//Author Note: All characters are over the age of 18. I had previously envisioned Christina as 16, and may not have fully edited that detail out of past chapters, but she's forced a retcon which will be taken seriously. So uh, no complaints please.

 

The warmth invades me, it presses out the cold, denying me the escape that I wished for by giving me something far more precious in its place. Syr’s touch, her warmth, calms the self-destructive panic that was consuming me and steadies my uneasy mind.

She grants me hope.

Her gaze is not anything like the many customers of this low establishment, though it still conveys the same hunger. Syr demands from me more than simple physical desires, she wants my affection and my love. It is my pleasure to give her as much as I have to give and more.

Her promise still warms the back of my mind.

Even if we must separate and her memories pulled from my mind, she will find me. As long as we both should live, she will find me. Unsatisfied with that alone, all that can do to amend the promise is to add to it my own part.

I will seek her, as well.

With my memories taken away, I’m sure that it would be a challenge. Indeed, it seems to be something entirely insurmountable… yet, the warmth that she’s shared with me, now nestled into my heart, makes it seem almost possible. If it is but a delusion of a passionate moment, then it is a delusion that I will gladly cling to.

I’m forced from my thoughts as Syr’s face swiftly fills my sight. She hits me hard, but the blood that pours from her mouth into mine proves that she understands me frightfully well. A fever takes my mind as I lust for the flavour that she spreads through my mouth. This is… new.

To think that I would be taught there are so many varieties of ‘sweet’. Her flavour this evening is that of cool clear water tasted for the first time after years spent without. It is less a thing to be desired, and more a necessity neglected since long, long ago. It would be impossible to refuse her kindness.

In my urgent need to drink more of her, I mistreat the kiss as something else, my movements are competing against hers and though I know little, it feels like something out of beat. As if I am playing an instrument out of tune, or dancing to the wrong song, I try to adjust but she withdraws before I have a chance to learn what it is that I’m doing wrong.

I stare into her eyes, with all intent to chide her for breaking this wonderful moment, but before I can even begin to affect the expression, I find myself caught by her amber eyes, shining the most precious gold in the artificial light. Her fingers trace the length of my jaw, gathering the water that drips from me.

I can’t explain how but it is most suggestive. Her actions stir at the warming depths of me, something I usually keep hidden but for some private moments with rather stimulating novels.

Breathing in the taste of her, my mind is seized by a terrible fever. Her sweat, new and old, is mixed with hints of bone and blood from her adventure. There are other scents that I can hardly describe at all, but it is all Syr. The scent of her rolls over my tongue, filling the hollows inside of me that bridge the distance between the air and my mind.

I… do hope that I’m not acting the part of a creep. I keep my expression steady, it would be terrible if Syr were to understand my thoughts right this moment. Especially as I take in the sight of her nude form. She’s making no attempt to hide herself from me, and her breathing only draws my eyes down to her chest where temptation lies within reach.

Syr says nothing, though I wouldn’t hear it even if she spoke.

She moves in closer to me, so close in fact, that she soon fills all my remaining senses. She is all I can see, all I can taste, smell, and feel. If I weren’t so greedy for more, I might otherwise be overwhelmed. Instead, I take everything and still want for more.

Her lips barely brush mine and I sink my teeth into her to keep her from escaping. My fangs do not draw blood, it is not what I want of her in this moment, even the traces from before aren’t as tempting as the natural taste of her. I read her expression, to be sure that I’m not acting beyond her acceptance, that I’m not pushing her further away by holding her so close.

Seeing only surprise, I hesitate, my jaws opening before I can think. I retreat, afraid that I may need to better limit my affections, but before I can even move more than an inch from her, she rejects my escape, ruthlessly chasing me down.

All my uncertainties are stolen away by her kiss, and deep in my chest, my heart starts to move. It is not yet revived, but it is more like a merchant dressing in his best clothes, or a soldier donning his armour.

