, and she felt her heart skip a beat. This had to be some sick joke, and she knew Dexter was behind this. Why else had everything been falling into place like this? Samuel got up, and she watched him as he found an old album. Taking it, she felt a little unsure about opening it up, but she eventually did.
The first few pictures seemed fine, but it was still a bit weird to look at. Then the first picture of Samuel and Eilish came before her eyes. Or was it him and her? The way she was sitting so relaxed in his lap, how even Samuel seemed to emote, it was rather different from the man in front of her. Turning the page over she swallowed, her eyes going blank for a few seconds as she looked at the wedding picture. Flowers were surrounding the couple, and it was quite clearly a lavish reception with many people. However the bride and groom were only seeing each other, hell both of them were even smiling, and Lela hated her smile. "When were these taken?" She asked, but her voice had relaxed more, soft spoken almost. "We look happy," she stated in almost a whisper. She was kind off convinced at this point that this was her, but how could she look the same still? She had always learned that a maleficus aged like any other human, but she clearly hadn't aged a day.
Her fingers lingered on a part of the photography,  it was just a picture of their rings, but the tattoo on Samuel's hand was clearly visible. She knew that picture. Ever since she could remember she had drawn the outline of that tattoo.
Closing the album up she handed it back to Samuel. "I don't remember this, so it probably isn't me," she stated, but she felt unsure in her statement, and it was showing.

Lela found it hard to even wrap her mind around all of this, but as he placed the album back she wanted to reach out and look at the pictures again. The couple was genuinely happy, they were on their wedding day and you could just see the pure joy in every photo. Of course she had never been the sentimental type, but there was just something about those pictures that made her want to remember - but were those even her memories?
He suggested a blood test, making her frown, but it seemed as though he gave up on that idea. Gritting her teeth she stepped closer, her eyes determined. "If there's a way to know, then I don't see the harm; If I'm not her, then at least we know for sure, right?" she said. She felt bad for the guy, he clearly had had some rough years without the one he cared for. She was of course rather weary about what the result might be, but she was rather certain that this was her first time ever in Churchill.
Just then she felt her phone buzz, recognizing the vibrations she sighed, pulling out her phone to pick it up. "What do you want, Dexter?" she hissed, but she seemed rather contained in her posture. "I'm over at Mr. Prideux house," - "what do you mean? Fuck off, I'm not in the mood for your stupid riddles," - "alright, alright; Chill. Here," she said holding the phone over to Samuel. Frankly she was not in the mood for all of this, and she had enough on her mind as it was. She gestured to the window, holding up the pack of cigarettes he had given her those weeks ago, asking for permission to smoke. As he spoke on the phone with Dexter, she popped the bud between her teeth, biting down on it slightly as she looked for her lighter.

"You just couldn't stay away from her, huh?" Dexter chuckled through the phone, his grin from ear to ear. "I don't blame you, she is as enchanting as ever; Oh, but what a shame she doesn't remember you, hmmm, what ever could we do to fix this?" he snickered.

Dexter didn't reply, simply giggled at the other end. He had always loved playing games and tricks on others, but this was clearly a new level. Lela was minding her own business, smoking her cigarette in peace and sighing in relief as the nicotine slowly moved through her body. Taking the phone as he handed it to her, she put it back in her pocket, feeling the knife and as it clashed with the phone it made a faint clinking noise.
His words made her scoff softly, flicking some of her ash in to an ashtray he had in the windowsill, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought it all through. "Honestly I don't know what is going on, but I can't tell you what to do," she pondered, because she was curious. Had she really known him before, and in that case, why had things changed? "But could you at least stop with the stalking part? I mean your goons aren't really all that discrete," she said, turning her face to look at him as he looked at his hand. Her eyes moved back to her own hand, holding it out, closing one eye as if she was sizing it up. "I have a feeling that you're trying to stay away, and if I'm honest that might be the best option for you, right?" it wasn't really that she didn't care, she more so wanted to view this from a more logical angle.
Chuckling softly, she shook her head, scratching her lower lip with her thumb before drawing in another round of nicotine. Holding in the smoke before blowing it slowly out her nose, her lips separated once again. "But if you're asking me on a date then I'm free on Friday," she said, looking at him with a hint of teasing in her eyes. It wasn't mean, it was more her way of flirting. Hell, if they were married, then she didn't have to worry about him proposing or anything like that, right?