WARNING: The content in this chapter might be triggering, or disturbing to some- as it mentions blood, hunger, and anxiety. Bear with me, this story isn't at it seems. I'm sorta...experimenting?
Oh yeah, sexual content (sorry)(but there's also fluff!)
(also this is a spooky AU)
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It's dark. So dark that the street lights look like fiery, blazing stars that burn seamlessly against the charcoal colored sky. You are still awake at this hour, with burning eyes and dry lips and a sandpaper tongue.
You feel the ache in the pit of your stomach gnawing at your insides like a ravenous animal, the beast that you have yet to let consume you, even when it feels as if its ripping through your abdominal and tearing your throat as it tries to claw its way out.
He was supposed to be here, hours ago.
He hasn't broken your agreement once since he signed the contract, until now. You haven't decided whether or not you are more angry, or hungry.
But when the door to your apartment creaks open and you hear the familiar scuff of his Alessandro Demesures against your hardwood floor, your body decides for you.
Hungry.
He gasps when your hands find the collar of his shirt in seconds, your fingers shakily tugging the coarse material as you take in his scent, nostrils flaring.
You already knew something was up the moment he took in a surprised breath at your sudden presence, since he is usually unfazed by your abnormal, enigmatic abilities.
But, then again, it's probably because of the god awful, putrid scent that is wafting off of him like the overbearing smell of an old lady's perfume.
That's why he gasped. Because he knew that you knew before he even had time to think of an excuse. You always know.
"Lavender really isn't your scent, darling," He stiffens as you lift yourself up on your tippy toes to nuzzle the crook of his neck with your nose, inhaling and shuddering against his taut figure. With anger, or hunger, he isn't quite sure.
"Tell me, that's not why you missed our feeding time? Because you were too preoccupied with a mortal and her breasts in your face?"
The sweet, deceivingly innocent lilt to your voice would almost be enough to soothe the anxiety coursing through him if it weren't for the streaks of red he sees swimming in your irises as he looks down at you, moonlight casting a pale glow upon your silhouette.
"I-I'm sorry, I really am I," His heart skips a beat as you kiss the pulse that is thrumming at his carotid artery, the sharp point to your fangs a harsh juxtaposition to your lips as you scathe over his sensitive skin just enough to make him shiver.