Lowering my hand, which I had kept to her neck to support our more violent displays of amour, I bring it to her side as I consider the next step of our evening’s delights. Syr pulls her lips from mine, but she doesn’t retreat far, hovering near enough that it might well be considered a kiss itself. Is there such a name for a kiss such as this, where our lips are so close as to brush by each other over and over, constantly tempting me into something more?

I lean back to look upon her, and to see what I am to do with her.

Gently pressing my nail into her side, I slowly draw circles on her ticklish flesh, a threat, a warning, and a promise for what is to come. Tracing a careful, swirling line up to her chest, I take notice that she has made no effort to escape.

I slowly circle that which demands the most attention from me—red is ever a demanding colour, and such a fine pink is near enough to justify­—and I flick. It’s not quite what I intended. More a habit from my own, far more solitary experiences, but Syr does not seem unpleased, her face flushed, and her breath frozen.

I move to continue in a more subdued exercise, caressing and rubbing the same spot to ease her back into her seat. It is both strange and incredibly satisfying to be holding someone else in this way, and while our parts are much the same, there is something entirely more meaningful to this.

Continuing my assault, I fall upon her neck, pressing my lips on her and then raking my fangs along her skin. Instincts inside me almost demand that I press on and eat to my content, but it is with trivial ease that I set them aside.

It is satisfying in the most perverse way to ignore these vampiric urges.

This kiss is not for any practical purpose. It is not a meal, and it is not a hunt.

This is for the sake of passion, and that alone.

Syr’s skin rises into goosebumps as she shivers in my grasp, gasping for air.

This is her night, and she will be the one to remember it for us both. So I would make it so that she will never forget.

She reminds me of what it is to be alive.

Though we are still just building our affections into something more, if we could have just a year, or even a month, I know that our passions could build into a love deserving of any fine romance play or storybook. But it seems that we must separate.

The story of our romance, the story of our love, must wait for another day. Yet, in this moment, we may still write our own prologue. The promises that we make, might yet bring us together for that later story. Our passions made manifest, will be seeds set into the earth to one day bloom into a proper romance.

One that would never be ridiculed as some teenager’s passing crush which lasted but two days.

This will be the beginning of something greater, as she promised me. Even if our romance must wait for centuries to truly begin, we will pick up the story from where we leave it this night.

Temptation draws me out of my mind, and impatient to begin more properly, I crawl up from beside her and plant myself instead right into her lap.

She is more than eager to continue, but while she is the kind to act before thinking, I would rather prepare. If we are to continue, then there is something in the way.

Glaring at my hands, and my well-polished nails, I resign myself to the task that must be seen to. Resting my other hand on her shoulder, I slip my fingers into my mouth. There are many more, and far better, means of shortening my nails but they all come with the same unfortunate disadvantage.

They would waste our time.

Time we have precious little of.

Each moment we spend here together increases the risk of Aldramodore finding us. We are already wasting so much time here without any decent reason.

It is fortunate then that I am still amenable to indecent justifications. Thus, I may not let a moment pass which cannot be described as indecent.

Biting my nails is not a habit that I’m used to and trying to saw them away would be quite a terrible sight, I’m sure. Yet, in my excitement, I still take this matter a little too far.

I’ve managed to cleanly chomp off both my first and second fingers up to the second joint. I do not fully understand how I could have done this, but I will only justify myself with the excuse that my mind right now is afire with a terrible fever.

My healing, directed carefully, repairs the injury as if it were never done. Though it takes a certain extra measure of focus to ensure that my nails are not grown too long. It would be uncouth to make the same mistake again and end up swallowing more than just the two fingers.

It is an unpleasant ordeal but compared to the idea of spitting them up while Syr watches, I’m left with a rather easy decision. I choke them down keeping the smile on my lips.

If Syr doesn’t know, then neither of us will remember it.

In my rush to prove myself not a complete fool, I drool all over my fingers. It’s so bad that a trail connects my lips to the two digits. I’m sure that if I had the blood for it, my face would be glowing hotter than the sun.

