Cold One

Sixteen: Thought

I should've not take the damn medicine, I curse silently as I throw the small plastic container filled with tiny pills inside my drawer, shutting it harshly then.

I consider banging my head on the walls for what happened, but I know it won't be a wise decision –especially if Zion come inside the room in the middle of the process.

The medicine played tricks on me, making me do things without thinking it through. I sincerely condemn the item, but then again, what if it's not the reason I kissed him? What if I just wanted to kiss him?

Especially in the dark, when his cold body was very close to me and his gorgeous blue eyes were whispering spells that I couldn't refuse. The moonlight caressing his pale skin and his lips felt like night air with starry sky above it. Indescribably intoxicating. He tastes like winter and fire, like lightning on a hurricane, like–

I need to stop.

Cursing underneath my breath one more time, I kick my shoes away and grab my towel.

In the bathroom mirror I glance slightly to see what mess I look like. Decent, I guess, considering I fought vampires in a city where the only living creature was corpses and hostages. And the girl I killed– she was no longer human, I have to believe that. Or else I'd get crazy from all the shitty things I have to do.

It's always me when the Vixen were faced with a situation like that. As tough as all my team mates are, they don't have the gut to kill human –even ones that that don't even look like one anymore. I've tried to tell them, but they still had the doubt in their eyes until at one point I stopped trying to ask them and get the job done myself when it comes to shooting a human in the head. Harsh. That's the world I'm living; harsh.

After taking a quick shower, I dry myself off and get out of the room with the towel wrapped around my body. Zion is still nowhere in the room, but I figure he probably needs time after what just happened.

I put on some clothes, letting my body fall to the bed then. The softness of the bed caressed my skin and I pull the cover tighter around my body. I can feel shiver runs up my spin as the scene in the kitchen plays back in my head over again in the sudden.

Sighing, I close my eyes and try to think of something else.

"Zion," I called him that night, making his head looked up at me. "What are you doing on the floor?"

It was only a few days after I met him. Our bond was raw and cold and distant and full of bad thoughts. At least him. He feared me so much back then, in fact, a little too much.

He looked at me with pure confussion in his dark blue eyes. Furrowing his eyebrows, he said, "Resting."

I knew vampires didn't really need sleep to restore their energy like humans do, but I still thought it was more humane to let him stayed in a proper resting place rather than just a cold hard floor.

Reaching out my hand for him to take, he stared at it bewildered for a while before taking it in his cold hand.

"Get up," I told him. "You're resting on my bed."

Cold One spared me an even more confused look as he then stood in front of me. "Your bed?"

"What about it?"

"But... where will you sleep then? I'm not supposed to be in a same bed as you," he said to me. I knew he was using the slave-master terms for that one.

"I've told you I don't care about that sort of thing, haven't I?" I asked him back. "My bed is big, Cold One. As long as you're not touching me in my sleep, then we're fine."