Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; they belong to the wonderful Kim Harrison. I just need an outlet for my frustration.
I tried to hold back the tears that threatened to destroy my allure, stinging the back of my eyes in a malicious attempt to render me pathetic in her eyes. I didn't deserve this creature. It was true, and yet I clung to the slender possibility that maybe…one day, she would willingly come to my arms for comfort. That I would be allowed to rest my lips upon hers whenever I pleased, and that she would return my affection and adoration with as much emotion crackling from her flesh as crawled beneath mine. So desperately did I desire those emerald eyes to gaze into my own, simply so that I could reveal the purity of what lurked beneath my finely sculpted mask of apathy. Those same eyes, portrayed so many times in my fantasies as an anchor to reality, were now staring at me, confusion and irritation mingling within their cores.
"What do you want from me, Ivy?" Her voice. God, her voice alone was enough to send me to my knees. She was whispering, even though there was no one else around. "I don't know what to do, anymore. Just tell me."
"Tell you?" My hoarse tone betrayed my composed stance and features, and I silently cursed it.
"Yes. Tell me." Rachel's hands came to envelop my own, and she brought her fingers up to gently rest her lips upon her own flawless skin. I winced, heart racing, and pulled away. She looked hurt, yet resumed her train of thought as if nothing had occurred. "I don't understand."
"Of course you don't, dear heart." I allowed my trembling hand to stroke her cheek. It was true: how could she know? We'd never confronted each other about feelings in depth when neither of us was enraged, hurt, or aroused. "It doesn't exactly matter, though, does it?" I spoke softly to myself, unconsciously repeating aloud the words that would plague my mind every time I thought it to be the appropriate time to reveal my true sentiments to the witch. "No, it doesn't. Focus. Control. Why should it matter? Ignorance is bliss."
Absently, I tucked a wild stand of fire behind her ear, and she shuddered as my fingers remained to caress the softness beneath her lobe for a second too long. I felt my pulse rise at her response; urges multiplying within me without my direct authorization, fastening upon my mind and plunging their roots deep into living tissue. I knew I should have backed away from Rachel; those emerald gems staring into my soul, a gentle worry creasing her brow. My core felt like an hourglass: her presence making the sands of my essence spill from my brain to my heart. I couldn't think coherently any longer. Emotions from all ends of the spectrum rushed through my system to claw at my self-control.
"Ivy." Rachel's melodious voice brought me back to Earth. Her fingers had curled around my wrist, holding my touch away from her scars. "We really need to talk."
"What's there to talk about?" The small voice in the back of my mind was speaking, now. That same voice that would persuade me to cease conversations when there was even the slightest possibility of being emotionally damaged. "Nothing. Things are perfect the way they are; why change something functional?"
"I never said I wanted to…change anything, Ivy." She repeated the word I'd utilized with a noticeable hesitation in her tone. Her delicate features held a stiffness that I wasn't used to seeing, and it frightened me beyond words. Her heart thundered in my ears as she spoke, "I just want to talk."
"Rachel…" I breathed her name, and felt butterflies take control of my internal organs as her eyelids flit shut at the silk of my voice. "Don't talk to me unless you really want to. You already know what my feelings are; you simply refuse to let me know of yours. I'm not up for a conversation like this unless you can assure me you want the truth. Nothing but the truth."
I felt the need to place a sentence accentuating what I meant, so that the witch would grasp the verity in my next words to come. I'd seen a flicker of irritation illuminate the irises of her emeralds at my mention of her lack of emotion, but it was quickly suppressed to be replaced with a peculiar glint of curiosity. She nodded once, gesturing me to take a seat on the couch as she sat down herself—a single cushion separating her seated figure and the territory offered to me. I sat.
"What do you see when you look at me?" My voice cracked as I posed the question whose answer often gnawed at me from inside.
"I see…" she paused, considering the question and noticeably formulating a response in accordance to the future. "I see a woman. Black hair, brown eyes. Well toned, perfect nails, nice figure. Physically independent—"
"No." I cut her off. "What do you see?"