Intent on erasing my embarrassment, I slide my hand down into the bubbling waters. Syr barely even reacts until I touch her, and even then she only presses her legs together as if to challenge me.

I rush to her, pressing my lips against hers as I lower my other hand to force her legs wide open. Her embarrassment is so incredibly cute, that I find myself humming in excitement just from seeing her like this.

With her legs forced open, I have room to sit, but as soon as I place myself down, I realize my mistake. I can’t find a position to sit.

Suppressing my embarrassment, I work to adjust myself before finally resting with my own open legs wrapping around her waist. It exposes me as much as it does her, but that is only fair.

Her soft butt warming my cold feet is only a pleasant extra to the deal.

To better hide my uncertainties, I decide to press onwards. It is always better to act imperfectly than to do nothing and wait for others to take the first move. While she’s still absorbing the sight of me, I trace lines along her inner thighs and then move closer still.

Syr’s eyes widen as I find my goal. Her back stiffens, her eyes flicker, and her teeth clatter together, it all combines into a reward greater than any I could ever hope to ask for. Yet I still want more from her.

She’s saying something, her lips fumbling to find words that I can’t quite understand, but from her expression, it doesn’t seem like she wants this to be over just yet. I explore her while reading her expression, finding what steals her breath, what makes her clench her teeth, and what makes her golden eyes melt. The sight of her fighting to retain her dignity, and failing, as her eyes demand for more truly warms my heart more than anything I’ve known.

I let out a little magic through my gaze, and she stiffens further, submitting to my touch. She quivers in my grip, her golden eyes swirling like a chalice in want to be filled, drawing me in. I feel like I could give all of myself to her, and she would still want for more of me.

I could fit all of my soul into the gaps in hers.

I lose myself in my obsession of her, no longer concerned with what I’m doing, letting her reactions lead me in the right direction.

I do not even give her a chance to breathe.

As I break from another kiss, a new spirit energises her. She falls into me, upset that I would move from her. She shudders, pulling me closer to her as she stares through me, the world itself invisible to her.

As she relaxes in my arms, I let her breathe again.

New sweat draws lines all over her, following her contours. I take in every variance that it brings to the sight of her. I print the image of her, in my mind as I breathe in the taste of her in the air.

I could paint her as a landscape, the streams running down the mountains and gathering in the valleys, the darkened forests far from the white mountains with their fiery peaks.

Her lips move, calling for me again, reaching her arms around me and holding me tight.

I could not want for a better beginning if only I could remember this in years to come. Our romance is to be long, but it must start with tragedy. Syr has promised to come for me and to save me in time, but until then, I will be without her.

This moment, which I will soon forget, is not for me at all, though I will still enjoy it. This is all for her.

I will leave such a mark on her, that she will not forget me. She will come to find me again, and when that time comes, I will see the mark that I’ve left upon her, and rediscover this moment once more. Syr will remind me of everything that I must forget.

“Was it to your liking?” I ask, knowing that I will not hear her reply. I’ve already heard her voice for the last time, but I know that she can reply in many more ways, and much more clearly without needing her voice.

Though I should have confidence in her, her hesitation still causes a pit to form in my stomach. I nearly lose myself to doubt before she nods, her expression still dazed.

I press my lips to hers again, just to erase that momentary doubt that I let settle in my heart. Her affections dispelling my momentary hesitation.

When the tides of our wanting pull us apart for a spell, Syr has regained her footing and looks toward me with determination. Her gaze sends a few butterflies stirring within my stomach, and before they’ve a chance to settle, she lowers her hands to grip my rear.

It is so coarse an action that I hadn’t ever expected it. She then heaves me up into her close embrace, removing us from the water’s protection. I can’t help but squeal in excitement. It is such a new experience to be carried like this, and the butterflies in my stomach flutter madly with excitement.

Syr bounces me up higher in her arms, and the movement rubs us together in a way that can only be described in words that no proper lady would dare speak. My hips start to move quite without my own will, thrusting myself on her as if I were some unruly pet, humping at its master’s leg.

