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Post by Corban Anastasius on Mar 21, 2006 16:48:41 GMT -5
He watched her go, frowning to himself, saddened but telling himself it was for the best that he and her had some distance for at least a short time. He pulled the hood of his hoodie up over his face, hesitated, then sighed and wandered out the door, closing it with an unintentional loud slam of frustration. Irritated with his own emotions. He wandered out into the graveyard, deciding to sit by a grave somewhere, shut his eyes and think...And try to work things out and convince himself he was doing no wrong.
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Post by Minerva Balzac on Mar 21, 2006 16:56:48 GMT -5
Minerva's head jerked toward the sound of the front door being slammed shut, tears appearing in her eyes. She wanted to stand and run after him, beg him not to leave her, but found herself once more paralyzed to the whims of her heart. She glanced briefly at the clock, her fears calming slightly when she saw the sun wouldn't rise for another two and a half hours.
She knew that spending so much constant time with him was unhealthy, that she needed some time alone, but she did want to be alone, wanting to be with him and only him. She turned back to the kitten, scratching it's head gently once more.
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Post by Corban Anastasius on Mar 21, 2006 18:23:07 GMT -5
He didn't walk too far, he remained in sight of the little graveyard house, and when he sat upon a crumbling tomb he sat facing the house, gazing at it watchfully, like a stone gargoyle over the entrance of a cathedral or a marble angel over its small altar. His eyes were glazed over in that familiar look that suggested deep contemplation, eyebrows furrowed over his dark eyes. He thought back to his early days as a vampire, to the time spent with his Sire, and he thought of how for two-hundred years he'd wanted nothing more than to be with his Sire again. The thought of moving on was more painful than the thought of staying obsessed and lonely for the rest of eternity...He'd never really let go, he'd never found reason to, he'd lived in far-away, untoucheable memories, skulking from dusty corner to dusty corner, distracted by every flickering flame and dancing shadow for hours on end, painting and writing his feelings away.
He sighed now, and hid his face in his hands. It should be easier than this and he knew it. Anyone else would have no trouble cutting off the strings of past and obsession. Maybe it was because he hadn't given up on finding him again...He didn't know. What he did know was that in that small house was a woman he loved, and he'd stormed out with no explanation and no goodbye. Standing, he dusted himself off and made his way back to the house. He'd just say a quick hello and goodbye, then head back to his apartment.
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Post by Minerva Balzac on Mar 21, 2006 18:32:29 GMT -5
She still sat in her room, finding the lower half on her body still paralyzed by to the whims of her heart. She watched the little kitten sleep, scratching it head ever so gently so as not to wake it. It. She figured it needed a name. Gently, she lifted the little thing into her hand, awaking it from it's slumber. It yawned, giving a startled little meow as it was rolled over on its back. "A little girl with a crescent-shaped white spot under your chin. How does Crescent sound to you? That a good name?" she asked it, rubbing it's stomach gently. Her tears still roled slowly down her cheeks for Corban had left without so much as a good bye.
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Post by Corban Anastasius on Mar 21, 2006 18:39:08 GMT -5
He reached the house in minutes and slipped stealthily into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He strode into the bedroom and leant against the entrance, his hands finding a place in his pockets as he gazed at Vira, seeing the tears. He didn't go to comfort her though, afraid that out of some sort of anger she'd push him away, reject him. So he only stood, completely voiceless for a few minutes before he chose to speak.
"I'm sorry...I only went to get some fresh air."
Again, silence...And the silence was defeaning, so soon he spoke again.
"I'll be going to my apartment in a while...Come see me tomorrow?"
He'd been planning on coming to see her, but after a short time of thought he'd decided against it. How did he know she even wanted to see him tomorrow night? This way he gave her the choice.
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Post by Minerva Balzac on Mar 21, 2006 19:48:49 GMT -5
She hadn't noticed he was there until his words reached her ears, causing her to jump slightly. She looked at him with saddened eyes that seemed to beg for him to hold her. She said nothing, though to his first comment, her tears still falling. She wanted to stand and run to him, wrap her arms around him and never let go, but she still found she couldn't stand.
When he said he was going to go, her heart felt like it had been shattered. She didn't want him to go, but knew they needed some time appart. Before she could stop herself, she choked out, "Don't go..." Her voice barely audiable and almost pleading. As soon as she'd said it she wished she hadn't. She didn't want to force him to stay. If he wanted to go there was nothing she would be able to do to stop him.