Rachel took in a breath as if to say something, but held it within her lungs instead and gently cocked her head to the side, releasing the air in a whisper. "I see you."
My eyes dropped to the floor, a sudden wave of timidity washing over me. I didn't wish to appear shy, but the way she'd whispered the response had made my gaze fall from hers as I contemplated what to ask next. The tone of my voice was barely audible as I spoke to the hardwood floor, addressing the red-haired woman sitting beside me. "And…what do I mean to you?"
"Ivy, you mean the world to me." She responded without hesitation. I looked up, a small smile curving the corner of my lips as she spoke sweet words. "You're the one I think of when I want to come home from the ever after. You protect me from other vampires; even protect me using your own body to persuade undead vamps to shield me from any type of damage…you're the one I know will back up my witch ass when I mess up and finish off waist-deep in poo." I chuckled softly at her choice of words, and was rewarded with a close-lipped smile of her own. "You're my best friend."
My jaw clenched, locking the flesh of the insides of my cheeks between their maws to rip the soft tissue, allowing the taste of blood to slide down my throat when I swallowed. The utterance she'd spoken had not been the one I'd wanted to hear. Temples throbbing from an increasing pressure, pushing the sides of my skull outwards from the inside, I dropped my head; my lap being the last thing I saw before my eyes squeezed shut, as if the lack of my sight would mean that the world stopped spinning, ceased to exist.
This was not the case.
"Ivy…" I felt the lightest touch of her fingers upon my shoulder, before they were hesitantly removed. "What's the matter?"
"Rachel, I look at you and see the most beautiful woman in the world." Mist clouded my vision as I looked up, my eyes boring into hers. "I see your eyes—trusting, loving, caring. Your lips. Your breasts. Your hips and waist. I see power exuding from your every pore, positive energy swirling around you…even as you look at me now, sorrow flaring in your expression. When I look at you, I see a compassionate lover; one who doesn't please for the sole purpose to be pleased." Her lips parted and her eyes widened at my choice of words, but I did not cease speaking. "I see loyalty. I see striking features, flawless skin, an inviting pulse…"
I trailed off, my gaze dropping to her neck. Her jugular. It beckoned me, thumping with an increased flow as soon as the witch saw I was ogling it. My eyes dilated slightly, allowing my vision to heighten—sharpening the edges of her every curve, enhancing the hunger within me, and enunciating the way the exquisite vein in her neck danced to the beat of an unknown tattoo.
Despite this, my tear ducts overflowed with salt water—that treacherous liquid that divulged my raw emotion, ravaging my face with its pass. The sensation of growing arousal mingled with famine was rapidly consumed by the lingering despair that had been trickling with excruciating ease throughout my system over the course of the past few years. "I look at you, dear heart, and see my life, my home, my sanity. My reason to be. My subconscious mind has latched itself to the comfort of your proximity. It's irrational, unintentional, but it happened. When my body is in peril, my mind inescapably wanders back to you; the simple illusion of your familiar presence envelops me, and I feel safe, Rachel. I feel safe."
As the sentences of my coherent rambles prolonged, my voice began to diminish in projection until I could no longer continue my train of thoughts, as my tone had been reduced to an inaudible whisper.
"Ivy, I—"
"That's what I see when I look at you, Rachel." Two tears of mine dropped from each eye, both slipping down my cheeks to join at my chin and fall together onto my lap.
"I didn't know…"
The purity of her voice was genuine, and it almost pained me to see her with an expression of regret contorting her features into an unattractive painting. I clasped my hands in my lap, curling the tips of my fingers into the backs of my hands so that the trembling would cease. Her pulse had once again risen, lurching my system into a mode utilized for the hunt, the catch, the kill. I was overwhelmed with a wave of crude instinct to course through me, consequently forcing my fingers to tighten their holds; one of my thumbs reaching under to sink its nail deep into the tissue of my palm.
"I want you so much." I managed to hiss the words through clenched teeth, her proximity not aiding my distress. "You can't know. You have no idea. No clue."
She stood, clearly uncomfortable. "I'll leave."
