"It's-" Saint involuntarily leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Why am I suddenly weak? He could've avoided her hand or moved away, but he looked into her eyes. Hypnotized by the ocean waves brushing against his skin, he was swept and submerged under the current. He thought he countered his little mind tricks, but he tricked himself as he already fell into her depths. His makeshift barrier was destroyed, broken, scattered as debris on a void shore against a force larger than his entity.
"You are foolish. I won't- I'll be going against my word." Saint whispered. Attempting to make a last-ditch effort, he raised his hand to remove her touch, but he traced her the slope of her neck. Remembering how human she was but her eyes didn't change. She was just as intense and strong-willed with a similar light. He counted the small freckles on her face. He pressed gently on the bite and skated down to her shoulder. A birthmark? He scrunched his brow, drawing what he imagined to be behind the shirt strap. Her skin was cold yet warmer than his own, searing the corners of his fingers. He forced his hand to his hip. "You don't know anything. We're strangers. We can't do this."
A part of her was glad he hadn't pulled away. It meant something, didn't it? Her breathing was calm now, feeling his feather light touch slide along her neck. Maybe she was a masochist, but when he touched her bite wound she wanted to feel his mouth there again. Hungry for her, desperate.
As his hand moved down to her shoulder she shuddered. Somehow that invisible force subsided, yet was stronger at the same time, screaming to be heard.
We can't do this. Mira let her hand fall to her side, a smile that didn't reach her eyes on her face. "Okay. That's all I needed to hear." She stepped back, the space spreading between them feeling like tearing at flesh. "Mind if I watch TV?" Without waiting for an answer she tore herself to the living room, flicking the TV on and sitting on the couch.
"Go ahead." He waved his hand out to the flat screen mounted on the wall. That was easy. Saint pursed his lips, trying not to read her expression just now. The loss in proximity amounted to worse pain than Gabriel's dagger, and he held back flinching to how excruciating it would be to sever the link between them. Saint dropped his glance to the sink, skimming his palm on the water. As he ran the faucet to replace the lukewarm bath for the blood, he dried and put away the glass.
"The bag will be ready in a few minutes, so you can eat." Saint patted his hands on his pants before he disappeared from the kitchen to his office. Leaning against the closed door, he dragged his hand on his beard. He picked up the silver chain on his desk, tinkering with the scuffed clasp. Okay... Why do I feel shittier? I'm already dead, but I'm dying inside. Saint returned to the living room and sat next to Mira, preserving a healthy distance. "You can have your bracelet back. You need it."
He moved closer to fasten the bracelet on her wrist. He turned over the dangling trinket. Inside, an opaque blue stone matched the one in the face of his ring. "I messed it up a bit trying to attach the stone, but it's sturdy. You should be able to walk in daylight with this."
Mira sat on the couch with her legs pulled up, arms wrapped around them. There was some show with strange animals she had never seen before on the screen. Although her gaze was fixed on the TV her mind was elsewhere. You're an idiot! Why would you do that? Again and again she chastised herself in her mind. She couldn't hold anything against Saint and maybe he was right. They didn't know each other and maybe it was just some 'thing'.
Didn't mean it didn't sting any less as rejection often did. It wasn't her first dance with rejection. Although she had never been close to anyone, as in actually close, she had short lived partners over the years. Other lost souls just trying to fill the loneliness and void of their sad existence.
Mira didn't look at Saint when he sat on the couch, still pretending to concentrate on the flat screen. He offered her bracelet back and with a sigh she was going to protest. To just tell him he could keep it, it was what he wanted all along, but he caught her wrist before she could shove it away and snapped the metal into place. Her eyes focused on the blue stone, brow furrowing. "Daylight?" She was confused.
Mira brought her wrist back, turning over the bracelet, the blue stone was beautiful. "You can walk in the daylight?" She was confused, but also mystified by the thought. "Wh-why are you giving this to me?" She looked at him now, brows still knit together.
