CHAPTER FOUR: Mitchell
Mitchell and Annie had to take the bus back to the shared home, which Mitchell complained about pretty much constantly, wishing for his car back, talking about buying a new one with steadily increasing desperation. He refused to allow himself to indulge in the true reason for his hatred of public transport, the reason why he walked more and more often, the reason his whole body was fighting off tremors right now. Annie's hand rested on his left leg, his own hand over hers, and he was ever so thankful of the lack of people on the bus. He tried to battle against his senses, turn them away from what they were striving to hear, the pulsing, thudding, whispering breathing and life of the few food sources on the bus – no! He would not indulge, these were people, humans, innocent. He would not take their lives.
He put his head in his hands, and Annie moved her hand onto his shoulder, frowning gently at him. "Mitchell?" she murmured. "Next stop." His voice was only just audible but he knew she registered it as he trebled again, feeling a bitter metallic taste in the back of his throat. He had to get a grip… "But we've got another three stops before-" his voice, as soft as it was right now, was sharp enough to cut her off, "Next stop, Annie." She didn't respond to him and he felt her move her cold hands off of his skin.
Mitchell stood silently as the bus slid to a gentle stop, moving off as quickly as he could, ignoring the glances from the people as he passed them. His throat burned and he saw Annie's worried face as she walked next to him down the empty streets. "Just needed some fresh air." The intensity of his accent gave away the tremor of his voice, the insecurity. "Mitchell…" Annie caught his hand with hers, forcing him to turn around and look at her, look into her eyes; his own were intense at the moment. The soft brown filled with pain and fear – he couldn't hide that from her, the raw emotion, and she pulled him into a tight hug. His whole body tensed as he inhaled; she didn't smell like living creatures did, though.
Her scent wasn't there in place, solid, like it was for most creatures. Her scent was faint, changing with her – the stronger she felt, the more human she felt, the more powerful her smell would be. It was a light brush of perfume in the air, like sunflowers, mixed with the vague smell of humanity. It was nice not to worry about the smell of blood, the thing that tortured him most. With a sigh, Mitchell pulled away, shaking his head. "Annie…" he murmured, stroking a hand down her cheek, "I'm sorry, but I'm not good company right now. The others forget … they don't understand. This is … difficult. I'm fighting against what I am." He leant his back to the wall, watching her face as she looked away from him, and he swallowed. "Really have to buy a car." He tried to make his voice lighter, more jokey, but she just gave him an almost pitying look, taking his hand again.
The cold skin tingled and without a word, they turned towards home and began to walk again. Every scent on the bus still burnt in his throat, every thought he'd had even for a second filled him with shame, and he knew Annie could feel the tension in him, the struggle. He knew she remembered how he'd acted before, so crazed… so lost on blood. He wondered if she had ever worked out what was wrong with him. Because he knew…
He'd been so close to the edge like this before..
And he knew what it ended with.
Author Note: Hi guys! I've been uploading a chapter a day of this but without reviews I'm having trouble getting motivated. I don't if it's because people don't read the English ones or what, but really… reviews, please! Anything…