"What are you up to?" Eric asked, coming into Pam's room and flopping onto her bed. He grabbed one of her lavender decorative pillows and settled it into his lap as he got comfortable.
She closed her laptop with one hand and turned around to face him from where she was sitting at her desk.
"Did you ever glamour me?" she asked.
"What?" he asked, not expecting the question and therefore having a less than eloquent response.
"I was watching Jessica's blog," Pam elaborated.
He snorted. "Why?" He knew Pam had a soft spot for the baby vampire, but her incessant questions and innocence drove her nuts.
"Fuck if I know," she told him, moving from the chair to sit beside him on the bed. "She was talking about the 'ethics of glamouring.' Gag me. But she remembers Bill trying to glamour her before he killed her. Remember, he wanted to be all comforting?"
Eric nodded. He'd thought it was kind, though he wouldn't have bothered. Their fear is what makes it fun.
"So I was wondering: is the way I remember our meeting the way it actually happened?" she asked. She hoped he would say he hadn't altered her memory at all. She'd given a lot of thought to the night he turned her and the night prior and it actually hurt to think that it might have been fabricated.
"I never glamoured you," he reassured her. "I had no need; you weren't afraid."
She sighed a breath of relief. It was pretty ancient history, but it was the start of them and it still mattered to her a great deal.
"Why would I be afraid? You were a sexy as fuck creature of the night who saved my life," she told him.
"You were flustered," he remembered fondly, affection creeping into his tone.
She glared at him but couldn't deny it, instead hitting him with one of her pillows as she moved it to sink into her comforter.
She was kicking her heels off over the side of the bed when he added, "That wasn't the first time I saw you, though."
"What?! When did you see me?"
"I'd been following you for a while," he told her, lost in the memories. He'd actually stalked her for several weeks before he finally made his presence known.
Eric was walking along the streets, hoping for a nice meal. So far no one had caught his eye and there was not much night left.
He turned one more corner and noticed a woman some ways ahead. She was pretty with long blonde hair hanging down around her shoulders in messy curls and pale skin that he would love to sink his fangs into.
She was wearing a long deep blue gown with a matching overcoat. She was walking slowly and he couldn't imagine what a woman like her would be doing in such a seedy, dangerous area of town.
He decided to follow her at a distance, curious to see where she was going and growing more hungry by the minute. She stepped out of a shadow and at this angle he could see that her lipstick was worn off and her mouth was turned down into a deep frown.
He followed her for another two blocks and watched as she seemed to agonize over something internally. Suddenly and without warning a look of determination came across her face and she turned west, heading towards the sea.
She made her way to the cliffs, stepping carefully over the rocks that threatened to trip her in her heels. She held her skirts up until she got near the edge, then dropped them in order to pull off her coat and toss it aside. As she got closer to the side of the cliff she pulled her shoes off before walking to the very edge, peering over carefully to the ocean below.
His interest in the woman increased as he watched her actions. The way she held herself suggested a wealthy upbringing and he could see in the square of her shoulders that she was not someone who bended easily. So what could bring such a lovely woman to such desperation?
She sat on the ledge, legs dangling over the side. She was leaning forward so that she could peer at the waves hitting the rocks below. She wasn't crying but sadness rolled off of her in waves.
He kept to the shadows for a long while, waiting to see if she would jump. She finally stood up and right when he thought she would fling herself over the edge she stepped back, grabbed her coat and shoes, and walked back the way she came.
"You saw that?" she asked.
"It's what made me start following you," he said. "Why were you up there?"
She exhaled unnecessarily and turned to lie on her back. She recalled that night vividly; the way the salt smelled in the air, the way the wind blew the stray hairs around her face to tickle her nose.
"I'm sure you know why," she said vaguely.
He took one of her hands in his and stroked her arm with the other. The night he'd turned her she'd sliced her wrists with no hesitation, something only possible given that she'd obviously had similar thoughts for a long while before. Suicide was not a new idea to her and the moment he'd made to leave it had suddenly become the option that offered the strongest opportunity to gain something.
"I know," he told her. She'd had a hard time as a prostitute and knew she wouldn't have a pleasant time as she aged. "But why were you up there that particular night?"
She turned to lie on her side next to him, hands curled up to her face like they had been on the night he'd turned her. "I'd had… a difficult client that night," she told him. "He was very wealthy, but some of the things he enjoyed were… less than pleasant." She'd put up with him for so long because it was worth the sum he paid for her but it was still not something that she'd particularly enjoyed.
