I'm too young to be writing this but.. WHATEVER. Haha. I like it for some reason, it was a major spur of the moment thing on D's weakness to his primal lust when he's in private. I mean, he's only a man... a sexy half vampire man, but a MAN none the less. Oh, I kinda...threw in Adelaide from my other story.. so lets pretend this is happened some.. time.. in the timeline there...
Yeah. I got lazy and I needed a plot. Whatever. : She kinda just popped in there... not sure how but she did.
Disclaimer: I do not own D, but I do own Adelaide. :D
Primal and Romanticize
There was that urge, a primitive lust, which conquered even the strongest of men in their greatest hour. Though history is exists, portrays and evades the common man with such a force that it can merely turn into a longing which is acted upon by force or manipulation
. A delicious sound of enjoyment when a forbidden flavor is added to the mix, ecstasy from a sinful covetousness which rises from the need and the want brings moments of delight and moments of hatred.
It derives from our psyche, our hopeless dreams of unrequited love or suppressing of ourselves to such a point we loose ourselves in a sweating moment when we cannot resist the red flowers blooming within out mind. Our illusion of the exaggerated hunger with a primal roar it takes over.
The strongest of men succumb to the force as it seduces and entrances their senses.
He lies alone, in dripping on a bed. Sweat dripping from his face with his mouth agape in denying and panting from his yearning. His dark hair sucking upon his pale skin as if driving away the madness to as he rolled upon the sheets with a grunting nose, his skin rubbing against the material
These emotions harassed and irritated him as he gripped onto the white sheets with his Left hand, burying the infection with a muffled cry as his right hand ran though his damp hair as though pulling away his frustrations.
Even the strongest men, or the strongest immortals, fall to their knees at such an urge.
It infested him with a primal emotion, one that degraded his sense of honor and self control. He felt lower than himself as he gave way to it, his hands gripped at the material and his curls even harder. He panted harder as he felt the feeling strike back at him harder than before, it was absolutely overwhelming to be sweating on such a cold night.
The winds blew through the soft white curtains, as if teasing him to retreat to outside to find the amusement his body ached for and desired. He denied himself such a thing, once more, his enigmatic body revolted against him crying for the feeling of another's flesh upon his. His scent was besieged by the odor of his own perspiration and the natural surroundings of the grounds, the aroma of the trees and flowers with the newly formed dew as it descending upon the forest waking up.
He had just barely lasted the night; he buried his head into the pillow silently. Baring the agony until it reluctantly left his body when he could move again, without his suppressed lust within the way. Something cool touched his skin; he gripped the pillowed harder as he felt the feeling of hairs on his side as he back was turned to the door.
She was silent; he had been too distracted by his weakness to hear her enter. Her hand slid to his and softly held down as hard as she could, for he new her weak strength, and placed the side of her head on his shoulder.
"You struggle."
Were her words simply, enigmatic as himself, as he felt her lips curve into a small smile,
"But you are not weak."
He gritted his teeth, trying to refuse the emotions of his vampirism. She did not stir as a small growl was heard she remained there as she placed her other hand on his head.
"You are, like all men, a primal being. You cannot deny, who you are."
D understood the hidden message within the girl's words. She was physically blind, but her words were all seeing within a person's soul as she held him fast in a small hug.
He didn't need the lust or the blood. He needed to understand things more than he does now. Having so many years of experience and many years of expedition with the knowledge of it all, there was the fear of what he would do after. What could he do after? He might just turn into the very thing he hunts, that much frightened him though such an enigmatic presence he carried would frost over into a pathetic being.
Was he pathetic? His thoughts were jumped in is primal lust as he felt her hand pull from his arm to wipe his forehead with a small smile she stood up and her bare feet remained silent till the sound of the door closing made him unclasp the sheets and pillow.
He could not deny himself who he was.
But, he understood that he would have his turn to be who he is. But for now, he was a hunter.
Vampire Hunter D.
For now, his primal instincts would remain alone and untapped.
Until that moment, that final moment where he would understand… who he truly was.
That, and I totally wanted to write a weakened D without make it smut... ..