Belladonna
He saw his undoing through a pair of deep sapphire eyes.
He saw frailty like he had never envisioned it before, framed by an ethereal beauty and lightly covered by gauze-like strength. He saw it in the gently sloping lines of bare shuddering shoulders and the resin-like paleness that stretched flawless and supple encasing the slender form that barely moved as he sat at the corner.
He continued to move in the darkness using the shadows as cover.
He knew beauty. He was well acquainted with it. All its manners and perversities, its fickleness and flightiness- the beautiful rarely act like the gracious or the wise and that is because they take after Beauty with all her shallowness and misgivings.
He knew adversity, knew it like a brother. He knew pain, knew it better than anything else. He knew that pain took many lovers combined and threaded itself deeply in all aspects of existence. Pain came with pleasure, came with fear, came with cowardice, came with glory- Pain is a wanting thing ever present, ever there.
Pain and Beauty, cracked mirrors , broken dolls, wasted prostitutes at the Quarter, dying white roses at the chapel altar, his very own existence- all of it-reflected and was reflected by the huddled form.
He was certainly familiar and therefore only curious. The plight of mortals rarely affected him- his time was done, it had been for the past three centuries. Now he lived for life and the thrill of carrying the burden of continuing on.
He lived for beauty, he lived for pain, he lived because he was alive and each step seemed to lead him to another one. He lived for change and revolution; he lived for pleasure and intoxication and because of that- most of all he lived for the Blood.
The blood that now sang to him under the boy's soft thin skin. Thrumming and humming to him through the veins, barely a snack to one such as him but a treat all the while for its exquisite packaging.
Oh wasn't the boy just like Little Lord Love? All smoothness and white innocent planes- so easy to take, so easy to mar, so easy to save and keep and hide. His red eyes glowed as he continued to muse and watch the youth.
The room was cold and filled with the slippery mold and niter that often grew in wine cellars. The boy was grimy and shivering, his temperature well above normal without having a chance to sweat the heat out. Rats scuttled and spiders spun large thick webs on the low thick wooden beams. To anyone else the room would have smelt of death and neglect but his sensitive preternatural nose zeroed on the scent coming off the boy. As freshly baked bread made a hungry man's mouth water, the boy's struggling pulse made him almost irresistible to the creature, and he was barely hungry.
The plan was simple, really.
Take, take and take- then leave.
Remember this encounter for centuries to come and recount the time he had, by chance, found an excellent snack in the Ruins while taking an evening stroll through the outskirts.
He neared the boy and gently reached out for a cherubic cheek. His gloved hand ran across it barely denting the positively smooth though sooty skin. His fangs lengthened in anticipation as he tilted the docile head to the side revealing the pale column where he knew blood ran the strongest.
Feeding, he had always thought, was like a union. There were phases to it, infinitely intricate to the point of out-staging any wedding. The way that he had observed and scented the boy was courtship. He memorized and appreciated the beauty set before him while the blood sang coy and flirtatious for every alternating beat of the Robin-heart.
The decision was proposition. The boy would feed him and he would take. They were engaged. In a more powerful prey, this process would be more physically exciting. There would be speed and pain, panic and struggle. There would be useless flailing and maybe even some screaming but all of that would lead to naught. Engagements were rarely broken, and he could never recall any of his advances being so rudely treated.
His regularly amber eyes were now a fiery red. The anticipation had kindled the ember into a roaring flame and the hunger was burning everything within him. Every poetic thought, every logical reason stood to the side of his primal urge to gorge, devour and posses.
He licked at the delicate skin and the boy murmured a sigh barely feeling the warm wetness that now coated his neck. His fever served as an anesthetic to the world. The raven was a little disappointed at that but the nearing meal put any complaint out of his head.
The fangs broke skin and in one blinding moment the world was gone. He was in complete ecstasy, drugged by the steady flow of blood that pooled in his mouth.
This had to be poison.
Sorrow, confusion, pain, pleasure, regret and anger- oh yes- a searing hatred. All of it was suddenly his as if the world had decided to pour a bucket of flaming oil on him. The boy was not a little chalice of fear and sadness but a whole sea of inexplicable emotions. It all marked and flavored the blood making it delicious to the point of addictive. It was bitter- so bitter from betrayal and deceit and pain but it was also sweet, sweetened by memories and youth, by giddy childish hopes and dreams.
The boy groaned.
Spice like a new type of cinnamon hit him. It was the anger. Sometimes cool but lasting like mint and sometimes hot and heady like peppers. The boy was dreaming and all his thoughts were reflected through the blood.
He let go in shock, pupils were blown so wide that more black could be seen than red.
He was in love.
So painfully in love with it.
The boy murmured a little then pushed himself up with a slowly stiffening arm. He turned his head lazily pinning the raven under his clear sapphire eyes.
There was confusion in them mixed with an obvious frailty and an undercurrent of power.
Sweet seductive power that came first to Beauty and Pain
Those eyes were Siren calls and the continuously trickling blood was opium.
They were dragging him- down down down….
Shackling him to this mortal doll with a death wish and warrant- he felt compelled.
Posses, take, hide immediately came like a mantra to him.
Give, love, shield- foreign words came just as strongly
All formed a cacophony in his head.
The boy said nothing as he continued to stare at the man before him.
The man said nothing as he continued to stare at those eyes that held him captive.
The boy titled his neck to one side showing the raven the two puncture wounds.
"Finish me."
An order from a proud lord made in the voice of an ailing child.
The words broke the trance and his head finally cleared. He had made his choice and the boy would suffer it either way.
He bent down his head and placed his open lips on the bleeding wound-sucking on the excess blood that came from it. The boy sighed and went lax as if death had finally come though he still took peaceful breaths that marked unconsciousness or sleep. He sucked more and more taking the venom, taking the fever and infection.
The wound closed with a lick from his tongue.
It was nearing dawn as he could feel the night like mortals could feel the day.
He took off his long dark cloak and bundled the boy in it and closed his eyes.
This is what he lived for
Posses, Give, Take, Love, Hide, Shield
In the dark cold night a boy survived Death and had unwittingly made it his lover.
AN: Greetings! Um... I'm actually a little embarrassed about this but oh well...This is a new story which I may or may not continue since I update infrequently and I still have two stories I have to finish...I just wanted a go at turning Sebastian into a vampire since the thought has been torturing me for ages. Also, this story could be a stand-alone (actually happily surprised it ended up that way)
I'm sorry if it's a little confusing- this story (if it were to happen) is about emotion and since everyone's vampiric and what not-everything is heightened and described in crazy detail. This is also my first time writing anything even remotely seductive (I am a frigid person with barely a romantic bone in my body) so if it's weird or anything feel free to say :D
That's about it! please review and, if ever, you could also vote if it should go on or request what happens next (plots are tedious things) and I'll try to make it happen...