《The Urge to Devour》23
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Eleanor
His sheets are still satin, I sigh, sitting up. Alastair stared out the window of his brownstone. He looks exactly the same. Dark eyes. Long blonde hair. The elegant way he does everything.
I think he was a noble when he was young. Before...but he doesn't talk about that. Won't speak on it.
He glanced back at me, noting my awareness.
"It's not my castle but..." he motioned around the room, "Will it do?"
I follow his lead looking around. Wood floors, expensive, heated I think. Shag rug, and these sheets. Well, he always had expensive taste.
I put my arms over my knees, my back against the headboard.
"Does it have a library?" I muse, running my fingers along the sheets.
He scoffs. "Mh. I also bought a bookstore. Just..." he trials off and I don't bother to follow up.
I love Alastair, but I'm not sure why. I think I'm cursed to. I think he's ruined my mind and heart. Ruined me.
He said that he would.
"Let us marry, Eleanor," he says quietly, watching the moon. I run my hands through my curls.
The moon lights up his face, it's screwed in a slight wince, his blonde hair falling into his eyes. He's gorgeous, really. Like a doll.
"You mustn't attempt to refuse me," he continues at my silence. He's a man at war with time. I've made it worse.
He's reverting. His speech, anyway.
"Mustn't I?"
He turns around. "Why do you resist me so? What do you find so utterly lacking?"
It's a good question. Rich, pretty, good in bed. A little demanding but for a centuries old vampire, I suppose it's to be expected.
I think I've spent so long trying to avoid it. Whatever these feelings are. Or history is so distorted, and I barely remember what happened before I turned.
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I just remember him, really. Grinning at me. In my shop.
"I don't know," I whisper. "I think...giving into you, is giving up on myself."
"You must be starving," He remarks softly, his accent thickening as he continues to speak. "What can I get you?"
I look away. I don't look forward to meal times as much anymore.
"Oh...that's right," he murmurs. "We have blood reserves in the fridge. Not as good as warm fresh blood, but none of the ethical issues,"
He leans on his walking stick. I never knew whether it was for fashion or function, but knowing him, it's the former.
"Or you can drink from me to tide you over," he pulls his hair back, revealing his neck, angling it towards me, sitting next to me.
I look at the pale stripe of flesh. "Why are you offering me this?"
He stops, looking at me. "You haven't eaten."
I sigh, putting my face into the sheet. He sighs, putting his hands on my arms, coaxing me out of the covers.
"Eleanor," he coaxes, pulling me close. "You must be starving, dearest. Don't starve yourself."
I sigh. He does smell good. My fangs sink down.
"I..." he pulls me even closer. He always enticed me, pulls me toward sun. Either way, he's too pretty to resist, so I sunk my fangs into his neck.
He moans softly, stroking my hair. "There, isn't that better, dearest?"
It does. His blood doesn't fill me with as much energy, but it's taste is sweet. I wrap my hand around his neck, pulling him closer, sinking deeper into him.
"Are you here for my body?" I say, as I retract my fangs.
He blinks. "Yes."
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I lean back. All this for something as simple as sex. It seems...irrational.
"I told you, I loved you Eleanor," he touched the wound on his neck as it closes. "You seem to think I'm lying."
He rubs the back of his neck. "No matter. You're an intelligent woman, Eleanor, rather objective. You stand to gain everything from me. Didn't you swear to rob me of everything I had?"
Did I? Maybe I did once. I look away. "Suppose you're right, Alastair. There's no need...to fight anymore."
He paused. "You're not well...are you dear?"
What an elegant way to put it. Very Alastair. All dressed and pretty way to say it. I am not...well.
I don't like...the way I am now.
He raised his brows, looking down. I guess I said that outloud, I look away.
"I mean—"
"I don't either," he looks away, bitterly. "I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I don't like it. What I've become. But...nothing can my existence now."
He grins softly. "I've tried everything from every story. Poison. Stakes. Crosses. Garlic. Staying out in the sun. Guns, silver, I stood in the wake of the atom bomb and I...walked home."
His smile falls for a moment before he tries again, giving me a soft smile. "You must know I didn't wish it for you, Eleanor. I wanted you to go in peace. That...was my biggest sacrifice. Because every day feels like hell with you."
His eyes meet mine. "And yet, I could not bear to put you in that hell as well. There's nothing more I can sacrifice. I have given it all."
He puts his hand on my head, kissing me softly.
"But you're here now."
Yes. I'm here now. And I am forever his prey. And maybe that's exactly what I wanted. Maybe I hate myself more than I hate him.
Maybe I don't hate him at all.
I collapse back on the bed, touching my head.
He chuckles. "Well don't be so sad, dear. There's a bright new world out there. But...unfortunately, before I let you back out into it, I need you to answer something for me."
I look over at him. His eyes seem to glow with rage.
"Who turned you?"
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