She pulls me even closer, only further fuelling my troubles. I bite at my lip to try and regain some sense but when Syr looks up at me, knowing well what I’m doing and what I want, without rejecting me. I cannot find a reason to stop.

I sink into her warm golden eyes, her warm breath tickling my chest and only worsening my condition. Her kiss proves that my affections, even unruly as they are, are not unwelcome.

Syr looks away from me, over to the silken bed. I’m sure that her mind is still filled with thoughts of me, but still, it stings that she could even for a moment look away from me. Perhaps it is a childish instinct, but she’s been accepting of everything so far and I can hardly even pretend to be in control anymore.

As she steps out of the bath, her grip on me shifts to carefully balance herself, which is all fine until her fingers slip. She just barely brushes against some more delicate parts, already excited by our earlier affairs, but it’s enough to steal away control of my flesh. I shudder and writhe and pull us down to the ground.

Syr, acting a fine hero, twists about to ensure that I have a safe landing atop her.

I land, sitting on her belly with my chest against her face. I can hardly even think before I move, acting as if some wild animal in heat. I rub myself on her and hold her face up to my chest, her tickling breath spreading over me.

When she begins to move, I twist to the side and pull her atop me, still holding her close as can be.

Her resistance takes on a new form as her lips press against my chest. She kisses me over and over again without a moment’s reprieve.

Playing my fingers through her hair, I meet her eyes and she finally pauses.

“Just like a baby,” I say, enjoying the twist in her expression. The way she takes my taunt and treats it almost as a challenge.

Her kisses come faster, spreading to everything in her reach, but she doesn’t linger for even a moment to express her passion. It’s instead a full-on assault. Her touch, soft and fast overloads my senses, and she somehow finds a way to bring me down with a laughing fit through her efforts.

“Slower!” I shout, still laughing. “That just tickles. It’s not sexy at all!”

My shouts just fuel her continued assault, as she gives up any pretence and simply goes for my sides. Her fingers barely even touching me, summon lightning all over, and I can’t even control my body anymore. I can’t even defend myself from her assault.

I laugh like I’ve never laughed before. Half of it is just my body acting without me but much of it is genuine. I want to laugh. I want to have this moment of levity, where there is nothing of importance holding me down and no duties to crush me.

I can just laugh and be happy.

When I finally manage to kick myself free, I flee to bed.

Her golden gaze is still clinging to me, and rather than wanting to hide from her, I invite her attention. Sitting on the silken sheets, I wait for her to come for me. She wastes rather little time, hopping to my side like a nervous little rabbit.

I fall backward into the bed as she arrives, quickly sliding in beside me.

I simply lie here, absorbing her attention filled with unspent passions.

Though, I can barely manage that for even a moment before temptation moves me. It is almost a challenge to keep my hand from reaching for myself, so instead, I get Syr’s help.

Taking her hand in mine, I lower her to where she’s needed and use her fingers in place of my own.

Her nails are still a threat, but I will not complain if she is a little rough. I can heal any injury she causes.

This is her night, and I wish only for her to remember it most fondly. I will suffer anything for her to remember this fondly for all her life, as she’ll be the one to tell me this sweet story when we do again meet.

No longer am I needing to guide her hand as she takes the initiative to explore me at her own leisure.

Her kisses scatter over my top half as if to distract me from what she’s doing below, and her teeth sink into me. She’s gentle for a little while but every couple of moments she’ll freeze, and once she breaks out from it, she moves faster and she’s a little rougher with me.

Tears run down her cheeks, as she blinks them away.

She pauses to gaze into my eyes as she lifts her moist fingers to her mouth and snaps the nails off. Her fingers are bleeding, but she quickly rights that with her healing magic. It’s as if a tiger has bitten off its own claws to keep from hurting me.

She spits the nails aside and prowls over my body as if I am her prey.