"No!" I grabbed her wrist, unaware of how tightly my fingers were curled around her sensitive flesh. "You really think I could have lived with you, all these years, incapable of restraining myself in this most common of situations? Please. You claimed you wanted to talk, and I'm willing."
My tone was accusing—not the way I'd wanted it to come out. In reality, this proximity with Rachel was even more crushing than the usual. My teeth nipped harshly at the insides of my cheeks, reopening the sealed wounds my molars had previously created. The vampire virus was happily streaming through my veins, now more than ever, amplifying the effects that had been allocated to me since it first began taking effect. This included an increased healing process. Hunger rumbled within me, demanding I slake the specific famine I had placed upon myself. Why now and never before? Never like this. It didn't make sense. I wasn't exactly certain as to the concrete reason why, but my heart thumped irregularly in my chest cavity as her eyes grazed over me now, pupils landing upon the place where my body touched hers.
"Alright." Her voice cracked with unease, and she cleared her throat prior to seating herself once again at my side. I released her, and my heart skipped a beat as she sat cross-legged, choosing to face me. I mimicked her. The witch took me by surprise, then, when she lifted the cushion that served as that retched barrier between us, to cradle it in her lap like a newborn child. Her eyes remained fixed upon the inanimate object as she spoke. "Why do you even bother?"
My heart thumped once, loudly, in my ears. "I could ask you the same thing."
Rachel looked up, then; the green of her eyes amplified due to the fine sheet of water that rested upon the surface of her cornea. Emotions were rolling off of her like waves, though I couldn't place a single one of them into a concrete category. The theme of her sentiments, however, was quite apparent: Guilt. Regret. Sorrow.
I sighed. "It's everything. Your heart and ability to forgive, your occasional cocky moments, even the way you exhale noisily through your nose whenever something doesn't go your way," I paused, smiling as I recounted the moments where precisely that had occurred—how I'd always refrained from telling her the way it made her appear like a displeased child; infinitely adorable. "Everything. You're perfect, dear heart. You light up a room, restore color in a world that was previously believed to be dull, bleak. Before I met you, I thought I was nothing but a disgusting creature—one that's sole purpose in this world was to hunt, to feed. You know everything about me, and yet you persist on staying close. I bother because of this, Rachel. Forgive me if I've perceived this to be interest, but countless times have I endangered your life, even that of others…and yet here you are. Why?
"Naivety is one of the aspects on your part that have held us together, you do realize that?" I brought both my hands up to curl the stands of hair behind each of her ears, lingering to cup her cheeks in the palms of my hands before reluctantly folding them neatly in my lap. "You trust me. For no god damn reason. In terms of evidence, the majority of my actions would fall into the get-the-fuck-away-from-the-crazy-vampire category, wouldn't you agree?"
She let out a choked laugh, the tears now freely streaming down her youthful visage. Not because of sadness, no. Nor was this spilled salted liquid due to any type of negative emotion—I felt the witch's pulse rise as I spoke, her soft smile contagiously urging me to mirror her expression. I'd never told Rachel these things before, and only now did I realize what grave error I'd made. How was I to know what the depth of her assumptions regarding me looked like within her imagination? Evidently, whatever it was had been changed in this very moment.
I tried to maintain a steady tone as I resumed. "You have no reason to trust me, and yet you do. Time and time again I've failed to prove my capacities to be competent enough to protect you, even demonstrating the complete opposite…so why am I staring into your green eyes as I speak right now? Why aren't you half-way across the world?" Without my authorization, my hands found their way to her shoulders, the tips of my fingers kneading her back as my thumbs trailed the length of her clavicles with excruciating delicacy. "God, Rachel. You're a miracle and you don't even know it."
Her eyes closed, allowing two last drops to slide down her cheeks as she exhaled pleasurably, content with basking in the attention I was freely offering. My blood pressure rose, much to my disliking. For the first time since we'd begun living together all those many years ago, she was consenting to this intimate of a touch; my current arousal was not exactly something I was proud of. I curled my hands reluctantly, out of shame, and brought my fists to rest beneath my chin.
