Te Iubsec...Forever.

14 Blood

I followed Ches into the kitchen. She seemed mildly irritated suddenly, but I just struck it off as general annoyance. I had that effect on her sometimes, especially when I seemed to follow her around. It wasn't that at all, either. I simply wanted to get my bag, drink it, and be done with it. I didn't want to be watched or coddled, no extra attention. That was what annoyed her. Franceska talked it up so much that now she wanted it to make a big production.

"What do you need, Nick?"

She asked curtly, leaning over, her hand on the small nondescript refrigerator at the end of the kitchen cabinets.

I didn't answer, just squinted a little, right at her like she better know why I was standing there.

"Nick," she breathed exasperatedly.

"You go and sit down. I will bring it to you. We will have ours together."

She gently pushed, rather tried to push me back out of the kitchen and into the den. I wasn't going to budge.

"You don't have to bring it to me, babe. Just give me one, and we'll both Capri-sun the stuff and get it over with. Come on," I said, leaning past her and opening the cooler door myself.

She put her hand over mine and snapped the door shut just as quickly, then she turned my chin to face her, squeezing a little. Her eyes were dark, but her eyebrows told me the whole story. They were raised in near-perfect black arches above her eyes that were staring a hole through me and into another dimension from which I was sure she was drawing some dark energy. I was asking too much.

She remained silent and blinked slowly once. I was waiting for the explosion, but it never came, just the stare and the slight smile that could go either way if I was a gambling man, and I wasn't. I chose my following words carefully.

"I'm sorry, Ches. Thank you. I'll go wait in the den."

I gave her temple two quick kisses and got out of there quickly, returning to the den and my chair. I was being an asshole. It hit me. She wanted to care for me like her mom did for her. She wanted to be there for me. She felt responsible for me. All she wanted to do was help, which was essential to her. Making her happy was important to me, so I had to learn a bit about grace myself and let her do her thing.

Ches excused herself, then came back shortly wearing only her emerald green bathrobe, tied in a nice loose knot. She then busied herself, lighting candles throughout the house. She would pass me, casually rub the back of my head, and put a hand on my shoulder. I waited and watched, closing my eyes and resting. I must have dozed off.

When I woke, it was nearly dark outside. The den was aglow in orange, yellow light, flickering candlelight. It took me a second to get my senses together and remember what was happening.

"Nick," she whispered from the couch where she sat catlike, watching me.

"I want you to get comfortable. Go put on your night clothes for me."

Night clothes. She meant my cotton lounge pants and soft T-shirt I wore around the house in the evening. Sure, no problem with that at all. I retreated to the bedroom, changed, and returned. Ches had placed a tray containing our drinks on the coffee table and had also brought a pitcher of water. I wanted to look, but it was just too obvious, and I felt a little foolish, so I avoided it. I was going to drink a glass of blood. It was really going to happen. I swallowed hard, looking at her in all of her beauty.

"I am ready."

 I paused, reaching for my neck and the puncture wounds the doctor noted, strange but a result of the crash nonetheless. I held my arm there a moment. Of all things, that spot was still a little sore.