Blaze of Night

Seconds

He knew he shouldn't be there. It was much too early. Much too risky. But the window, open just a crack to let the cold night air in, had been just too tempting.

Grillby slept shirtless, he'd found out. A pleasant surprise. The fire elemental was lying on his back, the blanket pooled around his midsection, his head lolled to the side on his pillow. Leaving his neck tantalizingly exposed.

He leaned over the sleeping body, hovering just by Grillby's head.

"Sleep", he whispered softly, reaching for the slumbering mind with his magic, submerging it deeper into the dark recesses of unconsciousness, deep enough for him to be sure that despite the pain Grillby would not be stirred awake.

He knew he shouldn't be there.

It was much too early. Much too risky.

But he was so very hungry.

It was easy. It was easy to brace his hands on the mattress as he leaned closer, easy to brush his teeth against the bare skin to coax his fangs to unsheathe. To sink into the fiery heat of Grillby.

The taste flooded his mouth, that taste of wood smoke and salt, strong, exhilarating, rapturous. His marrow lit aflame, his Soul beating with stolen life, the Verve crashing into him like a tidal wave.

Beneath his teeth, he could feel it. Grillby's Soul. Feel how its once marble-like surface yielded, how it gave in, how it weakened, splitting by its seams just a little. How it surrendered those precious drops of Grillby's life force it had once relentlessly fought to keep.

He forced himself to quit. He tore his teeth away, the connection between their Souls snapping like a rope pulled too taut. As much he wanted to gorge himself, it'd be short-sighted. Having Grillby confined to bedrest while his plan was still in its early stages could disrupt the delicate balance of luring Grillby in, but never giving enough to truly satisfy. No. He was playing the long game, meticulous and thorough to ensure his victory.

So, he pulled away. Straightened himself. Tonight, he'd only get a taste.

Grillby's flame had dimmed, no doubt due to the Verve he'd lost. His face had twisted into a pained frown. If Grillby were awake enough he'd surely have whimpered.

"Shh, shh", he hushed, reaching forth, softly caressing Grillby's cheek with the back of his hand, as if the smooth out the miserable expression. No need to fear anymore. He was done now. No more hurt would befall Grillby that night.

Slowly Grillby's frown eased, his furrowed brow melting away. Soon his face was just as restful as it had been. Grillby looked beautiful when he slept, he thought. Peaceful. Free from worry and strife, all that remained was a childlike innocence, an unguarded vulnerability.

The thought of stealing a kiss from his sleeping beauty crossed his mind, an uninvited impulse to take what he'd been denied earlier. But, alas, he restrained himself. It'd be no fun without Grillby succumbing to him knowingly, willingly. And the wait would make his final reward all the sweeter. He wasn't going to ruin the delectation with premature action.

He straightened himself.

He knew he no longer had any reason to stay.

But yet, he lingered.

Grillby's Soul had yielded much easier than he had anticipated. It had felt softer than he'd have thought it would be by now. He smiled to himself. Grillby must have been a fair bit more smitten than he'd reckoned. How adorable. He'd have Grillby wrapped around his fingers in no time.

And then.

An image flashed in his head, Grillby's bare Soul in his hands, no longer confined to the body made of flame, soft and tender and pliant. He could imagine how it would feel in his mouth, how it would shatter between his teeth as he bit into it, every shard dripping, bursting with Verve. What it would be like to drink every last drop. How it's raw power would fill him, truly, fullysatisfy the endless hunger within.