Yay!
My Glorious Reappearing in the Fan-Fiction world.
And of course, to get in the mood again, I'll just ooze out
some random Twilight fluffies :3
Enjoy.
Steph owns, dawgs.
The Crimson Touch.
The predator, the hunter, moves with sinuous muscles undulating beneath short fur. Stalking stealthily in the tree canopies, making
not a sound except for its low hot breath heard by the other predators. These, far more dangerous than the first. These, equally animal-like in a sense, are masked with a face of diamonds, beautiful and distracting. They walk as men and talk as men, but are creatures not quite human. They understand the ways of men, they love as men, for they were once that themselves. They live as men, fitting without blending in, wolves in sheep's clothing. They have many names, all over the world, nosfer-atu, dearg-due, oupire, asrk-pa, vampire. All words meaning blood-sucker.
The big cat, a mountain lion, crouches, ready to leap onto the unsuspecting throat of its prey, a large stag. Its eyes are sharp with clarity, its tail swishes with anticipation for the kill and the taste of hot meat on its tougue. The vampires ready themselves too. Crouching in an attack position much like the lion. Insides burning with unquenched thirst like there is a monster trapped inside, claws tearing at their throats.
The woman attacks first, wrestling the lion to the snow blanketed forest floor in a blink of an eye. The man pounces upon the stag, cracking its neck with mercy on the struggle down. The woman gently strokes the lions large head with loving motherly fingers before breaking its neck with a resounding snap,silencing its growls. She is ravenous, the hunger, the thirst, making her out of her mind. She slits its throat with a sharp nail in one motion. The blood, shining temptingly in the moonlight, pours from the wound, staining the ground. She takes in the scent, tingling with pleasure. Then she lowers her lips to the throat of the slaughtered animal, lapping up the sea of red with her desperate tongue, long dark hair a curtain to hide this private feast. Ripping the flesh farther with sharp, quick hands, trying to get to the life of the lion, the core, to suck every last drop until it is drained dry.
The man grabs her waist from behind just as she lifts her head from the lion, bright red standing out boldly against her beautiful pale white skin, trickling slowly from her lips to her chin down her neck. The man brushes the hair softly from her shoulder and kisses the revealed throat with gossamer lips. Her head falls back onto his shoulder reveling in this newest pleasure. His tongue flicks out and licks the blood up her neck, his hands travelling over the valleys her stomach and chest. She turns in his arms to kiss his lips with a sudden ferocity, unable to hold back her desire any longer. He can taste the blood that still lingers in her mouth. Every muscle aching to touch his skin, so much like hers with its frozen paleness. He tears at the meaningless cloth that covers her body, wanting to be as close as possible to her.
They tumble in eachothers arms through the glistening white ocean of the forest floor, their bare bodies the perfect camoflage. The womans hands are wild upon the man and vice versa. They paint eachother crimson with blood, a macabre dance. Their bodies become one, perfectly syncronized together, fitting like two peices of a puzzle. They are graceful, animal-like, two predators in the cold heat of passion. They are a masterpeice of movement and sound no human could ever compose.
Their pale limbs are tangled as they lay in the snow silently. No words are needed to express their love for each other. Their love that has no limits, no restraints of time a space. Their unearthly love that will last eternity. An eternity spent in a paradise found only in each others embrace.
Fin.