Gabriela And Heath - Blog Posts

hearing the other voice caused her shoulders to jolt upwards, wiping her tears, she sniffed before letting out a sigh. "no, not really. pretty sure the only person who has seen me cry is my husband. which has been in our house and never in public." this all felt like a new low, of course she'd dealt with much worse. being a demon who brought souls wasn't exactly an easy or decent job. yet, she would rather be doing that than know that her family was in danger. "just got a lot going on and really not sure how to handle any of it, but i'll figure it out."

looking up at the other, she noticed the cigarette and decided to give into temptation. "do you have any more of those?" the only thing the demon smoked was for medical purposes but right now the smell seemed to provide calm.

Cigarette smoke swirled upward from the ash tray on his desk as he read over the current file he'd been working on. Typical work like always, some husband wanting to catch his wife in the act of cheating or vise versa. It seemed like no one in New Orleans had the desire to be faithful. At least not the seedy fools who came slinking into his office. It always ended the same way, even the ones seeking truth were often unfaithful as well, just looking for a reason to feel better about their own actions.

Tired, and with a headache that made reading the small printed text nearly impossible, he stood up, placed the still it cigarette in his mouth, and stepped out of the office. Down the internal steps and out the front door, he walked with the cigarette hanging from his lips, checking his phone and barely looking where he was going. That was the typical routine. He always had unread notifications from girls he'd hooked up with once or twice (never three times), or clients looking for updates on cases he hadn't broken yet. For the most part, all of them went ignored.

As he strode out of the office building and toward the water to enjoy fresh, clean air along with his cigarette smoke, he caught the sound of someone crying. His bread and butter, truly. Unlike some men who loved to pray on the emotionally unstable for romantic purposes, Heath had realized early in his career that these were the people who needed his help most. They had cases, they had issues, they had problems that only a sneak like Heath could solve.

He came to a stop next to the emotionally distraught person and flicked the cigarette ash onto the ground. Taking a long drag, he exhaled and said, "You alright?" Clearly they were not alright, but hey I noticed you sobbing from across the street was not a good entry into conversation with a stranger.