Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Breaking the habit ❯ Break ( Chapter 1 )

The park was a sounds cape of night-time voices. A few people drifted through, drunk obviously, from the loud wailing cries and the preparations for a quarrel with a person living somewhere in the nearby vicinity. It was silent and calm, when the shadows of the drunken people had left the area, and Matthew sat calm and quiet on a bench beneath a tree watching the calm surface of the little pond sparkling with the light from the street lamps reflecting in the dark waters. His hands were folded in his lap and the gaze was turned to the waters in some sort of search for response.
It was a long time ago he had allowed himself a stroll in the park. Now he was there for no other obvious reason than breaking the habit.

The almost complete silence that laid above the park, was a rare pleasure in the busy lives people in The city of Shadows lived, not that many had jobs, it was a job it self to make it through the day alive, let along the night.
Almost soundless feet moved over the ground, leaving small traces, her hair hang loosely around her shoulders, swaying in the wind. She seemed to be having quite and argument with herself and her spirit seemed uneasy, nervous. "I'm not going to do it, I'm not going to do it" she whispered to the cold stars above her, not caring she would seem crazy to any ''normal'' soul hearing her rough voice. Between two of her fingers rested a source of a light white fog, smoke, drawing almost abstract lines of white. "I'm not going to do it!" she took a few steps forward, suddenly realizing she was not alone anymore, she yelped shortly, jumping a little away from the bench she had just passed.

The mumbling girl seemed to have taken no notice of his presence and he rose quickly and withdrew until his squinting eyes could make out her faint figures in the dim shadows that surrounded them. A slight furrow appeared on his forehead as he watched her intensely. "Not going to do what, I'm sorry?" he asked slightly apologetically for his presence. "I couldn't help hearing you speak, my dear," his gaze crossed her body, almost counting every inch of her while trailing up and down her in a short flash of a glance.

Blaise furrowed her brows, still trying to make her heartbeat return to its normal rate. She was wearing a black sweatshirt that hung loosely around her upper body, not revealing any of her slim, curved body. "No it's my fault, I tend to talk out loud when I think I'm alone, bad habit, sorry" she answered, narrowing her dark eyes at him, he seemed familiar, yet she did not recognize him. She lead the cigarette to her mouth and put the end in-between her full lips, she had a child-a-like look to her, her downer lip always curved into a slight pout. Blaise withdrew the cigarette, inhaling before exhaling the white smoke. She didn't really mind his searching eyes, figuring he was looking for hidden weapons on her, it was quite normal to get those stares.

His left eyebrow curved slightly upwards while his gaze retreated from the scan of her seemingly un-harmful presence. "You must be Blaise," he said silently. "I've heard about you," he found a cigarette of his own and lit it, still surveying her closely still. "The leader of the rebels," he commented with some sort of sly smirk attached to the thin lips curling upwards. His icy, blue eyes gleamed like stars caught in a haze of pearl-like glows and he tilted his head a bit, allowing the waist-long, raven black hair to unfurl its full length in front his shoulders, dangling down like thin spider web-like threads. The almost bluish gleam was like small reflections and highlights on the strands and his youthful face had small lines here and there, mostly from experience, but sorrow was too a reason for their presence.

Blaise smirked slightly at that, straitening her way of standing a bit, seemingly proud. She was the youngest rebel-leader that had been, ever. "Yes, and I'm sure it's all good you've heard" she purred, almost cat-alike, she threw him another intense look to try and figure out where she had seen him before. Though, failing to place his face once again. "I'm sorry, I can't seem to place your face anywhere, but I've seen you before, I'm sure of it" her intense auburn brown eyes searched his face for a slight hint of who he was, vampire she guessed, when she realized that, her body went a little stiff, you could tell her shoulder stiffing. Though she didn't seem scared, just prepared. "A vampire, right?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, before letting the cigarette rest between her lips once again.

His dark, calm voice made her shiver slightly, though it was not nearly as visible as it felt, only a slight shake of her hands. She threw the almost finished cigarette at the ground, crushing it into the dirt with her heel. "Arzazel would have been a good choice as well" she muttered, she never really liked that woman, but admired her as well. "Matthew Nathaniel?" she questioned, just barely stopping her mouth from dropping. "You're the leader of the vampires, what are you doing this late, in a park?" she asked, a slight twitch startling her upper lip. "Looking for food?" she didn't care much for vampires, though she held her head with a bit respect for his status.

He laughed. "Nah, merely taking a stroll in the backyard of hell, don't you think?" he gestured to the gloomy surroundings. The concrete blocks were visible, not close, but still visible between the branches of the tall, old oaks that dotted the large, grassy plain which was called the park. He smiled back at her, holding out an arm for her to take it. "Would you accompany me on my late evening walk or do you have werewolves to shoot with your precious silver bullets?" his smirk seemed not lessened by any means, and his eyes twinkled with a slight hint of amusement.

Blaise smiled a mysterious at him, in-between friendly, arrogant and yet charming, almost a smirk. "I could not very well refuse a vampire lord such as your self, now could I?" It wasn't really a question to be answered. She took a few steps forward and wrapped her arm loosely around his, as her eyes for the first time that night fled from his face and eyes; they wandered around the park, the twitch in her lip continued, as she was displeased at the stats of the park. "And you're quite right, something needs to be done to this place, I wouldn't even let my worst enemy live in surroundings like this." she sighed as her auburn eyes wandered back to glance at him, they had the same warm colour as the leaves falling in autumn, a glimmer dancing around them like a spark of life. She was wearing a pair of loose light-blue jeans that hung around her hips, only held in place with a seemingly very old belt.

He laughed, not a loud and uncontrolled laughter, but a slight, catchy, subtle laugh that seemed to come out of no where. His eyes narrowed a bit accompanying the dark tones of his laughter as he began walking slowly around the pond where a little family of ducks and ducklings had found shelter underneath the low branches of some bushes growing near the pond shore. "Nobody can refuse me, if you don't mind me talking too proudly of myself," he said silently, glancing shortly at her before looking back at the surroundings. "The City is decaying, almost rotting, whether it's the constant rain or the darkening of death within it, we can't tell," he sighed silently, knowing that he, at least, was one of the creatures that brought darkness and death along on his trail through the shadowy nights of the City.

Blaise raised a brow at his statements about himself, though she merely smiled at them, not bothering to make a snatchy comment about it. Her eyes trailed the lines of his face before searching to the pound; water wasn't a thing she enjoyed much but the moon and stars that reflected in it, she had to admit to her self, it was beautiful. His chuckle made the small sensitive hairs around her neck straighten, as had he laughed softly right onto her ear, she had a hard time restraining the shiver that went trough her every bone. "I suppose your right, though, I still have hopes for this place, maybe its not too late to safe it" she said, her voice a little quite, as if speaking the words made a fool out of her, she glanced straight ahead, watching the horizon in the distance. Her jeans swayed slightly with her hips movements and slightly touched the ground, as she walked.

His eyebrow rose a bit and he glanced down at her questioningly. "Save? Do you truly believe in saving a god-forsaken place like this where nothing else than surviving is on the daily agenda? Killing and surviving?" he asked silently. His breath, though without the slightest hint of air, hit her cheekbone. He saw the small shivers appear in her posture as the walked around the considerable broad pond though he paid no true attention to them. He was used to his charms dragging anyone into his web of deceitful seduction. Her pretty face was hidden in the shadows of a tree shortly as they walked past it, down the gravelled path that circled the pond shores. A slight hint of rain caught the air as a breeze flew past them and the leaves rustled in the trees.

