Desperation
Kari Jo

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, drinking her.

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.