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Post by Corban Anastasius on Mar 21, 2006 20:02:45 GMT -5
He wanted to ignore her muttered request and simply leave, but found he could not. It was that power of sorts she had over him, she asked and he obeyed, even against his own will, it wasn't something he could help. But he yearned for the dusty old apartment, with it's warm candle-light and stacks of books, to lay in his bed and stare at paintings while the murmur of human whispers and life ran on around him. Or for the mere joy of being alone in his room and painting, as the solutions to all problems seemed to strike him while in that trance of creativity where nothing existed but the colour on the canvas, to lay in the confines of his coffin instead of laying in a bed... But to turn away from Vira for such simple, medial pleasures was, through his eyes, selfish and foolish. He wanted her and only her.
And then he became aware of something else he yearned for. He remembered the intimacy and euphoria of the earlier bite, the closeness, the perfection. He wanted to feel that again, to be close to her if not for anything else. Would she allow him to do so again? It was hard for him to tell. His common sense told him to turn away, forget it, go home and come back tomorrow night. But as always common sense was drowned out, decadence always prevailed, even as a vampire Corban still found himself ignoring logic so he could indulge in whatever little requests his heart made.
Before he could stop himself he'd sat next to her and kissed her upon the lips, then began to kiss her tears away from her face lovingly, carressing her face and neck with his fingertips sweetly. Soon his lips were upon her throat, leaving soft kisses, they began feather-light and almost innocent, slowly progressing to longer kisses, and eventually little nips against her skin with his fangs.
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Post by Minerva Balzac on Mar 21, 2006 20:17:46 GMT -5
She felt a rush of relief and gratefulness as he sat down beside her, welcoming the feel of his lips against her own. A small smile came acrossed her face as he kissed the tears, and though more still ran down her cheeks, they had turned into tears of joy, not sorrow. She wrapped an arm loosely around his waist as she could once more feel his lips pressing against her neck, the nips of his fangs causing her to giggle.
She had a slight notion he wanted once again for her blood to spill into his mouth, and she found herself almost wishing he would, not caring how weak she would feel if he did. She almost yearned for the feel of his fangs in her neck once more, sending the sharp, wonderful pain through her body once more.
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Post by Corban Anastasius on Mar 21, 2006 20:33:02 GMT -5
It was a feeling very close to suspense, taking his time as to not alarm her, his biting becoming steadily harder and deeper, leaving small marks that had yet to puncture her flesh. Still there was the problem of whether or not she'd even allow him to bite her again, which was his current thought. He hoped desperately she would, just to be close to her in that bond that between a mortal and himself would mean death, to feel such pleasure with no guilt or self hate involved, to feel her love for him as if in her very blood. His nerves had caused his breathing to quicken slightly by now, his cold breath playing against her neck as he continued the eager little bites and tender kisses.
He pushed her forcefully but gently onto her back on the bed and leant over her. He pulled a few strands of hair carefuly away from her neck, then pressed his fangs into the skin, to the point where they were very close to plunging into the flesh and causing a steady blood flow. He hesitated, awaiting a reaction, prepared to pull away or bracing to be pushed from her, if there were no protests from her his fangs would break through the flesh.
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Post by Minerva Balzac on Mar 21, 2006 20:47:00 GMT -5
Her giggling his cessed now, replaced by excited intakes of air whenever his fangs nipped against her skin. Her tears- both joy and sorrow -hand now come to a hault. She gave a soft moan as if to urge him on as he pushed her back on he bed. She was becoming more eager for his fangs to once again break her flesh as he pulled away the hair. As he sunk his fangs into her skin without puncturing the skin, she slowly moved her arms around his back, holding him to her, refusing to let go, her nails digging slightly into his hoodie. She knew if she moved, his fangs would press just that little bit more they needed to be pressed, and though she was tempted, she held back, waiting for him to sink them in on his own. She gave another encouraging moan, the suspence almost killing her. 'Do it...' she thought, as if begging him to press in just that little bit farther.
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Post by Corban Anastasius on Mar 21, 2006 21:00:25 GMT -5
He didn't hesitate any longer, in any other situation he would tease and taunt, but he was in no playful mood and the suspense, or whatever it could be described as, was tormenting him. He felt her nails dig into his hoody, and just as they did he pushed his fangs just that tad bit deeper, the skin, like earlier, splitting under the pressure, the blood flooding into his mouth and trickling down his throat.
He gripped her tightly in his arms as he sat up, pulling her up with him, not once breaking his hold on her neck, his eyes tightly shut as he felt that recogniseable ecstacy all over, obliterating any pain or anxiety that had been in him only seconds before. It hadn't lasted long last time and he was determined to carry it out for as long as he could without causing any severe pain to Vira. He loved this intimacy...This that he had only shared with the mortals that he killed on the streets every few days, sometimes weeks. He'd never thought he could bring himself to indulge in it, then again he'd never thought he'd fall in love again.
