dead love.

13. pretend

I SHOVED MYSELF off of him, horror and disgust flowing through my tense nerves.

"What did you do to me?" My words were unmistakably shaky. Afraid.

He tried to lure me.

Vampires had the ability to "lure" their prey in a dangerous yet seductive way. A few pretty words and smirk would have humans succumb to them, despserate to please them. A single breath in their direction would have their prey follow them to their own death. 

As a demon, I was immune to being lured by any creature.

But I was weak. It had only been until recently that I'd forced myself to become more concious of my thirst, but I'd been starving myself for the past century. I had been killing and devulging in thirst only when I was unable to control myself.

And Camille had been testing that control.

"Lilith," Sébastien spoke quietly, a soft voice I recognized when he was talking with humans. Trying to console and coo them into ease and comfort.

I turned away from him.

"I didn't mean to do anything. If I did, I sincerely apologize. It wasn't my intention," he said but I continued to ignore him.

I made my way into the bathroom before I closed and locked the door.

I dressed myself quickly, leaving a few buttons of the black collared shirt open while I lifted the slacks to hang lazily over the sharp curve of my hips. My chest was bare apart from the black lacy bra and chain that held Amélie's ring. I tied my lose dark curls in a messy updo and slid a pair of polished Doc Martens. 

I sighed before opening the door.

I breathed in deeply, smelling Sébastien's musky scent. It was a mix of sandalwood, cedar and a hint of cologne. His hormones, however, were pungent. Waves of anxiety and fear rocked my core and I held my breath as I spoke.

"It wasn't your fault, Sébastien." I responded calmly, allowing my anger to simmer into frusteration.

It was his instinct as a vampire to prey on the weak. For a brief moment, I was his prey.

It was pure instinct.

Nothing more, nothing less.

He shook his head.

"You know how I feel about you, Lilith." he said, rougher than before. 

"You also know that I don't feel the same way. We've been over this before," I told him, unable to hide my distaste.

It didn't take long for me to realize his attraction to me was romantic when we were younger. I had arrived at his doorstep as a damsel in distress, but he knew I was anything but. It had been more than 150 years ago, but he still hadn't lost the obsessive attatchment.

But I belonged to Amélie.

My fingers clenched and unclenched as I attempted to calm my waves of emotions.

He always brought out the monster in me.

"It's because of her, isn't it?" He sounded empty and numb, almost callous.

I turned to find him staring blankly at the mirror, watching my hands and fingers move stressfully.

"She might make you feel human, Lil. But we both know you're not." he said, his voice growing more distant as his expression contorted into a more inhuman rage.

"Stop pretending."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I made my way into Sylvain, ignoring the numberous concerned glances as I spoke to the hostess.