Gore: Winterwidow

Chapter 11: Waltz

That night, James ordered in takeout and growled slightly as he startled the delivery boy. Seeing as he was delivering to a vampire late at night, it was probably nerve wracking, but James's hunger was really pissing him off now. He had gone without enough blood for a couple weeks now and even though it was just uncomfortable, he couldn't risk his natural instincts taking him over and hurting Natasha.

It was Chinese tonight and the smell made the vampire gag out of spite as he started setting the table as Romanoff stood at the stove, heating up some Kraft mac'n'cheese since it was more tolerable for James to choke down. He loathed human food so much- well all accept for bagels, of course. Everything else was just hella sand.

It also turned out that Davis hadn't returned any of her calls or texts, so she had nowhere to be. The excuse to pick up her clothes was easily abandoned and forgotten as they made unspoken plans for that night. The vampire just hoped his hunger wouldn't lose control once they hit the bed...

"Don't get all pouty on me, baby," the ginger hummed cheerfully as she came around behind the vampire and placed the pot on a hot pad in the center of the small kitchen round. "I know you don't like food all that much, but you said you've never tried chinese cuisine before so I'm forcing you to, now."

"Yeah, I got the memo already..." James huffed and reached out to snatch the bow of her apron as she moved past to take it off herself, finding it rather satisfying to help her take it off. "But can I just skip the orange chicken, please?? I hate chicken!!"

Natasha chuckled as she moved her hair so he could have an easier time pulling the apron off her and then tossed it onto the counter. "No way in hell, mister. Now sit your ass down at the table like a good boy and make a plate for yourself."

James scrunched his nose as she poked his cheek and he slumped down in a chair to glare at the food in front of him. How could Natasha expect him to eat this when she was sitting right across from her? Her blood's scent seemed so much more tempting than before, and all he wanted was a little bite...

NO! The vampire shook his head violently and stuck his nose into a box of noodles instead, trying to distract himself from the fact that the most exquisite and delicious delicacy was sitting right in front of him, utterly defenseless. Like hell he'd give in so easy.

Natasha seemed to notice his off behavior and frowned as her chopsticks dove into a cardboard box and pulled out some fried noodles for herself. James poured whatever chicken he could find on his plate, hoping to make himself too sick to think about blood.

"James? What the hell's going on with you? You're acting all antsy and... weird." Natasha raised an eyebrow as she tentatively took James's plate from him and started piling some chicken back into the box. "And for heaven's sake, you just said you didn't want any of this..."

James groaned and leaned his head on the table with exasperation as she handed it back with more of an assortment of food now. He was definitely picky, but that was besides the point. He needed blood, and he needed blood now. If he didn't get it fast, Natasha's life might be over before he could stop himself. And if he was the one responsible for that... hell he'd kill himself somehow for the guilt and loneliness. Without Natasha, there was no point in going on. She was the reason that he had been living so long, and she'd keep being the reason for his happiness and affection. Without Natasha to keep him sane, he'd let himself go and become the monster he was born to be.

"I'm just... hungry," he mumbled warily and wasn't surprised when Romanoff wasn't convinced. "I mean, not for food..."

"Oh, I see," Natasha set his plate down and thought for a moment. "James, how do you normally get blood?"