Tainted Love ~Muke Clemmings~

Chapter 12

After that, we didn't talk for the rest of the dinner. He wasn't necessarily happy, though. But I am not the best at reading expressions.

When we both finished, he got up from the table. "Do you only want to be around for the things I provide?" He asks me, finally breaking the silence.

When I thought about it in that context, it sounded selfish. "I want to stay. Please don't over think it." I beg of him, not wanting to anger him.

But I was far too late.

His eyes were once again dark. "Maybe you should leave." He snaps, glaring at me.

"Please calm down. You need to calm down. How about tomorrow we spend the day together." I say to him, feeling a bit nervous.

His breathing his heavy, as he walks over to me. It was intimidating, mainly because he was standing and I was sitting; and maybe the fact he could probably snap my neck if he wanted to. "How about I turn you." He whispers, putting his mouth down toward my body.

"I won't let you." I try and stand up for myself.

"Do you even know how I turn you?" He asks me.

"A bite to the neck?" I guess, that is what I have heard.

He steps back a bit, laughing. "Typical. No." He says to me.

He smiles, and I see his teeth. It wasn't like two of his teeth were pointed. All of them were.

They weren't long, but short. They looked sharp though. "I drink about fifty percent of your blood, doesn't matter where. Then I give you some of my blood. And that vampire blood will pump strongly through your veins. You will have a miserable couple of days, a very sick flu feeling. But then you are better. Your teeth grow, and you becoming strong." He explains.

"You wouldn't." I test him. I know I was testing him.

"No, I wouldn't. Not now, or anytime in the very near future." He replies.

I just nod slightly, as I can see his light green eyes in the candle light. "I didn't mean that the only reason I wanted to stay was because of the things you give me. Because it isn't. I am beginning to learn to not hate you. If that sounds any better." I tell him.

I felt bad that he got so upset about what I said, when I did not really mean it like that. Why am I feeling bad for him?

"I guess it does." He sighs, moving away from me and sitting back down on his chair. "I don't mean to scare you, or be so impulsive. I just..." He starts, trailing off.

"You just what?" I ask.

"So how was dinner?" He asks me.

"Don't change the subject." I snap, knowing he was hiding something.

He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. He was trying to calm down. He says, "I am not going to tell you. How many times do I have to tell you. You are just a human. And I am sure as hell not going to spill my life secrets to you."

"I am not asking you to do so!" I yell at him.

"Do not yell at me!" He says at the same volume.

His eyes were once again becoming dark. "You need to stop getting so pissed off anytime I say something to you. Why do you think I have such a hard time trusting you? I am scared of you, of what you can do to me." I say slowly, and calmly.

"Stop being a spoiled brat." He responds, glaring.

"How ironic, coming from you I mean." I snap.

"If you want to be out of that room of yours I suggest-"

"I show you some respect. I know." I interrupt. "I am not sure you remember, but this is how people have conversations. People should get their crap off their chest without the fear the other will threaten them or kill them. I do not want to let it build up, then spill out one day; getting myself murdered my you." I finish, getting tired of this.

Tired of him. Tired of the arguing. Tired of the threats. I was just tired.

He was about to say something, but then stops himself. He was trying to find a way to prove me wrong. But he knew, somewhere, that I was right.

"Tomorrow. We are going to the park a couple towns over, in Manhattan. Be ready at 9:00." He tells me, getting up from the table and leaving.

For once he did not argue with me, he did not want the last word in the argument. He dropped it.

And I guess that is progress.

I watched him walk away, and even after he closed the door, I just kept the focus. He was slightly hard to look away from.

"No, Luke." I whisper to myself.

I hated being gay. I remember when people said it was choice. It was never a choice.

I wish I was straight, so I could hate Michael more. But I just have a hard time doing so. He was fairly attractive.

"No." I order myself.

When things get in my head, I sometimes have a hard time getting them out.

I get up from the table, not sure if I should do anything about the setup. Someone would probably do it when I left. So, I just headed toward the door and opened it. I looked back at the table, the candles that were still lit, and I get into the hallway. I walk down the hallway, and into my room.

I smile, leaning up against the door.

"This is going to be fun." I hear, and I scramble for the light.

It didn't sound like Michael.

I flipped the switch, and light immediately filled the room. I see Calum and Ashton sitting on my bed. "What is it this time?" I ask them, too mentally drained to deal with them.

"Here's the deal. We beat you straight, and you blame it on someone named Kenny. If not, we will kill you. So painfully." They tell me and I look at them confused.

"Aren't you supposed to respect Michael?" I ask.

"Do not call him Michael." Calum snaps, obviously angered by my causal mention of his name.

"Sorry Calum, I forgot about that labeling thing." I smile.

The next moment, he is behind me. He is holding me in a position that I couldn't move. "You think we should turn him, Ashton?" Calum asks.

"That's too far. But I want the first hit."