Angel

I hurry to do as he asks, struggling to keep quiet as I rummage around in my closet, then turn to face him, expectant. He listens for a moment, although I hear nothing, and then beckons to me. I walk over to the open window where he stands, suddenly nervous. He picks me up, kisses me fiercely, then puts me through the window, silently maneuvering me through then letting go so I land on my feet. I wobble, but don’t lose my balance; turning, I see he’s already there, picking me up silently and starting to run, faster than any human can go. I hide my face against his shirt, out of the wind he creates, and drink in his scent; relishing the feel of his arms around me.

We stop sooner than I had anticipated but, looking around I realize that we have left the suburbs far behind, and the city with it. Fang sets me down in a lawn of tall grasses that is in need of cutting and points to the small house in the middle of it. It’s rather worn looking and old.

“That is where I stay when I am near here. I know it’s not much but it’s warm and dry.” He takes me by the hand, twining our fingers, and leads me to the door. He reaches for the knob and it swings open silently. I wonder why it wasn’t locked, then realize that it probably was.

Fang doesn’t stop to let me take in my surroundings; as soon as we’re through the door he pulls me to him and into a passionate kiss, drowning me again in his scent, his black curls tumbling around me. He is very tall, I’m five-six and my feet raise a good foot and a half off the floor. He pulls away and, while I’m still recovering from the head rush that the lack of oxygen caused, picks me up, literally sweeping me off my feet and carries me up the stairs. He smiles down at me, and so suggestive is his grin that I start to untie the laces of his shirt, exposing part of his chest. Since he’s carrying me, that’s all I can do; so I content myself with laying my head on his shoulder and trace the swirling pattern of the tattoo that shows half its form where the shirt lays it bare. He goes faster. Smiling slightly, I trail my fingers down his chest and he picks up more speed. I slowly lean in, keeping my hand on his abdomen, and kiss him on the neck. He takes the stairs two at a time, kicking open the door and breathing heavily for the first time all night.

I lean up and he kisses me, hard and passionate, leaning into it. He slowly walks forward and lays me on the bed that dominates the room. Fang is suddenly looming over me on the bed, his eyes inscrutable through the red glow. He slowly leans down kissing me gently as he, just as gently, pulls the old shirt I wear to bed over my head. I reach down, sliding my hands up his torso as I divest him of his shirt. I can hear him fumbling with the button of his pants in the darkness, then he stops, kicks off his shoes, and lies down beside me. His eyes smolder as he looks at me and I can sense that he is impatient; I wonder what could be stopping him and reach out, but he stops me.

“You’ve, never done this before, have you?” I feel my cheeks heat up, embarrassed. I shake my head and see his teeth glint in the darkness as he smiles. He strokes my hair, “we’ll just have to go slow then.”

He leans in to kiss me, pulling me close. Gently, he rolls so I am lying on my back; then it happens, so utterly unlike anything I was expecting that I gasp slightly, and clutch Fang’s shoulders. He stiffens, thinking he’s hurt me, then relaxes again kissing me on the neck. I’m so caught up in everything that I don’t notice when his fangs break the skin; but I notice when he starts to suck my blood. It isn’t really painful, but I’m uneasy and push him slightly and he stops; raising his head to look at me, a dazed expression on his face. There is blood on his lip.

“Don’t you want to be together with me forever?” he seems hurt, and I nod quickly ashamed of myself. “This is the only way that can happen, you must become like me.” He leans back down, covering the wounds on my neck with his warm lips and pulling my hot blood into his mouth.

I clutch at his shoulders, feeling the muscles ripple under his smooth taunt skin and press myself against his hot marble torso.

When it is over we lie side by side on the rumpled bed panting for breath. My mouth is dry and my throat is parched, I feel almost drained, spent and exhausted. I start to shake, tremors wracking my frame, most likely from loss of blood. Fang looks at me concerned, then reaches over me to grab something off a small table. It’s a pocket knife and as I watch, he makes a small cut on his arm; dark blood wells up from the incision. He helps me sit up and sticks his arm under my nose; weakly I shake my head.

“Go on, before it closes up again.” I shake my head again. “This is important,” He growls, impatient, suddenly I’m frightened. “Do you want to die from shock or loss of blood?” I shake my head, resigned now, “then drink.” I look down, the wound has closed up again, but before I can think another cut appears and I lower my head, pressing my mouth against his flawless skin, and drink.