My muses do not want me to have a life. This is the product of thinking after dark with a custom Gory doll nearby, and Vampires Everywhere! making sure I can never listen to Katy Perry again. Enjoy.
Teenage Dream
He thought she was beautiful without makeup. Their fingers were laced over the table at their favorite diner, his head supported by the hand that wasn't laced with hers. Her cheeks were coated in their natural, light flush. It was too early for any of the other vampires to notice they left campus for breakfast, but that was the way surprises went.
"Oh god, I screwed that up," she muttered, blushing even further at her attempt at breaking the ice with a joke. He chuckled, regardless, and brushed his thumb softly over her knuckles, "I thought it was flawless."
The blush on her cheeks subsided. Instantly, the fearleading captain wasn't trying so hard.
That was what he liked about her.
...
The holidays had come and gone and her father had left her in this godforsaken school again. With his family back in Ireland, Bram knew the sting rather well. He saw her lingering by the large library windows and slid a box of conversation hearts into her sleeve, hoping they reached her hand, "Happy Valentine's Day."
"It's Christmas," she muttered, staring out at the falling snow.
"It's always Valentine's Day when you're around."
Her eyes flicked back to him. He wiped the tears in the corners of her eyes away, kissing her lips softly, "What happened before now doesn't matter anymore, Gory...I'm with you."
Her arms wound around his neck, tugging him close to her. Her fingers locked in his shirt, keeping him against her as she kissed him in return. He pushed her back gently, kissing her cheeks to disperse the tears, "Shh."
"I want to," she whispered, "I want to go all the way with you. You're the only one who's ever given a damn about me."
He shook his head, softly kissing her once more, "I don't want to take advantage of you."
"What if I could promise you there'd be no regrets in the morning?" Her breath was soft, warm, sweet like honey against his lips. He sighed, running his hands slowly over her back, "We'll be young forever. There's no hurry."
She hesitated, but she leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I love you."
...
She threw open the door to his bedroom and rushed into his arms. He encased her in warmth, dropping his book to hold her. "What's wrong?" he murmured, soothed by the soft kisses she pressed to his neck.
"I can't sleep," she murmured, "I was thinking about you. How happy you make me."
She was turning him on, but he couldn't say a word. His fingers ran through her hair, the soft graze of her fangs against his neck making him ready to groan, "Yes, my love?"
"Let's run away together," she murmured, continuing her merciless kissing, "Let's just go. Never look back."
He recoiled, holding her at arms length. She was beautiful in her red silk pajamas, "Are you sure about this? It's risky at best. We'll probably get kicked out of school."
If her heart could've skipped a beat, it would've the way he looked at her. The way he touched her made her feel like a treasure. A smile broke her face as she whispered, "Can you be packed in an hour?"
"We don't even have a way to leave," he muttered softly.
"Let me take care of that."
They were driving to California within two hours, racing against the sun in a cheap Chevy convertible that was probably thirty years too old and hundreds of dollars back in repair, but it had come with a twelve pack in the back seat and a radio pre-set to the classic rock stations, so they were happy. She cheered as the wind whipped her hair. It took them hours, but they reached the coast before dawn. The ocean was simply miles and miles of dark water, as far as the eye could see. Instead of going out to swim in it, they climbed out and sat on the hood of the car for drinks.
He figured out quickly that she couldn't stomach alcohol. She ditched her heels in the car and went stumbling onto the sand, up to the knee-deep water. Her skin-tight jeans were enough incentive for him to follow her. She outstretched her arms like she was on the Titanic and threw back her head, "You're perfect for me, Bram."
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back to his chest, "You're flawless anyway."
...
They bedded down in a motel, drunk enough to act upon their whim. They stuck apart a pair of chairs and stripped the bed of its sheets, making a grand fort out of the sheets where they lay, protected from the sun, the stupor of alcohol wearing off as his fingers caressed the waistband of her jeans. If either of their hearts could beat the way a human's could, they would've been racing. Their eyes were locked, his hand running slowly back and forth across her stomach.
"It's alright," she muttered, "You can touch me."
Softly, his hand ran down to her knee, tugging her close. She squeaked in glee, tumbling against his chest. He laughed and growled playfully, craning his head to kiss her neck softly, over and over again. He could feel her fangs begging for purchase. The desperate tugging of her hands trying to liberate the buttons of his shirt from the holes. He paused for a moment, catching her hands, "We have time, baby. Take your time. We have forever."
