Caramel (wlw)

chapter 7 - laura

Laura's POV

I could barely stand without swaying; I'm one feeble fucker if I can't get blood.

I still don't get why Valentin would do this for me, but I'm not about to look this gift horse in the mouth. Instead, I flopped down on the couch and stared at my laptop screen.

There was something about him, a quality almost sinister in its secrecy and subsequent effect; it enshrouded this otherwise-ordinary man with an enticing mystique.

Christ, I went and got a degree, and somehow I ended up doing this? It started as a side income, but soon enough it earned more than my day job, so I did it full time. I didn't know it would be like this.

My head hurts; it's been two weeks since I fed. Slumping down further on the couch, I imagined Valentin under me, completely helpless. I shook my head. No, stop that.

Heat crept up my neck. No. I've never done anything like that to the women I've been drinking from. It was hard at first, I felt like I was violating them. Well, I technically was, but I didn't want to die, either. I know it sounds and looks awful, and sometimes I really want to tell them about what I was going to do, but I never do that because I might just get a wooden stake through my heart. Even though a regular kitchen knife would probably do the job better.

There's really no difference between me and other people. I consider what I have to be a medical condition, it's just that I can't tell any doctors. None of that superhuman shit, I can't run for more than three minutes straight. I'm not a threat.

I slapped the laptop lid shut. I've written as much as I can stand today. Standing up to stretch my arms, I fell back again. Jesus.

Valentin and I discussed this; I would have to drink once per week. Tonight will be the first session, and I am terrified.

I mean, it's the first instance, in a very long while, that I'm drinking from someone whose name I actually know. Sure, Val and I have known each other for a few months, but I feel a little warm on the inside, knowing that she trusts me like this. I don't want to do something wrong and mess it up.

Groaning into the pillow I brought with me, I didn't want to be conscious for the next few hours. I sighed; a nap should do me good.

Valentin shook me awake as I was lying prone on the living room couch. She smelled sweet, literally.

"There is icing in my hair. Don't ask," she said, as soon as I opened my mouth, "There's cake on the table, help yourself. I'm going to take a shower."

She then went to her room, running a hand through her hair and muttering under her breath. Adorable. I pushed myself up and walked, for as well as my jelly legs could carry me, to the table.

It's caramel—I think she noticed. I smiled to myself; she even left a little fork for me. The whole set-up felt oddly domestic. I swallowed my slice as fast as I could without choking and rushed to take a shower myself. You might think it's weird, but I want to be fresh when I drink my roommate's blood, okay?

Valentin was sitting at the kitchen table when I was done, dressed in shorts and a tank top.

"Come sit down," she said. I took the chair opposite her.

"Explain to me," she leaned forward, and the room just got hotter, "exactly what will happen."

I got the urge to rub the back of my neck as I tried to answer. "Well, you're going to be all floppy and weak. We'll be on a bed, so you don't fall or something."

She sighed. "Where?"

"Mine; your sheets are light, I don't wanna risk any stains."

"No, I meant," she gestured vaguely at herself, eyes closed, "where?"

Oh.

"Hereabouts," I said, tapping near her right collarbone.

She pulled away and very quietly said, "Let's go."

Wordlessly, I stood and walked ahead of her into my room. I actually cleaned the place up for this. She sat at the edge of my bed. I never thought about how awkward this would be.

"What now? How do you usually do it?"

Uncomfortable visions of various women wrapped around me flashed into my mind. Yeah, I'm not telling her that. "Just lie down," I said.

She settled her back on my pillows and I crawled over on top of her. I was chest to chest against her, mouth already watering, when I felt her hands at my waist.

"Wait," she said, in a small voice. Raising my head, her eyes had fear in them when they met mine.

"Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise." I didn't know how convincing I sounded with my fangs, which she obviously saw from the look on her face, already out, so I kissed her on the forehead. Her brows furrowed, but she nodded.

She gasped as my lips touched her skin. When I pierced through and blood began to well, an unmistakable groan came from her mouth, and her hand was tangled in my hair soon after my tongue was lapping up the blood.

I have to be careful not to mark the skin too much, but it's hard not to lose myself when Valentin has her arms around me. It got worse when she sighed my name; my lips, abandoning what I was here to do, travelled upward to her neck. Her hands crept under my shirt and she willingly tilted her head back when my tongue dragged across her throat.

No, she's not willing; she probably has no control over it. Grabbing her hands and pinning them on either side of her, she let out a whimper that almost made me let go. Do you have any idea how physically hard it was to keep drinking while keeping her hands off of me?

Soon enough, her arms went limp and her breathing became regular. We're done here.