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No one knew where Renhardt had even found a guitar in the ruins of Oakhurst. He had simply declared tonight to be a night of singing around a campfire, teaching everyone some basic call-and-response songs, and that was that.
Avid had been… quiet. Mouthing along when directed, but not letting words slip past his lips. His eyes were caught on flickering flames, his mind deep in the past. Of nights next to a fireplace, her head on his shoulder as he strummed an oh so familiar tune. Nights before blood, a stake driven through her heart, her screams begging him to join her-
Ren was good with the guitar, Avid could easily give him that - his fingers were deft, plucking strings and strumming chords with a practiced ease. Avid wondered who had taught him how to play, how to sing like that. It was so easy to follow, to indulge in.
"Aye, lads, that one was House of The Rising Sun," Renhardt let the final notes from the last song fade into the air, carried on a breeze to the heavens. "Alas, my voice is beginning to strain don't'cha know, and I fear my time playing must come to an end, lest my fingers be ripped to shreds upon these strings."
There was a general uproar of sadness at the mere implication that their time around the fire, in the peace of music, was so fleeting. Avid himself longed to return to the calm a bit of music provided amidst the chaos of their general existence. Calm Avid so dearly missed, calm that seemed to chase the dark and the terror away.
"Well, if you're tired, I could maybe play some?" Avid's voice surprised even himself, as everyone's heads whipped to look at him. For once, not in a judging or pitying manner, like when he tried to convince them vampires were real - no, these looks were curious. Cautious.
"You know how to play?" Drift was smiling a bit, her eyes watching as Renhardt handed the guitar to Avid. Avid settled the instrument on his lap, the weight an oh so familiar comfort. His fingers skipped across strings, warming up with a couple flourishes.
"Yeah, uh… I picked it up when I was young," Unbidden, an old song came to mind, and Avid found his hand already plucking the familiar patterns of 6 and 3. "I'm not great, but my uh… m-my partner and I would sing, and play, to unwind."
"What song're you playing?" Owen had shifted on his own seat, leaning in closer. He was across the campire from Avid, eyes tracking every movement with interest. Avid felt his cheeks flush at the attention, not just from him, but from everyone.
"Uh, it's… it's called The Night We Met," Avid let his eyes close, settling more into the music. "I'm not much of a singer, but it's… it's one my partner loved."
It took only a second for the words to return to Avid's tongue. The scenery around him seemed to melt, the ground under him shifting from packed dirt to hardwood, the campire fading into something smaller, but still oh so warm.
"I am not the only traveller / who has not repaid his debt."
Avid's voice was quiet, much more soft and gentle than when he screamed warnings of the undead. However, the certainty was still there - a confidence that would never fade, never warble. He couldn't let it fade. If it wavered, then he had already failed her.
"I've been searching for a trail to follow."
Avid opened his eyes, the memories of singing to his partner meshing with the current memory of here and now. Looking up at the town of Oakhurst around the campfire, Avid could almost pretend she was just another face in the crowd. That she was still here.
"Take me back to The Night We Met."
It was almost magic, how everyone was so enraptured by a song. Avid watched them sway in time with the beat he had conjured, and managed a small smile.
"I had all and then most of you, some, and now none of you."
Someone had begun humming in harmony with Avid. He could faintly hear it, hear her, but it wasn't obvious who had joined in. Avid didn't need to know, anyways.
"Take me back to The Night We Met. I don't know what I'm s'posed to do, haunted by the ghost of you."
Avid fought tears back. No, he couldn't let himself break, not now. This was a moment of peace, of calm. Tears were for the middle of the night, when sleep was broken by memories of her hands wrapping around his throat, her fangs trying to pierce skin. This was the time to remember her, and not the monster she had become.
"Take me back… to The Night We Met."
The music faded into the night sky, joining the stars. Avid let his fingers still, the last notes humming into nothingness. He blinked, once, twice - no tears fell. Good. He's… he's fine, then.
"That was beautiful, Avid!" Drift's excitement cut through the silence, and the bubble popped. In an instant, everyone in the town was clamoring for more - did you write that? Do you write your own music? Can you sing more? Even Renhardt was joining in, clearly excited to have someone else who could play guitar among the group.
One member of town, however, remained quiet. Owen watched, contemplating - still enraptured by the music from before.
It had been so long since such beauty had caused him to pause. In this one moment, looking at Avid past flickering flames, Owen could almost see his Louis there - the instrument was different, the voice different as well; but the beauty, the heart, and the soul were the same.
Avid had been a pain in the vampire's side since day one… but this song was intoxicating. Owen needed to keep this music, this voice, his soul - Owen needed to keep him.
As Avid strummed a new melody, at the request of someone else at the fire, Owen knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Avid would be his. He would not let this reminder of Louis burn - he would preserve it for all of time.