Watching the flames in the fireplace, Brit blushed slightly thinking of Ethan leaning forward to whisper a comment against her lips before placing a soft kiss. He then kissed her chin and her throat, and then he placed another on her neck before opening his mouth wider and biting down on the skin. She could hear soft pops as his fangs sank deep through the layers of her flesh. Pressing her against the wall, he trapped her with his hands and body weight ensuring no possibility of her breaking free while he gulped her vitae. She could hear it being pulled from her. After regaining her bearings, she closed her eyes losing herself to the intense sensation.
As she watched the flames, her heartbeat started to race at the memory of the night just as it did while he drank from her enjoying the adrenalin rush that flavored her blood in a way he found pleasing. He drank until she felt dizzy, and then licked his lips clean and ensured that her wounds had closed. Brit stroked his cheek as he grinned at her saying nothing. Quietly, they simply stayed close until he pierced his lip before leaning closer for a different kind of kiss. Her body’s response to the taste of the powerful blood was immediate. She felt stronger. Her thoughts were strangely clear. Blinking up at him, she realized how very beautiful he was, and she wondered if the blueness was always in his black hair. She could smell the ocean and contrasted it with the salty-vanilla scent of her own skin. The night seemed clearer and she could hear the rustling of their clothing. It had happened before, but she associated the clarity and enhanced senses with the blood on his lips and pressed against him in return as she sucked softly on his lower lip until he pulled away.
She tried to follow him but he spun her toward the wall and pressed against her again biting into her neck again. This time, he took only unimportant amounts of blood but focused on feeling her skin part. Letting his fangs slide in and out of her neck…savoring the taste…..
“Brit?” The voice blinked her out of her memory and she noticed the library had become quite full. Merma, Poncho, then Neri, Omega, Larissa and Nareth. Denny entered. Nareth had said that she had bought a dress. Brit and others asked to see it. Nareth looked lovely, but Denny’s focus seemed to be on Brit. “He’s taking too much,” Denny muttered. Then a few minutes later, he added, “I miss the colorful dresses too.” The newspaper he was reading rustled. Others talked and admired Nareth’s dress. Some started to pay attention to Denny as he continued, “Around each other too much.” He muttered something about wedding rings and stared at Brit as he told Nareth she looked beautiful. Then he asked, “How is your beloved Ethan, Brit?”
Denny watched her noticing the paleness. Her answer was sentient, clear, and aware with no hesitation. Denny said, “How many are near” and Brit answered without missing a beat. “Is there anything else you want to tell me,” Denny asked. She told Denny of the ring she received for Valentine’s Day and he gave her no response for several moments. “Brit, I know he drinks from you, but are you drinking from him?” She did not answer and seemed to focus on conversations of others in the library for a moment. Denny picked up a book and hurled it toward Brit who caught it easily and simply put it in her lap. Omega asked him if he had gone mad, then commended Brit on her catch. Denny answered Omega, “No M’Dear. Our dear Brit has tasted vampire blood.”
Brit said softly, “What happens between beloveds is not for public discussion.” The words were not hers, but she felt they fit at that moment. Denny continued to glare at her and said, “I think it is time for bed for you, youngling. Wouldn’t want to stay up too late and miss OUR dear Ethan now, would we?” Brit kissed Denny’s cheek as she left and thanked him for understanding. She left not knowing that, within the hour, Denny would destroy the second floor of the library and spend the following hours repairing it while harboring rage regarding his adopted daughter.
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Professor Parker darted back behind a corner. The cold musty stone pressed against his face. He was breathless again, as he tried to figure out how he stumbled into this world.
Prof. Parker was academic, but able to win nearly every scuffle and branigan he got into. In this place, his university garb now dirty and torn, he looked more the adventurer than bookworm. Indeed, he was a smattering of both, but neither convincingly back home.
Oh, how he missed his home; but something compelled him to stay in the shadows of this place. Not here long enough to truly know the characters paraded before his dry eyes, he possesed enough knowledge of the world. Same characters, same plot, same story, but different actors. And oh, he knew as well as anyone, how the actor could change the direction and tone of the story.
He was beguiled by one in particular. The fair skinned maiden with hair the color of blood -- blood he had seen too much of.
He felt caged. A protector of her, yet also like a parent that must let his children live in their own way. Find their own joy and turmoil, regardless. So it was with this conflict that the professor held back, and watched this exchange. And felt a similar angst as he witnessed the destruction of the oppulant room. A furry that unfolded in a cathartic way. He cheered to himself and wondered if he might be going insane. Was this world merely a nightmare and in reality he lay safely in his warm bed? The stinging cuts across his hands, the sweat from his temples, his shortness of breath, all betrayed him. It was quite real, and he knew soon, he would have to show himself.
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