Demon saved by The Devil I Cassandra Dimitrescu

Basement Present

"Tomorrow is a big day. We don't want to anger your mother."

Tomorrow wasn't, in fact, a big day. And they didn't anger Lady Dimitrescu, the weather did.

Gods gave Zână Pădurii a sign of the number three and the witch, hoping to have Cassandra gone quickly, thought they meant three days. However, after she woke up with the vampire's arms and legs wrapped around herself and heard how strong the wind danced on the other side of her windows, the realization fell over her. They didn't mean three days but weeks.

Shivers overtook her body at the memory of that feeling, and also, at the feeling of the horrible cold she felt when she had to unwrap herself from Dimitrescu's grip. She left Cassandra in bed, alongside the part of herself, which was longing for her, and took over the kitchen. This time, however, there was no humming, no swaying hips, and dancing as she cooked.

Her mind was filled with nothing but the food and Cassandra. Zână wondered if Cassandra would like it if Cassandra ever tried to eat anything else than human flesh and blood if Cassandra thought that witch's blood was good, or how it tasted like for the vampire. It seemed like her mind knew only one name.

Cassandra. Cassandra. Cassandra. Over and over again with some words and sentences that seemed to be picked carefully and completely unimportant at the same time. Pădurii admitted that Cassandra would become obsessed, but what if Zână became obsessed first?

The witch preferred sins of omission much more than lies and used them almost all the time, including every conversation with Cassandra. No one, not even Miranda knew the whole truth about Zână Pădurii, and for now, it looked like it was about to remain like that.

Zână was deep in her head. Bored. Angry. Stressed. Exhausted. Filled with thoughts circling about only one person. One person, a vampire, will sleep in her bed for the next day, or even two before she would wake up confused and hungry. She was half only about the fact that she decided to give little Dimitrescu the smallest amount of her 'poison'. If Zână would deepen the kiss or make it longer Cassandra would be asleep much longer, and even if the witch would have more time for herself, however, that would cause Cassandra to be more obsessed.

Dimitrescu slept for two days, giving the witch time but at the same time took away most of her rest at night and in bed. She rested peacefully in every other room of her home, dancing in the kitchen or while cleaning, filling jars with dried herbs or even making some with affirmations and spells, and even came back to journaling. She had two days of peace without Cassandra ravishing her with her eyes, teasing and playing with the witch's mind.

And she hated that. She hated the fact that it was so easy to be the played one, all because of that loneliness. Zână knew exactly why she was starving from any interactions, attention, and affection, and at the same time hated it. Everything Cassandra would do, even damn eye contact was driving the witch crazy. She was always the one to play and tease with others as she knew that they would die and leave her one day, but Cassandra was immortal just like her, and knowing that the urge to make her hers, trap her inside the cottage and never let her leave was more intense with each passing hour.

That was until morning when Zână tried to free herself from vampire's grip once again, cold hand clenched around her waist with a hoarse growl filling the whole bedroom. Witch close her eyes knowing that Dimitrescu finally woke up and just let the vampire hold her as if she was about to vanish in thin air.