As if the tips of my fingers were magnetic, Rachel's shoulders slumped forward as I returned my hands to my body instead of continuing to allow them to move rhythmically upon her soft flesh. Her head landed on the inside of my thigh. I inhaled sharply. I sat there, waiting for her to rise again, wanting the witch as far away from my core as possible and yet trying to suppress the racing images and delusional feelings where she met the object of my craving desire with willing anticipation. My head swam with situations that could potentially arise from this position, and despite my efforts, I could not push them all away. She remained lying in my lap, against my thigh, facing my stomach, bringing her shoulders up to meet the sides of her neck before dropping them back into place and sighing. My breathing slowed dramatically as I forced my internal organs to diminish their natural capacities so that my body would respond less hastily to this woman's unintentional provocations.
Trying not to make my stimulation apparent, I reached under her stomach to grab the pillow she'd been holding. Her body and limbs were limp, as was her head when I lifted it up to insert the cushion between herself and the suddenly sensitive spot on my leg.
"So tell me…" I began, beginning to run my fingers through her hair in aim to determine just how far Rachel's line of discomfort was placed when it came down to me. "Why is it that you even bother? To stay with me, is what I mean. You've had multiple occasions to desert this church as well as myself, but you always come back—even after everything I've put you through. Why?"
"I already told you." Her voice croaked, and she cleared her throat before continuing. "You're my best friend. I'm able to understand that it's not always easy to control the instincts that were forced upon you at birth. You're the most selfless person I know, Ivy; any remotely intelligent individual would be able to see that you don't do these things intentionally."
"But I do." My hands did not cease their soothing gestures as my conscience spoke through my lips, addressing me as well as the redheaded beauty. "Sure, it's true that my instincts do take over once I'm in the midst of a situation that pushes the restrictions of my restraint, but you don't seem to understand that there always is a choice. I have no right to blame these things upon a virus. I do things because I want to, Rachel. Some things appear more important to me at the time than the safety of others, responsibilities, the future. Do you understand what I mean?"
"Yes, but—"
"The first time I pinned you to the chair. Remember that?" She needed to understand that this was all me, even if it played against my intentions to convince her of my innocence. "I want to bite her so much, is what I thought moments before I jumped you. Her neck looks delicious. No one will know if she goes missing—she has a death threat on her head anyway. My hunger is much more important than her well-being." My gentle strokes of her hair continued as if I weren't speaking about the day I had had in mind to take advantage of her. "I used to be a monster, Rachel. I made bad choices. And it isn't as if people don't make a bad decision or two on occasion, but mine would wind up killing people. I did what I wanted to do because I didn't care about the negative repercussions that arose from my actions."
"You're not that person anymore, Ivy." Her tone was strong, even though I could see from the side of Rachel's visage that her eyelids were closed. "I wasn't saying that to make you feel special. You really are the only one I know who would give her life without hesitation if it meant saving that of another. You've given yourself multiple times for the purpose of protection, which I still haven't been able to fully thank you for…when we were in Mackinaw."
My fingers stopped caressing her fiery curls, curious as to which she was referring to—when I'd seduced the undead vampire for Rachel's sake, or the incident in the van. She took my moment of distraction as an opportunity to sit up, I'm assuming unable to do so with my fingers still tangled in her hair, softly massaging her scalp. The witch passed her own fingers through her hair, momentarily pausing to gaze into my eyes with a pensive allure.
"I may try to appear independent most of the time, if not always. I don't like showing people that I can be hurt, just like everyone else." Her voice was slightly off key, as if she felt the need to restrain its volume if not to risk falling once again into a waterfall of tears. "And I never thanked you completely for everything you've done for me these past few years. I've seen you in your worst moments, and it doesn't stop me from thinking you to be altruistic. It's true that I don't recall you before I met you in the I.S., so I can't determine the type of person you were back then. But I do know you now. And you're my best friend for a reason, Ivy. Trust me, if you were really the person you claim to be, then my throat would have been torn open years ago."
She struck a chord within me, strumming it throughout my body with a harsh pluck. "I did tear your throat open, Rachel."
