4

Et voilà la centième note... On voulait faire quelque chose avec Jarjar pour fêter cela mais la rhino-sinusite a eu raison de ma créativité et le temps passé à prendre soin de moi a eu raison de celle de Jarjar. Du coup, ce sera un post avec un extrait de nano, normal pour un mois de novembre... Sachant que j'en suis à deux jours sans écrire à cause de cette foutue crève qui me tape vraiment fort sur le cerveau !

I could not believe how cold and detached I felt. I was no longer one of them, my mind said, and I did not know where that came from, only that it was there, and it was right. I was not on the same plane as those who danced and drank around me in a frenzy of partying, trying to mate for the night. I was a hunter, I thought, and here came the perfect prey.

Tall, broad in the shoulders but with narrow hips and slim legs in a second-skin jean, he had that kind of fashionable silhouette I hated in a man. I never wanted to have a boyfriend who could put on my jeans while I myself couldn't squeeze half a hip in his. But this guy must have tremendous success with hipster girls. Medium long hair, with bangs that fell halfway in his face and could be replaced with an impatient jerk of his head, blue eyes and a winning smile. I could also see some acne scars on his cheeks, not completely hidden by foundation.
He came to me with confidence, looking down on me despite my heels, and smiled even broader. Either I looked better than I thought, or there was something more coming with vampirism, as far as attracting guys was concerned. Or he thought I felt like an easy prey, standing here alone. This would be ironic.

-“Salut”, he said in French. “Je suis César”.

Yeah, right. And my name was Cleopatra. But then maybe his name really was César. Who knows what French people can do to unsuspecting and innocent babies.