She flips through the photo albums, her fingers touching each picture
through it's plastic casing. Memories float through her mind: the
vacations at Disney, the weekend trips to L.A., even her own birthday
parties. Sometimes, her fingers rest on a picture for too long, and
her eyes trace her own outline. She can see that she really doesn't
belong there. Not once is she holding someone's hand, or being held,
or even touched. Tears come to her eyes, and she blinks to hold them
back. She clenches her fists, fingernails slicing her palms, needing
to feel the pain, needing to feel human.
It isn't enough.
She grabs her keys and drives to the cemetery. The sun sets as she
slips into his crypt, her feet silent on the floor. He turns toward
her, his cold blue eyes staring into hers. He stands and comes to
her, his fingers ice on her face. Her breath comes faster as he
pushes her against the wall, dipping his face close to hers. "Back
so soon, Pet?"
She runs her hands up his chest and neck, burying them in his
platinum hair. Her voice is breathy, barely more than a pleading
whisper. "Show me I'm real, Spike. I need to know I'm real."
His lips touch her lightly; tiny brushes of death on her forehead,
her cheeks, her lips. Her eyes flutter closed as she lets him kiss
her. He moves to her neck, blunt teeth nipping her jugular, his cool
tongue tracing the path of her blood. She shudders as she feels his
teeth elongate, the needle-sharp points grazing her skin. He bites
down, leaving a bloody imprint of his mouth. They cry out in mutual
pain, and she holds him close until he recovers.
Finally, he begins to clean her neck of blood. His tongue circles
lazily about the wound, collecting the crimson drops. He dips his
tongue into the symmetrical bite marks on her otherwise flawless
skin. She makes small, catlike noises as he sucks on the wound,
It takes her eyes a few moments to focus when he finishes. He is
staring at her, a hunger in his eyes for more than blood. He leans
close and whispers in her ear, his breath chilling her even as his
voice warm her inside. She lets him lead her to the bed, wondering
if this is what she's needed all along.
Dawn. Picture. Needing.