A sigh escaped her clinched lips, as he spoke; for she knew all to well he was right. "I know that this place seems doomed, but I have to believe it's worth saving" she shortly gripped his arm as his breath collided with her warm skin. "Don't do that" she almost yelped, the coldness of his breath made shivers run down her spine, she had left her warm black leather jacket at home, and the sweatshirt didn't provide much warmth. His breathing was an unwelcome factor of coldness. Her tangled long chocolate brown hair curled up as the slight rain.

He smiled apologetically and turned his face away to look away out into the surrounding darkness. The rain fell gently on his lean, pale face with the fair taint no earthly human could posses. "Although this world is not real, it seems more real than the one we once lived in," he said quietly. "I believe there's not much to be said. We survive. So do the humans in the real world," he looked down at her again with a sad, almost bitter smile, which added the solemn gleam to his eyes that could not be denied, whether you looked into them or not. He stopped in a short break, glancing around, his ears straining to listen for any detectable sounds nearby, but nobody seemed to follow them. She stood in front of him with her side turned towards him. "Pity, I believe this place would look beautiful in sunlight," he sighed.

Blaise smiled shortly, a genuine smile, one of those how would light up her face. "It really is," she answered in a soft dreamingly voice, before she turned her face up towards him. "The humans have to keep believing, that's what we do, that's what keeps us alive." noticing the sadness, displayed in his pale youth full face, a sting of sympathy hit her heart as she viewed his solemn expression. "Matthew... Do you ever miss...? Living?" she asked him, a quite personal question, but she liked talking to him. "Breathing, viewing a sunset... Warmth?"

He took a slow, unnoticeable breath. He did not have to, it was not required for his system, but the continuous habits always returned now and then and he slowly let go of her as he walked back to a bench, underneath an oak, shielding the weather-worn bench from the worst drops of rain. He sat down while surveying her and took a light drag on the cigarette while pondering the question. It was not something he was asked frequently however he knew he reflected upon life and death almost every night of his unending life. Slowly, he nodded acknowledging. "Some times," he said quietly and looked up to meet her eyes. There was something sad in them, a longing for release from the pain of death, release from the need to kill to survive, just as he had told her. "I often dream of seeing the sun, I some times walk out of my mansion to look around, wearing sunglasses, gloves, a hooded shirt, anything, but it's never the same. Living is pain to me, or at least trying to live, so, whenever I return I seldom try to convince myself that the stroll outside was a good thing, however, next morning I'd consider the very same thing again, not remembering the pain, only..." he hesitated and looked away. A light sting in his eyes told a story of a few tears gathering at their brim. "Only the longing for a life, mortal and simple," he sighed and smiled bitterly. "I guess I shouldn't. I lie awake in the daytime, insomnia is one of my worst flaws, and that's when I walk outside," he shrugged still smiling and looked back at her with twinkling eyes. "I guess I must answer both yes and no to that question, my dear."

Blaise followed him to the bench and sat down beside him in one soundless movement, she placed her hands in her lap as she listen to his voice, avoiding looking at him. She could tell by the sound of his voice that tears had appeared in his icy blue eyes, she dared not look at him afraid to embarrass him. As she watched the rain she listened to his comfortable voice. "There is nothing simple about being mortal, as a mortal you have to constantly worry about dying, failing the people you love by quitting in such a fatal way" she exhaled calmly as she finally turned her face towards Matthew, tilting her head a little. "Being a vampire must be both a blessing and a curse" she concluded, smiling slightly at him.

He nodded eloquently. "It is," he said. "Wonderful and yet doomed in a strange sense of way that I don't even know completely. They say we live forever. What is forever? Who'd, for all they know, want to live forever? Stand on the brink of the world and watch it crash and burn?" he raised an eyebrow slightly and his smirk returned as he blinked away the few tears that had appeared. His hand reached slowly out and took one of hers that lay in her lap and he smiled at her. "I guess those who are mortals seek for immortality, while we, the immortals, seek for mortality. It may depend on our life. Reaching an age of 90 years and still showing no signs of ageing or a physical system breaking down is worrying at time, it drives you crazy in the beginning until you find out how to cope. If you're young and want to live your life for as long as possible, eternal life is what you believe to be the key to all your worries, your young appearance not failing, your strength never lessening and your charisma never letting you down. When you're more than 2000 years old, it's a completely different picture." He laughed silently and gave her hand a friendly squeeze.

A silent smile rose to her lips once again as she listened to his wonders, she didn't move her hand when he reached out and took it in his, but merely let the cold flesh surround her chill hands. It was not warm outside and her hands were slightly cold, but compared to his they were warm. Blaise studied the stretch of his fingers, happy to conclude that his skin was soft, not rough like most men's were. It sort of felt like her hand was covered by silk, cold, soft silk. She glanced up at him once again while he still spoke, asking questions that mostly didn't seem directed at her, but towards the world it self. "As I see it, most of the questions you ask, you already know the answer, but you do not seem to be satisfied with the answers you have concluded. As to the thing about immortality and mortality, the grass is always greener on the other side, and you want what you can't have. This world survives on forbidden desires, yet it is the same thing that is tearing it apart. Mortals seek meaning in their life's, some find mortality is the meaning and accept the fact that they are once going to die, others never find their meaning, without a meaning they have to keep searching. Have to keep living, which is why they fall for the offer of the devil himself, immortality. A never ending search for meaning." her eyes twinkled as she spoke, bit's of her tangled hair trailing down her neck and yaw line, she had turned her face to look straight ahead, instead of watching him. "I believe you don't figure out the meaning, before it is too late. Only in the moment your eyes closes for the very last time, you heads last thought will be the meaning. And odd and unfair believe, I know, as to that you can never be sure until you lie there dying, thinking 'What I did, was right'. I chose mortality, as I want to know my answer sooner then the immortals do.." she trailed off turning her head a little, sending a stray of hair down her cheek, disturbing her vision, her hand flew up and she pushed it behind her ear in a simple movement.

He nodded, silent still. "So I might never know the answer?" he asked with a little smile plastered to his lips. He turned his head, tossing his hair away from his face and looked at her. There was a gentle gleam to his eyes this time, not intensely surveying, merely exploring the auburn colour of her hair, the fair colour of her skin, the hazel-like eyes, and the small curve of her cheeks and the rational way her vision seemed to be directed to the world around them. The shadows danced along the gravel path in front of them and beneath the trees, a subtle, indifferent dance. To be a shadow, to be nothing but the cool shade of a palm on a sandy, sunny beach, to be existing and yet have no consistence to comply to, no body to move, no heat nor cold to feel. He looked down at his hand that still rested around hers; he could feel the pulse of her veins underneath her soft, satin-like skin, see the colour as the particles of the capilea pushed the blood to the skin surface, heating it slightly. His gaze turned to the space under her jawbone, where the pulsating vein, the biggest of them, was visible to his eyes, pumping the precious, life-giving liquid into her body, monotonously and constant, like an eternal machine never ending. It would end when her heartbeat ceased, when that beautiful rhythm of life ended in her and left her body cold, dead and numb. How long would she survive the post as the leader of the rebels? When would there be a new election?
"I hate to admit this, but off the agenda, you're very beautiful," the words left his lips, well-spoken, soft like candlelight in a dark room. He smiled, not regretting this statement. It was just the way it ought to be. Simple and well-meant.

