#4 in aimtoengage
#64 in Fantasy.. Want to get a collection of stories in all genres, of varied tasted and interests? Here are the yarns of stories I weave... A unique collection of 500 words one-shots of different tastes for the #aimtoengage conte...
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The ice clinked against the sides of the glass as I put it down on the table. Getting up from the recliner, I stumbled over to the frozen window, throwing it open.
The gust of wind whipped my face. The shadows shifted around the room as the candlelight flickered. I cursed under my breath, slamming the window shut.
My body was breaking on itself, the heaviness in my chest, a constant companion.
"One more time," I tried to convince myself. "Tomorrow's a new beginning away from my addiction."
That one more time...
Yes, I need it. That last burst of euphoria, ethereal and deadly, yet I crave for it.
I don't understand what I desire though.
Is it him? Is it his lust? Bloodlust... Or is it death that I'm fond of ?
" Aaron..." my voice echoes thorough the empty hallways of the mansion.
I expect him at every corner, just like old times. He would swoop down, sweep me off my feet. I'd throw my head back and he'd run a trail of kisses down my throat. And then...
No. I can't think of it. Not yet, I need to find him.
He has disappeared.
I stay, cook, eat... I survive...
But without him I'm like a shell.
I needed to find a way to lure him out of his hiding. I reached in my pocket for the knife I had concealed. Without thinking, I ran the blade along my wrist.
Red spilled on the alabaster and the knife was knocked out of my hand. Someone had grabbed my wrist and was crushing my bones.
I winced.
The shadow jumped back, his olive eyes whispering betrayal.
"Why?"
"Cause I needed you. One last time... Please..."
He closed the gap in a blink and his lips were on me, devouring me, kissing me as if his life depended on it. I convulsed with the exquisite sensation as his fangs skimmed my throat.
It was as if someone had set fire to him.
He jumped apart, a feral fear in his eyes.
I tried to reach out.
"No, Ashlyn. Don't make this any harder. I'm trying to make this work so badly."
The helplessness in his tone broke me.
I wanted to soothe him. Tell him that everything will be okay. But instead madness took over and I found myself running out of the door.
He cried, but my sickly addiction overpowered me.
I didn't know where I was going. Until I found a pair of arms holding me.
"What happened, sugar?" he grinned.
"Brendan, no." I jumped back, suddenly realizing how vulnerable I was.
A crazy idea cropped up.
Yes. Brendan could drink from me. My mind wasn't working right anymore.
I walked towards him as if in a trance. His eyes gleamed with the primeval predatory instinct.
He had wanted me always.
I cried out in pleasure and pain as the world spun around me. I was drowning, gasping, sinking, dying and yet I held on, for ONE LAST TIME.
A/N Written as a romance for the #justwriteday. Thanks for reading.