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Post by Minerva Balzac on Mar 21, 2006 21:15:31 GMT -5
She took in a sharp gasp of air as his fangs sunk into her flesh, a small smile coming over her face as she exhalled slowly before breathing in deeply and quickly once more. She could feel the blood draining from her body, her veins seeming to cry out for more blood to be given to them. She needed more blood, but she didn't want him to stop. For him to stop would be the last thing she ever wanted. As the blood continued to drain from her body, the cry of her veins for more became to intense. "Don't..... stop....." she said, her voice but a whisper. Without a seconed though, she turned her head just that little bit more, so she could reach his neck. She didn't want to do it, afraid it would ruin the intense intimacy that was shared when he bit her, but if he drank any more without her replenishing herself, she'd soon find her self unconscious in his arms.
She leaned forward slowly and steadilly so his fangs wouldn't tear through her skin as she did so, gently closing her mouth on his neck, giving a few testing, warning nips, each increasingly harder, before finally breaking his skin, his blood flooding her mouth. She took a few big, quick drinks before slowing, hoping more than anything that he wouldn't release her neck from his mouth.
( Well, that's certainly a new twist, isn't it? )
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Post by Corban Anastasius on Mar 21, 2006 21:33:42 GMT -5
Before long his instincts had screamed at him to pull away, knowing that if he drank much more she'd faint, he'd been about to reluctantly withdraw his fangs from her neck when he heard her whisper, and though he knew he had to stop then and there, more for her sake than his own, he couldn't bring himself to. He still had yet to find a way around the strange power she had over him, and the last thing he wanted was to pull away and break the bond, these two things combined succeeded in bringing him to completely ignore his own warnings.
He shuddered in surprise the mildest bit as she bit at his neck, knowing instantly what she meant to do. He didn't object to it, she needed to replenish herself, and anything that allowed him to keep his fangs in her neck was fine by him, even if it was only for a little bit longer, he wasn't ready to break away from this state of euphoria just yet.
When she did bite into his neck the pain took him by surprise and he made a small, sudden movement as if to pull his neck away, but this was merely a reflex and would easily be identified as one, it caused the puncture wounds in her flesh from his fangs to tear wider as his fangs jolted to the side, almost immediatly he relaxed again. He began to feel light-headed from it; having his blood drained and at the same moment draining her blood, perfectly blissfull, he wouldn't break away just yet. But sitting up was becoming much of a chore, shifting his position he leant back, half laying on the bed, half leaning on the wall, his grip still tight around Vira though it was clear his fangs would soon be withdrawing, the sensation reaching a point where it would become unbearable for him to continue much longer.
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Post by Minerva Balzac on Mar 21, 2006 21:51:02 GMT -5
The pain in her neck as her skin tore even more was almost unbearble, and she almost forced herself to pull away from him, though it soon faded back into the perfection they had once more achieved. She was gratefull as he leaned back, her body weak from the lack of blood.
She felt his fangs loosen ever so slightly, knowing he would soon release her neck from his bite. She tightened her arms around him, some of the first words she'd ever spoken to him echoing through her mind. 'I can't exactly feed off of somebody who's already dead, can I? She had to force herself not to smile, and this became even harder as his reply sounded through her head. 'You could. But I might not be very appetizing.' How wrong he had been.
She didn't know know if it was simply her love for him that made his blood so sweet or wonderful, but his blood filled her with such an overwhelming warmth and fullness that she had never experienced. It had always been said that a slayer's blood was the sweetest blood of all, and for quite some time she had believed this. This was, however, quite wrong for the blood of a lover was even sweeter.
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Post by Corban Anastasius on Mar 22, 2006 18:18:58 GMT -5
Unable to continue, he finally withdrew his fangs, his eyes only half open and only for a moment, his exhaustion quickly causing them to close again, the taste of her blood still lingering in his mouth even as the fiery red liquid was being rapidly taken back from him. He placed a hand on the back of Vira's neck, urging her to continue drinking from him, he wanted to fall into unconciousness in this state of pleasure but knew he would not. He was too used to being deprived of blood, hence he no longer passed out at the lack of it, only felt very weakened. He cursed himself for this now, not wanting to return to reality just yet, he only wished to remain with her in this state where he felt nothing but love and pleasure, all other emotions quickly dissolving, he was numb to them.
He tightened his grip on her despite his light-headedness and ran his fingers through her hair, touching her face and neck with cold fingertips that grew ever colder as she drunk from him. He felt as if the moment she let go he'd simply die, the shock of being brought back into reality would be too horrid for his timid mind to withstand, but again he knew this was only delirious thought caused by the reluctance to return to conciousness.
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