Since Matthew was holding her hand, he must've felt how her muscles tightened shortly, before they softened with a sigh. The genuine smile had left her features, replaced by a fragile fake one. Blaise looked at him with those deep brown eyes, reflecting a vertex of emotions, thoughts cursed trough her head making her eyes shatter a bit, the most clear one, most relationally, most likely ones where: "He's planning to kill me, trying to lure me to do something" and "He doesn't mean it, or else he's just stating a fact". Her face went Blanc, before she regained herself. Her eyes now searching his face to find the source of the bit of information he had carelessly swung out. "Beauty has many different aspects, Leader Nathaniel," she purposely used his last name and there by also reminded him of his obligations. "You don't know me enough to use that term so freely. I do not wish for compliments for the shell of a body where my soul rests, it means nothing to me." Her voice was only a little louder than a whisper, her hand slipped out under his as she pulled a little away. She did not wish to displease him, nor did she want to offend him, a compliment was a compliment, and should be received with greater enthusiasm then what she had shown him. Somewhere along the thoughts of rejection towards the statement, there was one little one who was flattered. It wasn't just about everyday that she was told, she was beautiful by a handsome leader of another race, how could she help but feel flattered?

He looked down at her retreating hand and let go with his own. His smile had become solemn, on the brink of apologizing. "I know a beautiful soul when I see one, as most beautiful souls reside within an equally beautiful shell," he replied softly. He looked away from her as he removed his hand to rest on his thigh and he gazed across the pond. Ripples appeared where raindrops fell, causing the blank, silk-like surface to flicker now and then. Breezes came and went as well, tossing the tree tops around. The remnants of autumn leaves danced down here and there. One landed in his hair, another on his shoulder, but he did not seem to care. "Beauty is not something we can claim or have, unless someone else tells you that you posses it," he looked back at her with a vigilant glance. "Would you not say so if you looked into a mirror?" he asked with a polite smirk.

Blaise smiled slightly at his smirk; somehow she couldn't stand the look in his eyes, so solemn, as if she had made him feel guilty. She shortly looked away and inhaled the cold air before turning her head towards him again, she had a better view of him now and watched how a little of his hair swayed with the wind. Just as hypnotizing as a hypnotists pendulum, her hand left her lap where they both had rested, as she reached out and removed the golden leaves from his shoulder. His shoulders seemed strong, but not too harshly build; she admitted to her self he had a body that could have been made by angels. As she reached up and removed the leave from his hair, she answered:”Mirrors are betraying reflections of what our thoughts of ourselves is," Blaise felt her breath being held back a little as her delicate fingers closed around the leave in his hair, her fingertips brushing against the soft black mane, resisting the urge to stroke it, she removed her hand with the leave caught between two of her fingers. She let her breath out with a soft silent sigh as she felt her cheeks burn slightly. "But it was nice of you, thank you" she almost muttered, as low as had she just uttered something forbidden, a secret, known to only him and her.

The short instinctive laughter returned, warm and precious, like a bubble bursting on the surface of boiling water. He turned his head slowly, feeling her fingertips tossing at a pair of his strands when they removed the leaf that seemed to have found its way to a new life in his hair, something he quite disagreed with the leaf in. He glanced shortly upwards as if he could see on the outside of his head how her hand moved, resisting the temptation of the devil, not stroking any of his strands, merely removing the withered leaf from them. He looked back at her, his eyes direct and catching her gaze as if grasping a firefly in a warm summer evening. "You're welcome, Blaise," he said, his voice soft, dark and quiet, like a wrapping, comforting blanket closing in around her, to put her to sleep. His eyes scanned her sweet, adorable face, the curious and yet vigilant brown eyes and her features, delicate and childish, yet on the edge of blooming for real. It would not be long. She was like a lily preparing to stretch the cream coloured petals to greet the sunlight, spraying a dazzling shower of glows upon her. It might sting but it might also adorn her with the most beautiful of jewels ever created. His face, lean, stern and yet youthful accompanied hers somehow, in a way he had no time to explain to himself before his hand had slowly lifted itself to rest softly against her cheek like a caress from a spring breeze, seizing an emerald green leaf on the boughs of a slender willow. He felt the slight blush as a burning sensation against his palm as he rested it gently against her skin, that beautiful skin, that soft, delicate, wondrous and delicious looking skin. It was like fireworks working against his fingertips as the tossed a strand of her wavy hair away from her face to look closer at her, to survey her, not to deny her, never. He could not. He could not refuse the world that she was beautiful. It would never end a fact as simple as that was not to be ignored. He was on the brink of saying something, anything, but his lips he could not master. There was no word for her or it, whatever "it" was. It was simple and yet complex, like love and hate combined, like jealousy or happiness contained in one masterpiece of art.

His hand moved trough the air towards her, slowly and she had all the time in the world to move away from the hand moving towards her. Yet, she did not, Blaise watched his hand move through the air to rest on her cheek, cold against the burning warmth that had build up on her skin. It felt like being brushed slightly with the tips of a raven feather at first, but became more firm, he held her captivated in his palm, as he looked at her as if she was one of the worlds wonders. Something built up in her throat, making it harder for her to breath, until she just stopped and held her breath. As he had laughed, she had felt a firm warm feeling in her stomach; she had made him laugh, and not an arrogant, better knowing laugh, a real one. The thought made her smile slightly and her eyes went blanc for moments as she shortly reflected on his laugh, concluding she liked it better then the dark laughter from earlier. His voice had felt like a blanket in the coldness of the night, she returned to her self, finding his ice clear eyes resting in her auburn brown. As if the first layer of snow had fallen onto the carpet of golden leafs in the fall, she breathed soundlessly, breathing in that exact moment, wanting to open her mouth to see if she could taste it as well. She didn't though, she merely parted her lips slightly, her eyes distracted by the movement he made with his mouth. As if he was going to speak, she wished he would. Releasing the half awkward, half comfortable scene he had placed them in, but also just to hear that voice again. See if it would have the same calming effect that almost made her brain all fizzy, her sensible side blamed it on his race, vampires do have extraordinary voices to calm their victims with. She wondered. Was she a victim? Had she already been a victim of this warm, yet dark voice? She watched his lips a little, but no sound came, instead she took the time to study his lips, they seem awfully soft and silky, would they be as cold as his fingers that lingered on her cheek? She should have regained herself there, on that spot, she should have shock her head, to make the fuzziness go away, to make it the thrilling sensation of feeling like her feet wasn't in fact on the ground. She stopped breathing shortly again, her lips felt dry, her mouth felt dry and she wanted nothing else then to slide her tongue through her lips, and moist them just a little, but she couldn't bring herself to do so, it was as if her mind had left her body, and she was unable to move, breath, speak or lick her lips. Captivated she was, by his way of looking at her, by his cold fingers against her heated cheeks. Moments that felt like forever flew by.