"Yes, but I haven't been in direct sunlight for two weeks." Saint caressed his ring with the pad of his thumb as he drifted to the TV remote. The cartoon filled his mind with ample background noise. He passed the controller in his hands, lacking faith in his capacity to be alone with his thoughts. Dropping the remote, he met her eyes for a split second before he kept his gaze down. Her bracelet shone in reaction to the stones being close by. "We can't go out to the warehouse at night. There are too many people, and Scarface will be hanging around. He doesn't need to know you've turned. So we'll go in the day to avoid that possibility, and you need your bracelet to do that." His lip quirked slightly as he took the gold ring off his finger. "Lapis stones are enchanted family heirlooms passed down to generations, and they are very powerful. This ring was once my father's and the man before him."
"This- yours was also passed down to me, but it partially lost its power. It's only because of your bracelet the stone was revived." Saint touched her stone lightly and placed his ring back on his hand.
"Don't think too much about it. It'll give you protection. Are you ready to eat?"
"That's some secret." Her finger caressed the blue stone. It truly was beautiful. "Do other vampires have something like this? And wait, is this why you wanted my bracelet? To make more daylight jewelry?" She kept her eyes focused on the stone and metal. She felt unworthy. "If it was meant for someone else, you don't have to give it to me. You've done a lot for me already with nothing in return." She sighed, wrapping her arms around her legs again, focusing shifting to the tv. "I'll give it back after all this, or you know, you can take it off my dead body." She hadn't meant to, but a chuckle slipped out. After a moment of silence she spoke again. "It should stay in your family. I'll give it back in the end."
Saying those words made her chest feel tight. She wasn't invincible now that she was a vamp. Just harder to kill. At the mention of eating, that familiar feeling from before rose to the fore front of her brain and stomach. "I could eat." She said softly, eyes still turned away.
Saint pushed on the top of his knees, going to the kitchen and checking on the blood's temperature. Warm, he drained the sink and carefully handled the blood bag. "You don't need to do anything for me. I drank your blood. That's more than enough." Settling on the couch, Saint angled his body towards her and knicked the front of the pouch. He guided her hands to hold the bag, adjusting the placement of her fingers. Sounds from the TV lulled, and the persistent cadence riveted between them. His tongue ran over his lip, his mouth went dry as he struggled to concentrate. His hands hovered over hers to act quickly if there was a spill. "Ahem, use your hand near the bottom to push the blood up and control the flow with your other hand. It'll make less mess."
Mira's attention was drawn from the tv, his hands on hers. Her eyes flickered from the bag to those oasis, but only for a moment. She swallowed hard, only responding with a nod. The thought of spilling the blood on the light colored couch made her nervous. Gingerly she brought the bag to her lips, trying to remember the tips he had given her.
As the warm liquid filled her mouth her eyes fluttered closed. She drank slow and deep, the warmth spreading throughout her body. She finishes the bag with a sigh, the only spill being a dribble that fell from the corner of her mouth. She sat still, the hum of the tv seeming distant, eyes still closed.
Saint watched intently, his hands twitched each time she swallowed. I don’t know how to remove blood stains from a couch... His eyes drank in the way her body tensed up, eyes closed, her mouth sealed on the blood bag. He held his breath as Mira finished the bag. Deep in his soul, her languid inhales and wafted blood stirred his primal instinct, coaxing him closer. The blood smelled delectable on her skin. She’s...
“Why... This thing I don’t want you to ruin your chances at a new beginning. Being involved with me already has its own of secrets, ones that make you a bigger target for Callen.” He spoke truthfully as he managed to reign in the larger acting force. However, blindsided in an instant, his thoughts departed, and he glanced at her tinted lips. Red streaking his thumb.
Mira heard Saint speak, but it sounded distant and muffled. Her mind was swirling, intoxicated with the blood in the best kind of way. She felt guilty for enjoying it so much, but only a smidge. However, her reveling was cut short, eyes flying open and locking with his as Saint's thumb wiped the blood near her lips.
Instinctually her head turned, taking his thumb in her mouth, tongue licking the pad before flinching away. "I-I-" Wide eyed, she tried to scooch away, but the arm of the couch was already at her back. "I didn't mean to-" She held her hands up, palms towards him (blood bag still in one hand) as the apology flopped between them. Is he mad?
Mira was at a loss for what to say. It just happened. It was as if she couldn't help herself. How were they supposed to stay alone together until her bite healed? It had only been a day and they spent it struggling with restraint and control. Even though Saint was adamant about their courting being unwise, she had taken note that he had never said he didn't feel it too. And if anything had solidified that for her, it was the moment his thumb touched her skin.