She turned her bright blue eyes up to him where he regarded her thoughtfully. It always hurt him to hear about anything that pained her, even if it had happened before he'd even known her.
"Would you have saved me?" she asked. "If I'd jumped?"
He reached out to smooth the hair that framed her face and watched as she absently leaned into his touch. He'd asked himself the same question that night. He could have allowed her to fall to her death or he could have saved her. He could have even glamoured her to never try it again, though something about that hadn't sat well with him at the time. He didn't normally care to interfere with the affairs of humans, but she had caught his eye.
"I don't know," Eric told her honestly. "I hadn't decided. Luckily I didn't need to."
"You did save me," she whispered. "Not that night… but later. And every night since you turned me." She couldn't believe something so sappy had just come out of her mouth, but Eric tended to bring out the most vulnerable parts of her.
His thumb brushed the skin under her eye before he leaned forward to press a long kiss to her forehead. When he pulled away he stayed close, his breath brushing across her face as he spoke.
"Why did you not jump?" he asked. He'd thought for certain that she would, and yet she'd walked away.
"I don't know," she shrugged. "I guess it just didn't feel right." She had thought about going to the cliffs before and she'd been a breath away from making the decision that would end her life. For some reason she hadn't and she couldn't explain it to herself, let alone to him. All she could remember was feeling that maybe it wasn't time yet, though she truly had no reason to live or to think that it would ever get better.
Yet here she lay with her maker, her entire life changed so much since that time. Living for all these years had taught her that you could never know what was just around the corner and it was scary to think that she'd been so close to never knowing this life with him.
"I'm glad," he said, and she gave him a shaky smile, the whole subject being a painful topic for her. "I can't imagine not having you here," he added. He'd never have turned her if it hadn't been for her insistence, but he can't deny the pull he'd felt toward her since that night and he had never regretted making her.
She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and he slipped his fingers into her hair, changing the angle of the kiss to mold his lips to hers. They kissed slowly for long moments, savoring the moment and each other.
When Eric pulled her close so that her chest was flush with his she pulled him to lie above her. She generally had never liked to be under a man but with Eric it was different. He was often dominating, but he'd never done anything he'd known would make her uncomfortable and he'd never once forced her to do something sexually. For some reason this made her want to submit, her blood calling for her to do so.
They kissed for longer than typical before Eric was pushing her dress up her legs and finally over her head. He took his time, skating his fingers teasingly along her skin and his lips down her neck and chest.
His mouth returned to her neck and he was running his fangs along her throat when she unbuttoned and pushed his shirt off his shoulders. She was practically aching with the anticipation of his bite, and once she pushed his pants off his hips he finally gave in.
Her blood flowing out of her and his fangs in her neck brought instant feelings of pleasure. Eric tilted his head invitingly so that she could drink from him at the same time and she instantly complied. She wasn't sure what was better: his fangs in her or the taste of his blood on her tongue.
"Eric," she whispered, shifting a bit so that she could spread her legs fully. He pulled away from his bite so that he could look into her eyes as he pushed into her. Her eyes fluttered closed, allowing her to focus on the sensation of him inside her.
He kissed her once more, their fangs cutting into their lips and releasing both of their blood into their mouths. Tongues sliding against one another mixed their blood and she savored the taste. She ran her hands along his arms, enjoying the feeling of strength and safety they provided.
Their lovemaking was normally fast and furious. They'd been together what must be thousands of times in their years together, yet they were rarely sweet with one another. She could think of a handful of occasions such as this, and they were always her favorite. He pushed into her at a slow pace until they both grew closer to the edge and their bodies craved more.
He shifted his angle so that he was hitting her clit with every thrust. Not a dozen thrusts later she was coming beneath him, back arching so that her nipples brushed his chest. He followed quickly behind, feeling her pleasure in their shared blood.
He held himself above her for several moments, head resting face down on the pillow just above her shoulder. He finally gathered himself and turned to kiss her temple before finally moving off of her to lie next to her.
They lay together before wordlessly unmaking the bed. They slipped inside it and he cuddled her close, knowing she enjoyed it but was usually too proud or embarrassed to ask for it.
She began to dose but was just awake enough to hear him tell her he loved her.
"Love you, too," she mumbled sleepily and felt a kiss on her shoulder blade as she was lulled to sleep by his fingers stroking her side.
It was amazing, what she might have easily missed, without even knowing.