The scene was captivated. Like a snapshot, a quick flash of a camera could easily have depicted this beautiful scenario and made headlines that could have shaken the basement of the very earth and rock of the world. The misty rain upon her face made her cheeks moistened and his fingers felt it as their trail down across her cheek found a flowing, gliding movement, leaving the skin open to new raindrops. His fingertips ran down along the lines of her jawbone, trailing through a few strands of the wavy hair and guiding them out of the way as they brushed them behind the soft curve of her ear, elven ear almost. She, herself, a sparkling diamond among black charcoal. How had she ended up in a cruel world like this? Was it truly her destiny to die for her human race, to fight for her nation's survival until the very end of her life and the last drop of hers had been spilled on a ground by merciless enemies? He could not believe that it had to be this way; he would refuse to let it end like that no matter what he had to do to prevent it. He smiled still; it was an exact, accurate smile, not an arrogant smirk, not a dangerous, threatening grin, not a soft, emotional smile, merely just a smile, so simple. He heard nothing from her, he felt her heart pounding in her chest, like an eager child jumping up and down almost, catching her breath in her throat. He leaned closer, not menacingly, not threatening, his hand gliding in behind her ear and around her neck where the fingers caressed her skin with ease, avoiding the uncomfortable locks of some tousled strands. His cheek met hers as he stopped the movement, catching her head between his arm and shoulder and his own head. The curtain-like flow in his raven black hair danced down over his shoulders and in front of him as his face came to stop beside hers. His lips strayed over her ear and with a whisper, soft like the black panther's fur, gentle like morning dew sprayed upon emerald grass, sweet like honey and comforting like a mother's embrace, his voice drifted dark and beautiful out into the night: "If you say beauty has many aspects, I believe you are one of the most prominent of them," he said quietly, withdrawing only an inch from her face, feeling a slight breath, warm and wonderful, from her lips, betraying her lungs and slipping out onto his chin like a sweet, sudden caress constantly reminding him who she was and what he was.

Her lips parted a little more as his fingers started moving, as if his very touch had made her heart jump, there was not many moments in her life like these, all she would see was misery and pain, worries, survivors, not living, only breathing. The ironic thing seemed to be that as much as she breathed to keep herself living this life of hers, these moments made her loss her breath. She watched his eyes as he leaned closer, as his fingers moved, she wanted to yelp, she wanted to say something, but it once again seemed caught in her throat. His smile made the tips of her fingers tingle and her heart pound even harder against her chest; his face came very close to hers, as she felt his fingers on her neck, not holding her firmly, just touching her. As a thousand feathers tingled the soft and sensitive skin on her neck, as softly as feathers but was real as the bench under her. Her eyes seemed to be struggling with where to place themselves, he was too close for her to look him in the eye, as his words fell against her ear, she felt a rush making her toes curl slightly, an almost choking breath left her lips, brushing against his chin as the soft mark of a summer wind, lingering in the coolness of the winter. He was so close, so close, had he been human she would have been able to sense his warmth beneath his clothing, as she was sure he could hers. Her mind betrayed her, or it had just left her, she didn't think about the news paper, nor did she give any thought as to why, what and who it was sitting this close to her. She knew who he was, she knew what he was, she didn't know why, but she knew she wouldn't move away, not right now, the moments that felt like forever, had their own sense of being over far too soon.

He watched the lingering hesitation in her eyes, her quivering eyelids, the softness of the rounded eyebrows that did not seem to respond to her astonishment, amusement or whatever feeling that was going through her. His eyes lingered on her face, saw how she watched him, trying to catch just some piece of information about whether he would perhaps kill her or simply fall into a swoon over her. It was not possible to say. Although his hands were cold, cool as he liked to express it, there were still the remnants of blood lingering in his veins after a mortal passing along the way had satisfied his hunger for the night. Now, he felt those remnants of blood pressing here and there, heating his system slowly, digging in around his wrists, neck, temple and chest. It was impossible to tell what was going through his mind. He normally never sought feelings like these, these cosmic movements, were never part of a situation such as this, an occasion in rainy weather, at a pond shore, on a wooden bench, in an autumn night, in a park this desolate and deserted, had it been the Sahara desert. His face was still close to hers, very close, and he knew there was no other way to end this than withdraw further or lean closer. But what could he chose? He did not care for what people would say in case they saw it, he was not certain he would even care if Anna said anything. He tilted his head ever so slowly as his eyes ran from her hazel eyes to her lips, soft, pounding with warmth it seemed, lightly parted to let the breath escape. He wanted to lean closer, it was impossible to resist that urge, the urge he felt so deep within that it almost hurt his insides. Slowly, ever so slowly, holding his breath at bay, he leaned closer to her face and finally he felt his lips fasten upon hers, not craving, not desiring, but gently, firmly, massaging them. Their sweetness was like that of the softest fragrance of jasmine and rhododendron, and how he felt the blood under the skin almost pulsate against his as his hand around her neck tightened gently in its grip and his fingers stroked her warm skin underneath the wavy strands of auburn brown hair.

Blaise could feel his body growing warmer every now and again, though she told her self it was just her imagination, she watched him, watching her. As if she could see a perfect reflection of her self in his eyes, he was so close, that was all she could think about. Was he going to kiss her? She exhaled silently as her eyes wandered his pale skin, white like milk, or snow even. Her mind that wandered far and near, currently circled the thought of a kiss from him, what would he taste like? Blood? She hoped not. Somehow she could imagine him tasting like a creamy vanilla ice dessert; maybe it was his pale skin that gave her that impression. He didn't seem hungry, she noted, not hungry for her, not hungry for blood, he didn't seem as he craved and desired her or her blood, he seemed to admire her as something precious, something he could easily break. Moments ago reality had slipped out of her mind, as it suddenly rushed back to her, she could feel the bench beneath her, the ground under her feet, though her senses seemed overly sensitive, as if the whole world suddenly had decided to turn everything up. The sent of wet grass tingled her nose, along with Matthews undeniable sent, the sound of the rain - that for once didn't seem to hit the ground, but gracefully landed, as if it had planed just where it would connect with the grounds - against the ponds steamy reflection, she became aware of her hands that were resting in her lap, it seemed as if the thousand little distractions had kept her mind away till she suddenly felt something, something so pure, so sweet, that it shattered her very insides; his lips against hers. They were just as soft as they had looked, her pulse rose quickly, as her brown eyes fell closed. Her eyelids brushing against his cheek. Her head was tilted slightly backwards, since he was taller than she. Her breathing stopped, as did the distractions, they simply went away as her fingers lifted - almost by themselves - to clinch around the shirt he was wearing. His lips massaged hers making a thrilling sensation curse through her veins, she didn't hesitate returning the kiss. She returned the gentle movements against his lips, while her fingers held tightly around their hold. The odd things were that his lips didn't seem to taste like blood at all, they tasted like something indescribable, something that made her heart skips.

