At Dusk, Walking Home
Sookie took Bill's cold hand and they walked through the woods, toward his house. She'd let her hair down and he'd felt it, smelled it, looked at her with a look that she couldn't ascertain; his handsome face stared at her and she stared right back, and then their lips met. Cold against warm, thin against full, Sookie had to pull away to catch her breath. Bill Compton the vampire, his fangs showing, was flushed as though blood still ran through his veins. Never had he wanted a human so much.
Sookie smiled, stuttered, and Bill smiled back, after a moment.
He held her hand as he walked up the steps of his house, refrained from kissing her goodnight, lest he take her right then and there.
Sookie smiled again, told him goodnight, and he did the same, asked to see her again. She agreed, and headed back through the winds, the memory of their kiss still fresh in her mind, her blood hot, flowing through her veins.
Bill closed his eyes and thought of her as sleep found him, cold and alone.
Sookie, warm in her bed, thought of him as well, couldn't stop the wetness between her thighs, the moan in her throat from escaping. Sleep was uneasy. She counted the hours 'til she'd see him again.