All the while she shakes her rear before my eyes as if to display herself. Her chest hanging over me, as if to ask for my attention. She is cruelly trying to tempt me further, but before I have a chance to act on it, she’s taken me.

Her teeth sink into me, her passions no longer easily described with kisses, as she presses against me further down. Her hungry gaze shows only a hint of restraint as she hovers just shy of the next step.

More tears fall from her eyes as she freezes.

I have but a moment to anticipate before she presses into me.

She doesn’t hold back, rubbing at me, pushing into me, and biting me all at once. She’s breathing heavily, desperate to push me as hard as she can.

Her eyes trace over me, and as she realizes that I am accepting everything, she pushes me harder still. She is not gentle at all, ravaging me inside and out, her teeth sinking into me as she starts to leave marks. If I needed to breathe, then I don’t believe I would even find a chance for it.

It doesn’t take long for my heart to take its first beat. I shudder at the sudden motion, and Syr presses me even harder for it.

As my pounding heart spreads her fever through my body, I gradually lose myself to her overwhelming momentum. My whole body beats to a new rhythm, dictated by her affections.

I take her hand and hold it over my heart so that she can feel the beat that she’s instilled within me.

As the fires inside become too dense to contain, I let my voice out and grip her hand tighter, pulling her closer. A new conflagration burns through my very soul, as I focus everything on Syr.

White flames spread through my mind as the world is reduced to her touch, her rough fingers, her shuddering breath, her chest pressed against mine, and her breath washing over me. The marks that she’s left on me, once stinging with pain, become as pleasure in this state of fiery madness.

The fires burn bright, but for only a moment.

My heart slowly comes to rest once more, as the flames die away, only the sparks remaining to numb my skin and threaten to reignite all over again.

Syr leans over me, the tears still running down her eyes. The streams turn to rivers as she gazes over me, with a hint of regret. As if she is worried that her actions have gone too far. Worried that she’s ruined this moment.

I know that expression because I’ve felt the same before.

But her tears are something else.

Her eyes gaze past me, to see the dawn still drawing nearer. She’s scared of the morning and all that comes with it.

“Thank you,” I say, reaching up to catch her tears and pull her into a close embrace.

She is afraid of what the morning will steal from us both, which is why I must make this night one that she can remember fondly for the rest of her life. To ensure that she will remember it in my place and one day come back into my life to remind me.

When her tears dry, I embrace her once again. My passions ignited by the fear of morning, I do not let her rest for longer than it takes for her tears to fall.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Stepping out onto the street, I turn in place trying to remember where I am and how it is that I’ve gotten here.

I remember escaping the castle, and then…

“Aldramodore,” I grit my teeth. “I needed to escape him, and then I… I must have spent the night wandering around on the street? I found some different clothes to try and hide from him?”

I don’t know what possessed me to do such a thing, but then I haven’t been quite myself since I crossed paths with that villain. I’ve acted like an imbecile without even the most basic of sense.

Trying not to stare at the uncouth establishment that takes up half the street, I make haste to my estate. Even if it is to my doom, I cannot simply leave my staff to weather Aldramodore’s cruel whims. I will find a way to save them, even if I cannot save myself.

Thump.

I nearly fall as my chest pounds in the imitation of life. Tears cloud my eyes, and I have to rush to the side of the street to keep from being struck by a carriage.

Why is my undead heart suddenly beating?

Why do I feel like this isn’t the first time?

“Déjà vu?” I consider it aloud, but my voice is unusually weak.

Shaking off the thought, I continue on my journey. Though my chest is heavy, and I must wipe the tears dripping from my cheeks, I can’t help but feel as if, eventually, everything is going to be okay. As if my knight in shining armour is delayed, racing over distant mountains, weathering terrible storms, and crossing impassable oceans, but someday… someday my knight will find me.

 

//Author Note: I do hope that those last lines really prove the direction this is going. It is but a temporary parting. Painful, I know, but it will all eventually be for the best. Put your faith in them.