It was painful, undeniably, excitingly painful, that exceeding little sting of beauty he felt at a situation like this, a sparkling desire and yet the wish to keep her intact, like he was holding the finest china in his hands, precious, antique, undeniably irreversible if broken. He felt her fingertips against his skin as they clenched his shirt, the collar itself getting tousled and slightly loosened at her almost fierce and yet gentle grip. His hand held her head steady as he felt the wavy strands of her auburn brown hair tickled the back of his hand with an indescribable thrill that rose all the way from his hand and to his neck where his system made it to register the thrill like a chill causing goose bumps to appear on his arms underneath his shirt sleeves. He smiled what little smile was possible in the kiss, feeling every broken inch of her veins collide with her skin, causing her to heat like a radiator or a flame caught within a glass container. His other arm slowly surrounded her shoulders from the other side, dragging her in to an embrace while the tip of his tongue released itself from his mouth and darted out to slightly caress her beautiful lips. Their taste was so sweet, soft, candy-like and yet with a firm scent he could not place. It was a wonder, like he held the consistence of a fairytale in his arms, and he had to tell the story, he had to tell what lay beyond his movements and what he felt. Few moments it had taken for them to move were like light-years. They had been skipping down the road of the Milky way for an age, eternal it seemed. Ironically enough, he thought, as he remembered the beginning of their conversation in the first place. He had never found out what it was she would not have done as she had walked past him while he was resting thoughts. How come a stroll in the park always ended up like this?
He pressed her closer up against him, not threatening, not leaning too hard against her as he felt the small lines of blood follow his systems reaction pattern deep down somewhere in his stomach. His fingers curled around her wavy hair as his arm tugged harder at her, beckoning her to come closer, to become one with him, to savour the splendour he felt pulsating through him. He let a slight sigh escape his lips and it entered her mouth somehow, letting her know how wonderful he felt. The power of desire was racing through him and his eyelids trembled.

She felt the desire cursing through him, somehow it entered her body making her hips twist slightly, the sensation of his lips made her shiver as she felt them part. Her breath, that she already had held back for quite sometime, flowed out as a soft warmth wind brushing against his face. Blaise felt like very thing right was placed beneath the kiss, he wasn't going to harm her, he wouldn't. She didn't feel as small and fragile as he felt her in his arms, she felt larger than that. Like she could do anything! She trembled slightly as his tongue caressed her lips, making the kiss a little moist. If she parted her lips slightly more, she'd be able to taste him even better, a ball of urgent pleasure fluttered in her stomach making her ache to be near him. As if he had heard the thoughts, he drew her closer, the way his arms wrapped around her, she didn't feel trapped. She didn't feel threatened. She felt safe somehow. His fingers in her hair, holding her steady, she was sure that if he had not held her like that, her body would have shivered and trembled with the pleasure of his tongue. She felt his tongue slide in between hers as she felt the need to express a moan from the pleasure he was showing her, the breath of air, his breath of air, brushing against her mouth, made the moan escape. It was a fragile, small moan, just parting her lips enough to give his tongue full access to her cave, letting his tongue inside her mouth as her fingers curled even more around his shirt, just from his taste, the kiss became slightly more pressing as she wanted to satisfy his desire to be as close to her as he could be, letting her body press against his. The kiss would bruise her lips, and leave them swollen and warm, panting probably as well. Her tongue brushed against his, as if playing a soft game, she was playing this game with him, with his tongue, that giving her an amount of pleasure that amazed her.

Her parting lips sent a shiver of desire coursing through him as his arms wrapped around her began slowly to guide her down on the bench. His fingers splayed over her back to hold her steady made her shirt curl up between them as her weight slowly came down and finally rested against the bench. Her brown hair fell away from her head in a fan-like movement and his lips fastened upon hers. The power of desire was so indulging and undeniably as strong as the power of destruction, yet desire would always result in something, something so pure and blissful like this, a beautiful sensation heating what was able to be heated in the cold vampire body of his. His black hair glided down and provided an unintentional but fairly good shield to prevent onlookers from seeing what truly happened. His kiss and the movements of his head following his massaging lips and his tongue's trail through her mouth, caressing her tongue, exploring her lips, could for all it mattered look like the small movements of a vampire feeding on a victim. He straightened a bit, stretching his legs to provide him with some stability holding the kiss and himself above her. His lips were fastened on hers, never letting go, never wanting to let go and miss out a moment like this.

Blaise eyes fluttered open as he laid her gently down on the wooden bench, her slightly damp auburn curls either clung to her heated cheeks or fell backwards, surrounding her head as a perfect frame to her world. His raven coloured hair that flung around his face, now and again brushing against her neck, making her swallows slightly. Her mind didn't wander beyond the sensation of his touches. The taste was something like sweet wine, she realized as her eyelashes battered slightly, a round taste, sweet and almost innocent, his tongues hunt, its exploring touch, became answered with the same passion as he had showed her. Her fingers no longer clinching around his shirt, but moving, caressing, touching, feeling, every inch of him that her almost curious fingers could reach. Her tongue lingered at the taste of his lips, as his tongue slid down hers, she brought the kiss even closer, letting her own warm tongue part the silky lips of his, welcoming the thrilling sensation that cursed through her. This was a mere kiss, but calling it mere didn't seem fair, for it was not. The universe existed on the concept of that kiss. Her legs were slightly spread, making room for him to rest on the bench as well, her hips at times brushing against his, shortly removing her focus from her hands and kiss each time, giving him time to shortly think before she regained her focus.

It was like handling a vivid dream among passionate desires. Exploitation of the human body was open, like she gestured to him that he could almost do anything to her, and yet he would not. He could not allow his mind to use her. There was something so innocent about the situation, about their state of being. His revelation of his thoughts, her silent listening, and the simple comment he had made on her beauty had made them skip across waters and worlds to come to rest like this, on a bench, warm and entangled, like vines crawling iron fences, entangled within each other, never wanting to let go again. If the vines had flowers, it had to be their touches, if the vines had leaves, it had to be their sighing breath that escaped now and then when their lips twisted around the others and a moan was let out through the nostrils. Her warm tongue collided with his in a gentle sort of game. When the kiss would stop did no good know, all he knew was that for the sake of the world and the universe, he had to hold on and not open his eyes and look up and around them, seeing the facts that he so loved to point out to himself.
Slowly, steadily, he lowered his body down upon hers. His hips leaned against hers, not in a hard, desires way, but cautious and calm. He felt how every inch of his body's muscles moved as if in a chain-reaction from the kiss, how his hands around her waist drew themselves away from her back and to her sides where the one of them slowly glided upwards over her shirt resting with a gentle caress from his palm over her soft, not yet fully developed breast. He felt the satin-like nipple under the cloth, like a soft spot on her body, and slowly circulating his hand over her breast, his tongue catching hers in the kiss, he felt wonderful, perfect, at ease with this grim desire, sinister satisfaction and yet truly innocent surrender to lust and passion that he knew filled both of them.

Her soft skin almost curled under his touch, sending shivers down her spine in the most pleasant way she had ever felt. It wasn't shivers of cold, like when she had been training out side with far too little clothes on and Goosebumps would appear all over her skin, no this was different, much different. It made every small hair on her body stand and she was very aware of each place his fingers touched her, a nervousness settled in her stomach, she had taken good care of herself a certainly wasn't naive. As his fingers brushed over the sensitive skin on her stomach as exhaled almost sharply through her noose, the soft warm breath lingering against his features. She tensed a little underneath him, she was by any means an untouched piece of art, and unopened bottle of vine, that had lingered on its shelf and saved it self for just a moment like this. As his fingertips stroked against her nipple, she whimpered softly against his lips, her fingers shortly stopping their trace down his spine. "Matthew.." she whispered, shortly breaking the kiss, her eyes still closed almost in a relaxed state. Her lips still touching his as she whispered, her breath tingling his soft lips, her lips were bruised by the passionate kiss, swollen and almost as burning warm as her flushed cheeks. "What are we doing..?" the question it self was simple, the answer on the other hand.. She had never done such a thing before, such sensations were new to her and she wasn't quite sure she could forget he was a vampire long enough for him to be her very first. She was nervous and slightly scared, not of him, but what he created in her, a new kind of hunger that wouldn't go away and kept her longing for his lips when the kiss had broken. She could feel every inch of him, pushed against her, and she was sure he had to be able to her heart pounding madly in her chest.