Heat enveloped his thumb. The brief burst of warmth spread from the single point throughout his body as if he lounged in the sun. Binding his limbs with the forbidden light, Saint couldn't hide in the shadows, but he couldn't leave either. The somber claws of darkness pierced into his back as a red river streamed down and split over his scarred skin. With hooded eyes, Saint observed the faint sheen on his thumb, the blood bag, and her body language. ...
"Don't." Releasing a ragged breath, the syllable swayed on his tongue. He rose slightly and took the bag out of her hand. The light beckoned him forward, slowly freeing the vamp from his restraints. Whatever Mira was going to say would bring him to his senses, and his body was only thinking of touching her. Craving the physical contact to sate the writhing tension. Her lips around his thumb. Her lips pressed against his. He brushed his hand against her cheek and lingered by her jaw. Saint tilted his face into the side of her neck.
His fangs scraped over her bite. This was the source of the light, his sun. A divine essence flowed from within Mira, calling out to him as his body desired for the same. However, he pulled away. The sun dwindled to a twinkling dot. Chasing the sun, his fingertips barely grasped the fleeing light, stretched far and thin.
”Your neck is healing well. It’s shrinking, so it’ll clear up the day after tomorrow.” The mark would no longer be there, but Saint would always see where he bit her, constantly enticing him to dive over the sacred edge. He picked up the empty bag from the floor, ignoring the blood specked on the rug.
”Maybe you should stay in your room for the time being. We’ll go mad if we’re constantly around each other.”
Last Edit: Mar 30, 2021 8:04:38 GMT by xBlackxAcex
Mira chewed the inside of her lip as he took the empty blood bag from her hand, arms slowly falling to her lap. She was only focused on him, eyes wide as he drew near. Frozen in her spot, she felt his hand caress her cheek and skate down to her jaw. It took every fiber of her being not to turn and kiss that hand. To her suprise his face came to her neck, fangs scraping across flesh. She took in a ragged breath as she closed her eyes, head leaning away as if asking him to bite her. His breath snaked around her neck and down her collar bone, the excitment rising. Her hands clenched into fists, resisting the urge to grab hold of him and pull him close. The shields she had built her whole life came down and she would have given anything to let Saint consume her, body and soul.
And then it was over. Mira's eyes fluttered open, the confusion clear on her face. She couldn't form words, at least nothing that would have been nice. She clenched her jaw, feeling stupid. Without a word and within an instant she left the living room to the confines of her room, door closing with a gentle click. Pacing the room, she wanted to scream. Something clawed at her insides, fighting to get out and it would not show mercy.
Mira's breathes turned shallow and almost panicked. She rushed to the ensuite bathroom and turned on the shower. The sound of rushing water filled her ears and began to clear the din and chaos of whatever was trying to escape. Stepping in with her clothes on, she stood with the stream directly over her head, hands against the wall in front of her. Why do I...feel like this?
After half an hour she finally shut the water off, peeling her soggy clothes off and dressing in a tshirt. Mira felt calmer now, but the sting of the anticlimatic ending still hung over her. She knew he thought her foolish, perhaps even a stupid girl. She flopped on her bed, burying herself in the covers. Even if he hadn't suggested she stay in her room, the embarassment was enough to keep her away.
. . .
Two days passed and Mira had stayed in her room as requested. She spent her time sleeping, trying to sleep, or pacing. When the night finally came and she looked in the mirror she saw her bite was gone, smooth flesh replacing the puncture wounds. Her finger ran over the spot, a frown on her lips. Her hands quickly put her hair into a single, long braid and then adjusted the navy blue sweater she wore. Her things were neatly packed back into her duffle bag and she stood at the door to her room, hand hovering over the knob. Licking her lips she hesitated. She could feel Saint in the apartment and she knew she would have to see him.
This whole time she had wanted to see him. Had craved it. But now that she could, she wasn't sure she wanted to. Her forehead leaned on the wood, squeazing her eyes shut. Don't think about it. Learn from him and leave. Then you'll never have to see him again. Steeling herself she turned the knob and walked to the living room. Each hand held an elbow as she looked around, trying to contain her awkwardness.
