For once in her life, she had done nothing wrong. She had been a victim of circumstance, simply arriving at the wrong time. The spilled tea had gone cold, staining his pants, and yet he could not bring himself to care. The large clatter it had all made as it fell to the ground, the clanging of the metal tray, the shattering of the cup, still rang sharply in his ears, like some cruel echo, reminding him that he had done this. The once warm liquid claimed part of her shirt, pooled on the floor, a few stray splatters on the cuffs of his sleeves. There had been no blood. But there might as well have been.
All because she wanted to bring him tea.
His hands shook, as he reached out to hold her, though he would never admit that he of all people was allowing himself to do something as degrading as tremble. But he had already lost his composure once today. To do so again seemed rather insignificant by comparison. And really, to call it all a brief 'loss of composure' was a disgustingly low understatement. Her head hung limply as he lifted her small torso, and the image was enough to make his stomach churn. With careful hands that still shook, he supported her head, the blonde locks slipping through his fingers like water. He brought her to his chest, where he no longer felt her warm human breaths against the fabric of his vest. How despicable, he thought, for a vampire like him to have gotten used to something so basely human.
But this human, this girl, in all her innocence, and stupidity, and infuriating perseverance…had naively succumbed to the talons of a monster. Because hewas a monster.
Fool, he thought. If she had fought a little harder, screamed a little louder, then perhaps maybe, maybe…
His futile reasoning and selfish excuses held no merit. His guilt induced blame proved that there was no one at fault other than himself. He knew that. Heknew that. So why…
He had watched the life drain from her eyes. Seen the last choked breath garble and then die in her throat, never reaching her lungs. Oh but he hadn't just watched. He'd caused it, reveled in it, her desperate pleas and feeble countermeasures only adding to his amusement. He had even thought her pathetic, begging for her life in such a way.
But not once did those eyes look at him with hatred. Confusion, perhaps. Terror, definitely. But not hatred. And that was enough to make frustration well up in his own eyes.
I'll kill you. Just like I killed my mother.
He hadn't given her time to react, and so he didn't get to see the look on her face, when he said those words. Perhaps then, if he had given her time to process it, to get her to realize that he was, in fact, a monster, then she would have hated him. But she, like his mother, had failed to give him even that. He had failed before. And now he had failed again.
He had not been thinking clearly. That, at least, he could say with certainty. Hunger, the fog of sleep still heavy in his mind, the jumbled equations of the required liquids and elixirs to formulate the drug he'd sought for so long to perfect, and to be interrupted in the middle of it all. Not to mention that it had been weeks since he had properly fed. But his arms shook violently, as he held this pale girl in his arms, and he knew that those excuses were all as pathetic as her attempts to save her own life.
With legs feeling like lead, arms and hands still trembling as though overcome by fever, he lifted her up, carrying her over to the couch, and then placing her limp body down gently, as though he were putting a child to sleep. For someone as unremarkable as she, there was something strikingly beautiful about the glass pink orbs that had once been full of light. With a deep inhale, and a distracted gaze, he brushed down her eyelids, swallowing the heavy lump that had built up in his throat.
His eyes fell on his desk, where rested the completed drug. It had been the cause of a death, he could potentially make it two. But perhaps with this, the satisfaction he'd been craving would come not from that woman, but from this human instead. Seventeen years he had worked, developing the drug to perfection. It seemed only suitable that the elixir would resuscitate an equivalent amount of time. Heavy legs led him to the desk, upon which he closed his hands around the vial. With a measured inhale, and quicker legs, he was staring at her again, thinking that cold skin did not suit a girl like her. He placed the poison to his lips, holding the liquid in his mouth, and then leaned down, injecting the drug with his fangs. A choked cough erupted from her throat while his lips were still on hers, and he pulled away, shivers running down his spine as the scent of her blood flowing revived not only her, but him as well. Those pink eyes shimmered with life once more, her chest rising and falling, panting with warm breath.
She sat up slowly, shaking slightly, looking like a newborn fawn. "R-Reiji-"
He held her in his arms once again, this time her warm skin pressing against his, her breath claiming the center of his chest, her head held in place of her own volition. His own head sunk to the crook of her neck, and from the way she flinched, he knew that she thought he was going to bite. But he didn't.
"You've been most troublesome today," he whispered in a voice that was incredibly uncharacteristic. It shook at the end, attempting to be confident but failing most miserably. It was here, that she wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in her warmth. "I'm sorry, Reiji-san." She murmured against him, his hold on her tightening in response.
"This mediocre tea has spilled and gone cold," his mouth felt dry. Would it do, to gloss over the issue entirely like this? Still, he could not stop himself, "I will take it upon myself to teach you properly."
This was where she would back away. Cower in fear. Recognize him for the monster he was, and hate him. She would hate him, and he would lose her.
After all, it was what he deserved.
But those large, naïve eyes that smiled so kindly, those lips that were tugged into a shape of hope, that lovely expression that he hadn't realized he'd grown to crave…she did not hate him.
"I'd like that very much, Reiji-san."
Perhaps those six words had saved his life.
A/N: Wow it feels good to write again. I feel like I've been kind of absent. Anyway, was feeling the Reiji feels. Enjoy ^^