She grabbed my hand, squeezing my fingers between her own. "I meant I'd be dead."
"Did I ever tell you," I paused to take a deep breath, steadying my thrumming pulse, "that you were the first of my victims to be released before I was entirely sated? In the situation where I sunk my teeth in your neck or not…you've always been the only person I cared about enough to—of my own free will—liberate, even if my stomach grumbled for more. It's not me. It's you. It's always been you, and only you. I love you so much…"
I trailed off pathetically, choking on my own breath as I tried to retain the emotions threatening to spill from my heart. I smelled Rachel's hesitancy in the air, swirling around me like a taunting chuckle. The witch wanted to hug me, but refrained from doing so likely due to two reasons: afraid to trigger my vampire instincts, and terrified to arouse my female nature. She simply sat there; squeezing my hand and offering me a sympathetic smile that made me want to slap it off of her full-force.
"Why don't you love me?"
The words had exited my mouth before I'd had time to process them, and I immediately regretted it. Her expression altered from pity to lament, fingers slipping away from mine so that she could curl them at her sides. She didn't look at me when she spoke.
"I-I just don't. Women aren't supposed to love other women, Ivy." Her bash towards the entire homosexual community was almost too much to handle, and yet I sat there and listened to her speak, crushing the sides of my tongue in the maws of my molars for precaution. "I just don't feel anything more for you than friendship—and it's not meant to be offensive, but I don't see why you can't understand that. I can't picture myself with you."
"Don't." I shut my eyes, incapable of staring at her any longer. "Don't you dare sit there and lie to me, Rachel. If that's what you're planning to continue doing, then you leave. Right now. Every word that I spoke was the truth; I expected to receive the same courtesy. Don't pretend you haven't ever thought about me in that way; don't try to live with the illusion that I don't have an effect on you; and don't ever think to lie to me concerning something I can smell all over you without even trying."
I opened my eyes and found Rachel staring at me, jaw visibly clenched through her cheeks. "I'm sorry."
"Just tell me the truth."
Her expression was one I could only describe as 'pained' while she spoke to me, her soft, melodious voice carrying out through the church with ease. "It's scary," she admitted. "I've never liked a woman…that way—I don't even know what this is that I'm feeling. It doesn't make any sense. Every relationship I've ever had with a guy has turned out catastrophic. I just…can't help but imagine that I'd end up thinking back of you as…oh, yeah. That girl I had a thing with. What was her name again—?"
My finger pressed itself upon the softness of her lips as I shushed her without words. Was this it? Really? This was the factor that held Rachel back every single time I'd come on to her, whether it be with or without pheromones. I could feel the pounding of my pulse, thrusting against my left breast, wanting to leap out of my chest and into the palm of her hand. It beat for her, and only her.
I could tell from the increase in her own blood pressure that I had unintentionally begun to release pheromones, and I tried to suppress them as much I could. I was well aware that the vampire portion of my personality was also something that terrified Rachel beyond words; hence the reason I forced myself to concentrate on the woman before me—thinking of her as such instead of a snack, a source of nourishment. My finger dropped from her lips, hooking the material of her shirt between the breasts to make her gasp. I retracted my hand with an inhuman swiftness, clasping it in the other against my chest.
"Forgive me." I pleaded hastily. Once again, my subconscious mind had perceived an insignificant action as a sign of interest. I tried to convince myself the action had been an accident, but I was me. I knew what my intentions had been. It was irrational to believe that I would be able to persuade myself of something I was already fully aware of. My index and thumb came up to grab at my bottom lip, reflexively pulling at it while my eyes darted nervously around the room—avoiding the witch's gaze.
"Ivy." My line of vision clashed with hers. "Stop tormenting yourself about all of this. I need time—probably a hell of a lot. It was good to finally talk to you about this, because it's been gnawing at the back of my skull for a couple weeks, now. It's hard to say if I ever really have, but I don't love you." Her voice was soft as she finished her train of thought, glancing away from me with a light flush upon her otherwise unblemished cheeks. "Not…yet, anyway."
I felt my heart skip a beat.