Her words, whispers almost, caught a scene in his head; leaving her there, deciding not to go through with what was on his mind, brushing a strand of hair away from his face as he sat upright again, correcting his collar and darting eye contact with her, telling her that he had things to see to and that he sincerely did apologize for his unreasonable behaviour. But as their lips skidded against each other while she spoke, and his eyelashes trembled while the quivering lids opened slightly to look down at her face where her cheeks showed blossom of a rosy blush as well as her hair that clung to her raindrop moistened forehead he decided not to do that. He looked down at her beautiful hazel eyes, still lowered. The pause was simple and he kissed her cheek instead of her lips, a cautious and calming kiss. His hand's circulation over her breast had stopped as well and a slight furrow was visible on his brow. "Shh, it'll be fine," he answered her whisper and his voice almost hit against her ear in that soft, delicate tone he used to hush anyone scared or uneasy down with. His hand resting at her stomach caressed her to calm her down and he felt his black hair glide down a few strands over her face as he slowly lifted his head back to kiss her warm lips against. He put in a slight pressure against her hips to let her know that he at least would not have anything to regret, and that he would take her all the way, gently and kindly. He broke the kiss shortly. "Don't worry," he spoke softly to her again and opened his eyes a tiny bit more while feeling the desire still run through him, tying a knot in his stomach, pressing down through his belly.

Her eyes fluttered slightly as his lips stroked her cheek, his voice easily removed the nervousness that had collected it self in her stomach, and her body relaxed once again as she briefly exhaled a sigh contentedly. She surrendered to the touch of his hands on her stomach, as the light pressure of his lips returned to hers, her pulse rushing through her veins. Her fingers started to travel once again, slipping down his back to rest on his waist and hips, she felt something like a pulse coming from him, something that was alive with the moment. A smile flashed shortly on her lips, she wasn't going to let him have her mouth for much longer, as she let go, not to say something, but to run the tip of her soft, warm tongue down his neck, she titled her head a little and followed the moist line she had made with slightly trembling lips till she found the perfect spot, letting her lips cover the skin to simply taste it, suck in slightly. As a response to his pressure on her hips, she twisted slightly, not moving, just rubbing her hips against his, her flush slightly building up as she felt the weight of his downer regions. It was not embarrassment that had made her cheeks that crimson colour, but simply some of the heat that was building up inside her, reflecting on her outside. Her mind slipped back to its dreamy state as her tongue started massaging his soft skin, brushing, teasing it with its warmth. She could feel how his hair caressed her face, stroking softly against her features. Her fingers started looking for some bare skin, finding it just below his shirt, they slipped under in a slow movement that left him unaware of their presence till her finger tips started feeling the skin just above his hipbones, stroking it, just feeling how he felt against them, memorising it.

He felt her tongue play along the line of his soft skin. It was undeniably the most wonderful sensation he could feel. His hand, that had rested on her breast travelled down her belly and slipped in underneath her shirt to crawl up the warm skin, its course set to find its way back to her breast where he now clearly felt the compelling urge from the slightly stiff nipple against his palm. She was burning, not feverishly but excessively. He felt her tense slightly, or whatever she did, as she pressed herself against his hips, and the pressure building inside of him was taking control of his actions now as he felt his lips betray him and go wandering in courses over her face as if he wanted to swallow her whole. His other hand glided down her stomach and settled somewhere near her hipbone. Her fingers trailing upwards, finding the small unevenness of his spine, were like glows spraying over his skin.

Blaise moaned softly against the sensitive skin, trying to strangle the noise by increasing the passion within her lips, which only made the urgent feeling that spread through her body, move faster. She moved her fingers past his hips and let her fingertips stroke against the skin on his stomach, as she moved her fingers towards the centre of his stomach, teasing the skin with fingers that seemed to know what they were doing all by themselves. Her teeth barely touched the feel of his skin, realizing she enjoyed teasing him a great deal. The pressure of theirs hips, pushed ever so closely together didn't sees at any moment. Her nails caressing along with her fingertips, though she didn't know they flicked across his skin. She lifted one of her legs a little as she laid it crossing over the back of his thighs, drawing them even closer together.

Her fingers were like long lines of flames covering his skin from one part to another. Her moan was like a sounds cape mingled with the silent rain pouring down harder on them. His hair was soaking wet, as was his shirt. He had left his coat, why on earth had he left it in the car? He could have sworn he had decided to put it on before stepping out of that car and walking towards the park, but no, there was no coat to prevent the rain from stinging his clothes, drenching him as well as his cold skin. His fingers went haywire around her nipple, tossing and turning it, gently and yet with a riveting river of pleasure accompanying his movements. The pressure building in his stomach begun forcing its way downwards slowly, urging forth a strain below his belt. He had to grit his teeth tightly and a slight, dark, soft moan escaped his lips as her fingers played over his skin, teasing and playful. Was she a virgin? She'd got to be. Her slight nervous half-rejection of him had been enough for him to see that, but that meant too that he had to go steady and slow. His kisses fell over her cheek and followed the line of her jaw down to the hollow beneath her ear where his tongue played with the silk-soft earlobe.

Although Matthew was shielding her a little from the rain, his wet body pressed against her made her clothes wet as well. Her breathing fell faster after holding her breath shortly, only far too aware of what his fingers were doing on her chest, her breath flowing quicker against his pale skin. A low whimper escaped her again, she moved her lips, as her fingers kept on the centre of his stomach not daring to come near the pressure from under his belt. She inhaled deeply to keep from blushing even more. The raindrops didn't feel cold to her anymore, they felt like soundless, gently touches from the sky, they cooled her down. Her breath was visible in the air, soft, hot clouds dancing in the air. Her hair was soaked and had taken the colour of dark, bittersweet chocolate, as it dripped slowly. Her clothes just as trippingly wet as her hair, it was cold out side and she'd probably catch a chill, but she didn't seem to care.

He felt her breath against him, small sprays of warmth from her slightly parted lips. It must have been blessings from an angel, her body beneath him was like a tantalizing, wondrous creation. His hand kept steady on her breast, not missing an inch of the warm skin while he listened to the almost shivering, trembling breaths she drew to keep her just slightly calm although he knew it was hopeless at some point. Her fingers pressing against his stomach seemed like another factor urging the pressure in him downwards, clenching inside of him, straining more and more. As she did not react, his hand at her hipbone slowly glided downwards over her thigh, finding a line on the inside of it and slowly slipping up, finding its way over her clothes, making sure the friction proclaimed a slight hint of a caress against her skin while his fingers caught in like a hook around the lining of her belt which he slowly, ever so gently began loosening.

