Steam

Bill turns, takes two steps toward the door.

"Stop." Not loud, but hardly needs to be. Only the sound of water seeking its own level tells him that Eric has left the tub. A change in the air, steam forms behind him - only inches away and slightly to his left.

"Why do you think I came, myself?" Nearly a whisper, so near his left ear. He wants to move his feet but cannot.

"It has been so very long. Bill." The air vibrates, the tiny, delicate bones of the inner ear, the hairs on his skin, each and every nerve.

Memory is palpable in the fire that courses his flesh like warm, fresh blood. A hungry mouth ghosts his hair, the shell of his ear, the throat he can't help exposing by dropping his head to the right, opening his lips and closing his eyes. It is everything to push one word from his mouth, barely utter it, nearly a plea. "No." Said as his fangs leap uncontrollably forward. As Eric's ivory blades caress the pale skin without a tear, rendering shivers only.

Eric steps quickly back and grabs his clothes from the floor with a laugh.

"So, she is worth so much to you?" He strides toward the stairs. "You never knew how to be anything but obvious, which means you will always lose what you want most."