Stolen Property

Chapter Two

He woke up shivering, his face pressed to cold brick. Damned vampires and their freezing bloody dungeons.

“Why couldn't you set up shop in a sauna?” He questioned, annoyed. The cloaked figure in the corner gasped, shocked that they had been noticed no doubt, and emerged from the shadow into the slightly less dark shadow.

“Because I don't feel the cold, and I rather prefer stone to wood.”

“Ah. Now that you’ve answered that question, may I ask you another?”

“I suppose.”

“Why the hell am I still alive?” Aydin spoke, sounding way more calm than any sane person should while asking that question.

“You're new, and rather attractive. Everyone else in that dreaded town looks like the back end of a farmers horse.” The beast answered, moving closer to the annoyingly unfazed stranger.

“..Uh huh. Well, any questions for me?”

“Why are you here? Why were you armed? Does this cloak make me look fat?” The creature, who Aydin now realized was male, asked, “oh, and what is your name?”

“Vampire hunter. Vampire hunter. It certainly adds volume to your figure. Aydin Marsh.”

“Ah, that makes sense. And thank you, I can't tell with the whole ‘no reflection’ thing. I've been all skin and bones since I transformed and can't seem to regain weight. Oh, my name's Sharpe, by the way. Damon Sharpe.”

“That name is a bit on the nose, don't you think?” Aydin asked as snidely as he could while freezing to death as he took in the killer’s admittandly attractive pointy features.

“I'm well aware. Much better than my original last name, trust me.”

Aydin made a note to find that out after the beast was dead as he eyed the vampire’s cozy-looking cloak. He wanted it. His blanket had been abandoned with Daisy, who he would be worried about if she wasn't so damn reliable. He cheered silently when Damon hung it on a hook right next to his head and turned to walk out.

“If you'll excuse me, the darkness down here is driving me absolutely mad.”

That was a lie. He usually preferred the darkness, even when reading, as light was a painful reminder of when he foolishly left his manner in the daylight hours. His back burned just thinking about it. No, he wanted light to better observe the strangers wonderfully soft features. His attitude contradicted his looks, most definitely. He spoke like a hardened soldier but looked more like a baker's apprentice. Well fed, strong, and not a day over 27. Exactly Damon’s type. Hell, even his skin was perfect. Soft and clear, except for the freckles he swore he saw across his face and a scar stretching the length of his left cheek. Damon caught himself imagining the man's umber skin contrasting against his deathly pale complexion, warmth against cold, good against evil. He shook away the thought as he felt his heart grow warm, curse him for being such a bloody romantic.

He found a candle and lit it with a pack of matches he kept on himself (he was a bit of a pyromaniac, truth be told. Match fire was the one light he could stand to stare at) and made his way back down to his basement, excited to see the man in the candlelight.

He did not expect what he saw before him.

“You’re wrapped in my cloak.”

Swaddled in the thick fabric, only Aydin’s face was visible, his expression trapped between a scowl and a pout. “It’s cold down here, and you left it in reach. If you hadn't  decided to keep me prisoner in a bloody basement in the middle of winter, I wouldn't have to resort to thievery.”

“You look adorable.” The vampire stated, forcing a sneer into his voice. Because he did. He looked adorable and warm and perfect.

“Uh. Thank you,” Aydin shakily replied, blushing for the first time in he can't even remember how long.

“No problem, darling,” Damon winked, amused and trying to not give away the fact that he was starstruck by Ayden’s face. He’d never seen someone so beautiful.

Apparently he failed, as Aydin smirked at him and said, “What’re you looking at, Mr. Sharpe?”

“Your scar,” Damon lied, “how did you get it?”

“Vampire. Same ugly bastard that killed my parents.” Aydin said without hesitation.

“Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I've always hated when one of my kind makes an orphan. Entirely unnecessary.” Damon said, his face darkening.

“That's a tad hypocritical, isn't it? From what I’ve heard, you've killed a few parents yourself.”

“Only if they deserved it. Abusive bastards, mostly. Either to their spouse, child, or both.” Damon shrugged.

“Ah. You're the first vampire I've heard of that cared to make such distinctions.” Aydin stated casually, inwardly impressed. This man just keeps getting better. Beast, he corrected himself, a beast and a killer. Not deserving of my affections.

Damon smiled, obviously proud of himself, and Aydin scoffed.
“Still a killer.” He said.

“Well it's not like I have a choice,” Damon quickly retorted, obviously defensive.

“Couldn't you obtain it without bleeding someone dry?”

“Not without turning them. Unless they’ve consented. Which they never do, unless they want to be turned. And in those cases they revoke their consent and I create a monster. Don't think I haven't tried.” Damon said, annoyed.

“Oh.” Aydin said, shocked. “I always thought killing was just in your nature.”

“I'm afraid not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I’ll be taking my cloak back.” Damon retrieved it before Aydin had a chance to blink, and unfastened the cuffs keeping him on the floor while he was at it. “Follow me. I can't have my only guest in centuries freezing to death.”

(Author's note: wattpad doesn't like indents, apparently, and I can't be bothered to fix them, so sorry for any inconsistencies in that department)