Blaise eyes quivered slightly in the excitement that rose through her as his fingers trailed the friction of her jeans, she couldn't help but curse the jeans far away, wishing his finger to trail her skin instead of the layer just above it. To encourage his touch, her fingers slid ever so slowly, feeling every little muscle under his skin, towards the pressure building up inside his pants. As his lips closed around her earlobe, she brushed her teeth against the sensitive skin, aching harder for his touch. Her fingers meet the coldness of his belt as the began releasing the strain in his pants, slowly and a bit held back at first, her wonderful warm fingers slid into pants, sliding straight under his underwear as well. She smiled slightly as her teeth locked around the sweet, soft skin on his neck, not biting down too hardly, just enough for him to be able to feel it, be distracted by it, as her fingers started curiously feeling the hardness down there, caressing it momentarily, her warm, wet palm slid against the shaft as she inhaled a fresh breath of air while memorising the feeling. Something inside her reacted very strangely towards the feel of it, feeding the hungry desire that lay within her. Her other hand kept moving caressingly around his belt area, her short but still scratchy nails scraping slightly against his skin as a distraction as well. Her teeth never let go of the skin they had caught, her tongue massaging against it as she breathed onto him, her breath only stopped for a few seconds as his finger trailed upwards. The amassment, his reactions, gave her more courage to try things out, touch, suck, lick, and linger by. As if she was being thought a whole new feeling, a new sensation, she had always been eager to learn.

Her fingers were like small flames licking up around his already half-hard sex, and a low moan kept at bay escaped his lips, soft and dark, feeling the tension building inside. His fingers loosened her belt and pushed off her jeans as well as her underwear, exposing her nakedness to the cold air around them. Her lips against the tender skin on his neck was like billowing waves crashing inside of him while the warmth is going higher and higher up the scale. His hand played with the soft hair between her legs, feeling the moist heat while his lips began searching down her neck, sucking, licking, kissing. Never biting. He knew how fatal that would be if he allowed the urge to come alive. He felt the blood rushing through her veins as his lips crossed the skin, gently and kind.

Blaise ached her back slightly, pushing her hips further against his, gasping moan escaping her almost trembling lips. Every touch felt like.. An enormus feast, after two weeks of starving, rain after a dry-heat, it felt like the time she had gone dancing barefooted in the rain, feeling every little inch of her getting soaked, dripping. She welcomed the slight wind against her exposed skin, as she felt like fire was tingling trough her system, corrupting it in such a way that it twisted the world she had known as real for so long. Her fingers stroked down his hardening sex, eager to please him, she wanted to. His low moans only made her fingers seek out more spots she liked touching, letting the tip of a finger tease the tip of his sex, while the other hand, centred around his stomach, began traveling upwards, caressing every inch of his upperbody on its way up. She could've purred as his silky lips marked her neck as she had claimed his, she had once heard a friend of her talk about this as dancing a-like, if she had to speak of this as a dance, it'd be a slow dance, wricking and turning, pushing your hips slightly against your partner. He was teaching her how to dance real slow, and she was eager to learn.

Every inch of him she touched, every move she made against him; every breath she seemed to break with her lungs combined some line from her to him as he felt her wriggle slightly underneath him. It was impossible for him to ignore the exploring feeling that ought to have set her aflame while feeling his caresses. She was almost struggling against him, pushing and tossing and turning on the hard layer of the bench. His fingers collided with the soft, moist skin between her legs and started travelling down slightly, finding the centre, shoving its way forth ever so gently until he found the little opening that he knew so well. Incomprehensibly, he knew that he was somehow breaking the habit that he had gone through so many times. What made her the exception that he saw better than the boys he usually went to? He had no idea, let alone any faint comprehension of what he actually was doing. All he knew was that it was right. It felt so basically right that it was hard to conceive.
His fingertip urged itself slowly into her. He felt the light snare around it. Yes, she was a virgin. He kissed her neck softly as his mind began concentrating on his hand and what he had to do as it slowly slipped further and further into her, gentle and kind, never rushing, only to please. Her caresses against himself were getting him haywire, and he knew, for all that mattered, that he would soon have to push off his pants completely if he was going anywhere.

Blaise laid still for a few moments that past by as if it were forever, her breathing almost stopped as his fingers slid against her and began traveling inside her. Her mouth was open against his neck as small whimpers flew out on soft wings that gently brushed past his ear, a maddening feeling centred around her waist and down, had he not been laying on top of her, she would have twisted and turned teen times as madly as she did, driven insane by each inch his finger went deeper into her. It didn't hurt in the way, not as when she had cut herself making dinner, it wasn't followed with pain, just a stretching feeling, as if he was pushing back a part of her, trying to penetrate her from the inside. Her fingers almost stopped their movement as she gasped slightly for air, she felt like her lungs wouldn't accept the oxygen she was desperately trying to feat them with. She couldn't keep her eyes closed, had a hard time closing them even to blink, causing her eyes to be hit by a few raindrops that tickled down her flushed cheeks, cooling them a bit. Her hazel coloured eyes seemed not to see anything, she could might as well have been seeing tiny little white spots instead of having the gift of vision, but she was. Only, this was the stars she could see, it was dark, cold and drippingly wet around them. He seemed to be her shelter, kept the rain from coming down on her, ironically he also kept her warm, though, the darkness he didn't seem to protect her from. He almost drew it to them, as if he was the darkness source of power.

He felt her fingers going on a break and he shortly closed his eyes, still feeling their paused movements like a vibration going over his skin. His hand that had been crossing her breast now left it and deserted her body to slowly push off the lining edge of his clothes, urging them down, not in a fast and eager way but in a calm and sophisticated manner that showed extraordinary overview of the situation. He smiled and kissed her neck again and again, feeling that slight, unnoticeable hint of his breath going against her skin as he forced down his pants, exposing his skin to the cold, which, for him, was not actually cold. He made it easier for him to move and for her fingers to move as well. His hand in between her legs rubbed with soft, agitating movements against the tender skin on the outside while the finger crossing the slight snare, digging in gently, followed the small movements of anticipation. It was like he was teaching her to dance, explaining the movements before they would have to go on the stage and dance for tens of thousands of people. His other hand steadied itself, leaning on his elbow beside her head, the fingers brushing over her hair in a calming way to let her know that everything was all right and that it would not hurt the slightest bit if she kept calm and relaxed. The coldness of the world around them hit in on his skin, and where her fingers did not trail their movements along his sex, getting ready to replace his hand's position. His lips kissed her neck again, stroking along the sensitive skin, feeling the pulse go haywire almost.

Blaise sucked in a breath that went all the way through her body, she could feel his fingers and how his arm flexed slightly, she knew what was going to happen, or she thought she did. Or course she had heard of the dance, spoken of the dance, even taken a few steps in the dance by her self, but she had never danced it with a partner. Her opening tensed slightly around his fingers, as she became more moist, a slightly louder moan escaped her lips again as her breathing finally caught up, making her pant slightly, her breath fast but steady. His hand that dug into her brown hair and the reassurance that was placed in the action, made the tension around his fingers relax again. Her eyes fell closed as a pleasurable gasp made its way through her hot lips, her fingers flinched slightly as they started moving once again, she didn't want to be the totally submissive part of the dance, letting her fingers trail his length delicately.

Her fingertips glided along his skin. It was like sensing a ballerina's feet across a stage, listening to the tapping of those clay-socketed shoes in the deepest of silent audiences. He sighed heavily, a breath that hit her ear and the small tensions around his finger drew it closer in although he started drawing it out, compelling it to meet the cold air again after having had a lovely time exploring her soft, delicious inside. His fingers slowly parted her legs even more to let room for him, and gently pushed her hand off his sex as he felt the tip of it meet the moist, tender skin between her legs as well as the opening he had left prepared for his entrance. "Just relax," he whispered in her ear and kissed her cheek again while steadying his sex with one hand and the rest of his weight on the elbow beside her head before a little thrust of his hips slowly guided him less than an inch into her, feeling the snare and the strain around him as he caught a moan in his throat from the feverishly exciting feeling that came as the tense opening scraped over the head of his sex, almost eating it like a delicate dish.

