Eugene

When Eugene was a child, he loved his mother. Like all children tended to do, he stuck to her like a limpet. She was his whole world back then. He remembered the day Harvey left for America as vividly as if it happened yesterday.

His mother had fallen to the floor in desperation, hiding her face as she choked down her sobs. Her oldest son, leaving. It was probably enough to make her heart break. Eugene had tried his best to console her, in place of his absent father. Grasping at her long skirts with chubby, tiny hands. She had simply smiled through the tears and told him that everything would be okay.

It wasn't.

And it would never be okay.

Years passed, and his mothers health declined. His father, who had been extremely busy as the village's only blacksmith, died when Eugene just turned twelve. Leaving both him and his mother alone. They got along okay, surviving on what little they had. But his mother could never quite get over the loss of his brother and father.

When he was finally drafted to go to war in America, a revolutionary war, he left his mother bed bound and frail. She was practically skeletal. He didn't know it then, but now. Now he was certain that she had pneumonia.

Eugene had died on that very battlefield.

Only to be resurrected again as a vampire by Vitus Modesto. The very first thing he did was try to find his mother.

But all he found was a grave.

Eugene slammed down on the breaks of his car as he was brought out of his musings. He was here. Night Time Cravings. God he could use some blood right now, anything to take his mind off from the past. He wished he could get hammered, but he had to drive back. And if Eugene was anything, he wasn't a total prat.

Slamming the door wide open, he stormed out of his car and made his way to the club. He pushed by the guards at the front door, accidentally shouldering one of them. He would have felt bad for it, if he wasn't in such a foul mood.

As he made his way through the club he tunnel visioned to the bar. Standing behind it was the elderly woman who run the club, Francine. She was a frail old thing, with heavy set wrinkles and laughter lines. Fluffy white hair cut short, and a black walking cane she took with her everywhere.

She was a generous person, always looking for her numerous patrons. She was the grandmother of everyone who came into this bar. Eugene trudged his way up to the bar, and collapsed on the bar stool in front of her.

Francine smiled softly at him, eyes crinkling as she did so. "What's wrong, dear?" She asked, tilting her head. "The usual?". Eugene nodded, resting his head on his hands as he closed his eyes despairingly.

He heard the tinkling of glasses being gently knocked together, and then the pouring of liquid. There was a quiet thud as the drink was placed in front of him. Slowly he opened his eyes to find a champagne glass of blood in front of him.

Eagerly he chugged it down, not noticing he had spilt some of it on his jeans. He shook his shirt, to try and cool himself down some, sweating buckets. It was surprisingly hot down in the club today.

"Now, do you want to tell me what's wrong?" Francine questioned, wiping down the bar table as she did so. He contemplated telling her for a few seconds, running round the thoughts in his brain. He could trust her, he knew that much.

"Family problems," He grunted out eventually. Francine seemed to mull it over for a bit, then pulled out a jug of fresh blood for him, refilling his glass immediately.

"The worst kind," She sympathised with a slow nod. Eugene took an eager gulp of blood, knocking it down like it was a shot. Sweat began to acclimate on his brow and looked around the room to see if anyone else was feeling the same way. To see that there was no one there.

How was it that there was no one around? Night Time Cravings was always busy at all hours of the day, morning, noon and night. "Why is it empty?" Eugene said, taking another cursory look around the club.

Francine tutted like she was overly disappointed in something. "We're closed hunny, the ac is broken so no one is in today but me and the usual guards. They shouldn't even be here, but you know how my husband is," She explained, beaming at the mention of her husband.

Eugene nodded slowly. How had he not noticed that? He had been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed the club was closed. That brought about another question altogether. Why had he been allowed in? He voiced his thoughts, to which Francine chuckled.

"I saw your car on the CCTV, and told the guards to let you in," She said with a wink, gesturing to the TV screen above the bar table. Eugene felt oddly warmed by the gesture.It was nice to be taken care of in such a way, it reminded him of his mother.

He frowned as thoughts began to overtake him once more. There was a pat on his shoulder, and he turned to look to see a elderly hand on his shoulder. Behind him stood Francine's husband, the oldest vampire he knew, Jacques.

He looked just as old, if not older than Francine but frequently dyed his hair black to 'relive his youth'. His words, not Eugene's. The man was grinning at him from ear to ear, as he squeezed his shoulder once before letting go.

"Everything will be okay, you don't get to this age without a few family fights," Jacques inclined, a french tilt to his accent. Eugene nodded, and reluctantly stood up. It was about time he went home.

Home

Funny. He hadn't considered a place his home since his mother died. But it was alright, if Annalise was there, then maybe. Just maybe he could have a home again. With a terse smile, he left the club. Leaving money on the counter to pay for his drinks.

It was about time he came home.