Setting the glass of water next to the bowl of stirfry, a blood bag, and two pills, Saint dried his hands on a dishtowel as he occupied his thoughts. A crafted serving tray was nearby.Her bite should be healed by now, then we can start and get this over with. The two days allotted him space to cleanse his mind and wean from the supernatural force. Ensuring the bite would heal as soon as possible, he put warm blood outside for her, but he found himself idling outside of her door constantly. To feel her presence through the solid wood and catch a glimpse of her. Lusted after her, for the rush of euphoria to fill his veins whenever she was near. Or when he bit and drank from her; the vamp salivated at the reminder. Pushing down the inherent desire, Saint confined himself as well, in his office to curb the pull. His efforts were honorable, but he caught a dagger to his throat. Literally. Yearning, he sought a method to replicate the euphoria he experienced. The enchanted knife delicately pressed against his neck evoked a fraction of bliss, but without blood, the sensation fleeted. His eyes flicked to the closed door, sensing her body closer than he did in the last two days.
The security system was disarmed as he laced his boots and put on a jean jacket over his black tee. It's a little easier to have some control now.
Bracing himself, Saint spoke first. "We have some time before daylight, so after you finish eating, we'll head out. We're almost out of blood."
Mira spared him a glance, opening her mouth to say something, but then deciding otherwise. Wordlessly she sat at the bar like the first night she had come to Saint's apartment, inspecting the food in front of her. She quickly tossed the pill in her mouth and drank the water to wash it down and then started on the stir fry. It was good. Really good. She was impressed with Saint's cooking skills once again, but perhaps eating from cold cans most of her life didn't provide a fair comparison. Anything warm and seasoned was going to taste amazing.
She finished the meal with a sigh, wiping her lips with a napkin, her eyes flickering to the blood bag. As good as food tasted, blood seemed to call her name like a lover, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. If she didn't crave it so much she'd think it sick, disgusting even. Mira's hands held the warm bag, carefully clipping the top and drinking slowly like Saint had taught her.
A sense of relief washed over her as the blood slid down her throat and it only made her wonder how human blood compared. She finished with a longer sigh than when she had finished the food, licking her lips, and double checking she hadn't spilled with the napkin. "Th-" Her voice cracked from days without speaking. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Thank you. It was good." Her mouth shrugged in an atempt at a smile, grabing her plate and taking it to the sink. Quietly she washed the dish and her glass, hating how awkward she felt around him now.
Mira slid on her leather jacket, sitting near the door to put on her black boots. Standing, she adjusted her braid to the front. "Guess we can go then." She had avoided looking at him, but spared him another glance which she regretted instantly. She felt the pull to him and the sting of stupidity she had felt the last time they were together. Quickly she stepped away and opened the door, walking out into the hall, eager to get away before she made another mistake.
Feigning disinterest, the mind trick gradually lost effectiveness, and the several strides between them weren’t enough distance to hinder the pull. There had to be a barrier, a physical obstacle like a door to curb the attraction, and he couldn't see her. In the open space, he was unable to lower his gaze, and with the slightest attempt to turn away, his eyes returned to her in a matter of seconds. Anxiety festered, overloading his mind to take in as much of her presence before she was out of sight again. He thought to say something, but he was rendered speechless as he was warped back to the ocean in her eyes. Beach waves crashed against his jeans, and he was dragged down by the saltwater. He needed to get a hold of himself. “Sure,” Saint patted his pockets down. “Um, I need to get some cash first. I’ll meet you by the elevator.”
In the kitchen, he took money from the back of the cabinet. He looked over at the pill bottle. I don’t think it’s gotten easier. It’s even more intense, and I’m no match to hold my own ground. He dumped the tablets into his palm, swallowing a handful with a glass of water. Tilting his head back, the drugs coursed through his bloodstream, numbing his senses. A large iron door slammed down at the forefront of his mind, and all interference reduced to a faint buzzing. The pull is gone. Depositing the remaining pills in a napkin, he slipped it into his jacket pocket.
After Saint pressed the button for the lobby floor, he rolled his neck and shoulders. He was on a cloud, at ease that he didn't need to block out the connection. "We'll restock on supplies when it gets dark again. But the city's turning in, so we don't have to worry about being discovered."