Clinched teeth, rubbing against each other, exposed skin gloving slightly from sweat and raindrops, dripping water from trembling body parts, an hissing outlet of breath resembling the pleasure that shuttered trough her. Every time his hand went over or through her hair, she relaxed a little bit more, the feel of him pushing just a bit into her made it hard not to make louder noises then the gasps and moans she had already expressed. Her legs shock slightly, thighs trembling against his hips. She bit her lip as she exhaled slowly, as his moan hit her ear making her eyelashes vibrate, his breath made her shiver slightly as she swallowed hard. To his whisper she only replied; "God..." followed by a slight whimper.

The rain suddenly seemed to clear off or else he was hallucinating due to the pressure of warmth in around him as he pushed and shoved. It was calm at first, slow and gentle, but as well as he knew the gentleness and kindness of his moves, it would never hurt to add up a slight tempo, actually the quite opposite. As he glided inch by inch into her and finally felt his hips against hers, he started drawing out again, feeling how the soft, sensitive skin outside scraped against his sex as it slowly withdrew only to shortly settle itself before going in again in a deeper thrust. Small, dark moans pressed at his throat for each movement he did and his black hair wiping against her face and neck. His fingers entangled themselves in her hair and he closed his eyes as his other hand steadied her on her hipbone, his fingers caressing her soft skin over her hip. His lips contracted slightly as the warmth from the building, excessive, deep throttle of the pleasure began racing in him accompanying the movements of his body. It could have been magic. No, it was magic.

The world shattered and trembled along with the faint picture of reality, a mere dream or perhaps even a dream in a dream, for this could never be real. It should never be this real, though, his drenched raven coloured locks teasing against her neck, sliding over her closed eyes as the sweetest caress, barely touching her heated lips as had it been a stolen kiss ever so light, falling on her noose, between her gasps she wondered if she would have been able to smell it. What would its sent be like? Her mind lingered on the thought as her body winched and moaned. The concept of reality seemed split into two parts. The first part a captivating sensation of pure pleasure and completeness, those jolts of bliss was unlike anything she had ever felt before, this part of her mind refused to see him as a vampire, it could not accept the fact that a vampire would bring her so much pleasure. It saw him as only a man, nothing more, nothing less. So simple, yet so complicated, she could see why people fell addicted to this. It was beautiful, natural. The second part confused her, so she ignored it, this part of reality told her it was cold and raining, she was on a bench with a vampire she hardly knew. This part only had a few seconds of control the first time he filled her, the pain had almost made her scream, she had bitten her bottom lip so hard the skin had broken, making a little of her red blood fill her mouth, a metallic, raw taste that made her shiver. His sensitive thrusts quickly made the first part win the battle, as she submitted to it. Only allowing one tear to slip down her cheek, but it was quickly washed away by the rain. Life ended and began there; leaving her in a state she was unsure of, her physical-self moaned against him, her thighs shivered as he moved, but she did not refuse him the room he demanded. The crimson colour that covered most of her fair exposed skin was symbols of the heat that built up inside her. What a delightful yet torturing heat, she needed to release it or she was going to end up burning, at least, that's how she felt. Moans were not effective enough, nor were any other sound she could make, this feeling was just too.. powerful. His fingers grip, her hair tangled around his fingers as if it were trying to captivate him there, auburn locks locked softly around his elegant fingers. Her hands rested on his torso, when the second part of her reality had kicked in, she had wanted to push him away, but the feeling of rejection fell powerless and left her hands slightly, ever so slightly, pushed up against him, one hand placed where a pounding heart should have been, the other placed on his rips above a lounge that no longer needed to breath. As if she almost expected this to bring him back to life, this sensation made the use of words unfair, not even bliss could describe it fairly, so she would not. Right now she chose to follow the night, as she could not stand the light.

Whatever her hand on his chest meant, he had no intentions to follow its slight press, urging him the tiniest bit back from her. He felt her caresses, they were like a shower of gold, and he had no means other than following his instincts, pressing in slightly harder each time. He bent down and kissed away the little tear that had gathered in the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek. He hushed her down as he slowed down a bit to let the sensation of lust settle in her again and make her remember the bliss that followed each movement. He felt it like a wave through her nerve system, an aching, a trembling, like an earthquake just before the volcano exploded. His hands flowed through her hair, entangling themselves but also memorizing her calmness as he carried on, no less powerful, but still gentle. He knew the flower had to be picked sooner or later, and whatever pressure he was setting in, it was soon to come, a light snare around his sex that was breaking slowly to his movements. He leaned down and kissed her chin and neck to let her know that everything was ok and that this was just the beginning to a new life beyond her mortal conception. It might be a dream as well, and reality, as it was, drenched cold and rainy outside their little vacuum of time and emotions, had no hurry. At least he had not. Except remembering that he had to go home at some time. He quickly pushed the thoughts aside as he felt another light moan escape his lips once again, his breath brushing against her ear and he dug slightly further into her, still gentle but at the same time powerful and unsettling. The sensations within were simply so big they could possibly not be contained within his body forever, and he knew. Just as well as she probably did.

A tight hot feeling went trough her in tire system, the feeling of loosing all control of her body made her mind shiver as her flesh tightened around his sex, as he went deeper and deeper inside her, rubbing against nerves that made her body shake or tremble. She felt like a rock under and earthquake, crumbling from the inside, her whimpers grew louder as her moans grew faster. Her fingers moved as her arms flew around his chest, barely reaching each other in a tight grip, fingers locked around his wet shirt, almost tearing it apart, as were wings breaking through the soft fabric. A soft sound, like a thousand tunes being played in a never known symphony, erupted from her lips as he hit the nerves just right, collecting all the heat inside her to her stomach, every muscle in the slim girl tensed as her mouth flew open. Lightning was striking, lava was erupting, the earth rumbled and caved, walls were broken, somewhere music was playing, oxygen escaped her, title waves were hitting cliffs, snow was falling, rain was purring, sun was shining, fire was burning, oxygen, oxygen, oxygen! A loud gasp finally filled her lounges with air as her back ached her body, her fingers clinging to him for dear life, her head thrown back as the stretch of her neck was perfectly revealed. She felt like screaming, though her teeth close bit on her lip held it back, though the teeth dug into her swollen bottom lip, she felt no pain, numbed by the dominating feeling of pure, real bliss.

The tightness of her, the convulsive effect his last thrusts had applied to her, snared in around him and set a fire to the pressure, almost erasing his vision as pleasure streamed through him, he did not stop his movements as the few seconds of eternal, full satisfaction simply drew him to the edge of death and life, seeing the world in a perspective he knew he could only have whenever he looked this way, whenever he was as he was now, full, complete, incarnated into life and death at the same time. His fingers held tight to her hair, though not tearing at it, it simply tug harder and he bit his lip as he heard the last agonizing moan escape his lips before he took full force of the pleasure and felt it stream materialistically out of him, into her, a warm, settling, deep feeling, controlled and yet held back by reins unseen to human hands. He still moved to give her the last drops of sweet satisfaction, the satisfaction he knew almost could go on for hours on end with girls like this.