Still Not Enough Time {A True Blood Fanfiction} {Godric x Oc}

-"Brothers"-

     I am aware of how ridiculous this is, trust me I know. I am a mockery of a vampire and of a man. I still taste Fen on my lips. I stopped off a few minutes ago across from a pub/house of ill repute. I wiped my bloody tears off my face with a handkerchief I kept in my pocket. 

     Attempting to shake the events of the last hour from my head proved fruitless. I stare numbingly and mindlessly at the whores doing their civic duty of luring men into their establishment. My mind wonders to thoughts of getting on a train and not getting off. I am not equipped for human love. Ridiculous. I have been an utter fool these past nights. Like I have been in a haze. No. Not a haze. I have never been so certain and clear of my own feelings in my entire undead life, and that is unacceptable. Maybe if Eric or Nora were here they would have foreseen this and stopped me. What do I know about love?

     The humans passed me like a cloud, barely glancing my direction as they did. I have not been alone in centuries, I fear this is where my desperate need for loving Fen comes from. I am addicted. I am afraid of the loneliness that comes with living this long. But what do I know about love? The question rings in my head like a million buzzing bees, bouncing, never ending. Foolish. I despise myself. The scent of my Fen lingers on my clothes. Her taste lingers on my tongue. Sage and desire. Why can I not handle this? It's so easy to leave, and yet I am frozen, drawn back to her. Something pushes me towards her. I need to feel her in my arms again. I am desperate. I yearn so completely for her.

     The cool breeze laps across my cold skin. I almost forget I'm not alone, so lost in my own head again. A sigh escaped my throat. Who am I to let my emotions control me like this? I am being unfair to Fen. However, I cannot face her. Maybe it is cowardice. I have faced countless foes, some much stronger than I. Yet... this is the first time I have been afraid in centuries. Ridiculous. I have been alive for too long.

     A woman of African descent from across the road spots me. She speaks to a cloaked person, whispering in their ear before making eye contact with me. Dancing and beckoning me. A pretty smile on a nice enough face. I cannot help but chuckle, humans are so predictable. Soon she makes her way towards me.

     "Look at this sweet one, are you afraid to go inside? We don't bite. Unless you want that." The whore smirks, chuckling smugly. I lean against the building on my back, mimicking her smile, staring up to her.

     "Why should I be afraid?" I inquire.

     "Boy like you, I'm guessing it'd probably be your first time. Is that about right? No shame in paying for it." She leans forward, her chest threading to bear down at my face, she was quite a bit taller than myself. The smile immediately fades from my lips. She thinks me a child. Of course. I release a lifeless chuckle and simply walk away, the persistent human however was not about to give up a potential customer that easily, so she follows. 

     "Hold on, sweetness, I didn't mean it like that. Honest." I am not wholly insulted, it's not her fault. However I am in no mood for being solicited. Yet, she pursues me. The woman grabs my hand unexpectedly, I instinctively whip around and snarl. She chuckles, but I did frighten her. 

     "Please excuse me, miss." I say, clear exacerbation in my voice. 

     "I only meant you are far too proper to be coming to a place like this, promise. Let me at least buy you a drink to make it up?" She bats her long lashes at me. The woman then takes a quick and worried glance back to the cloaked figure who begins walking inside.

     "No, I am afraid not. Thank you." I take my arm back from her hold.

     Suddenly the woman's eyes began to darken until the whole of them are covered in empty blackness. "Vampire, come with me." She demands, then begins quietly chanting in a foreign language. Latin perhaps? I try to open my mouth to speak but I am stuck. What power is this?! She grabs my hand once more and I begin following her pull.  My body is not my own. Necromancy. Of course. Who is she? Only very powerful witches practice this successfully. She leads me against my will into the building.