HOLA! Here's chapter seven—a chapter I quite enjoy, and I hope you do as well. It is only getting better. I'm SO psyched about this story.

So, here it goes!

--

Reviews:

TheNextBestThing36: Why, thank you. I'm REALLY glad you like it/feel like swooning after a chapter.

piper1715: Yay. And I like them together more, too. Well, I did create it, so that's a little obvious. But still. I think it fits well.

--

Chapter Seven: Midnight Show.

--

Date?

Where is the camera crew that is so obviously following me, because I am either stuck in the middle of some twisted movie plot, or I'm being Punk'd.

That wasn't even funny. My life is way too boring to be a movie, and I'm way too unimportant to be on Ashton Kutcher's radar. Yet, I still felt that my stays in Bon Temps were getting more and more surreal.

It wasn't like I hadn't already thought all about this. I'd been over it way too many times, rethinking through the whole thing would be pointless. Besides, I was already much too busy rethinking the events of last night in as great a detail as I possibly could. I was much too preoccupied with this to actually have the gall to say I was happily married.

I wasn't going to lie to myself. I really wanted to go on a date with Bill. Dating a vampire sounded so… taboo. I was excited, really, so much so that when I got out of the car after we pulled up in front of the red-lit vampire bar I eagerly grabbed Bill's jacket, yanking him forward into a kiss.

By the way, I had made a mental note to suggest making out with a vampire to all of my friends. Over a hundred years of practice more than pays off.

"Hello," Bill said, as I took a step back and resumed breathing, all while smoothing my T-shirt and looking into the window to get a handle on how my hair looked—because I suddenly felt as if I was in complete disarray. I ahem-ed and looked up at him. For some reason I felt it necessary to put up a hand in a supremely lame, one-motion wave. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking at me like I just shouted profanity at the top of my lung. You know, eyebrows high, mouth turned slightly with the smallest hint of a mocking-but-kind smile, but head high like he almost didn't know me but was still worried about my well-being.

I took a breath and then nodded, "Yes. I'm… fine. I didn't think about the whole public thing though," I glanced at the entrance to the bar, where a female vampire (I know they say don't judge a book by its cover, but it's hard not to when that book is covered in a way-too-expensive satin dress and a death glare) was staring at me intensely.

Bill smiled, and grabbed my hand, "Come on, we're late."

"That was a yes, by the way," I said, "To…"

"I inferred," he said, stopping short when the female vampire stepped in front of him. I swallowed.

She looked me up and down, "You blew past me so fast last time I didn't get a chance to ask your friend's name."

"Hi," I said, shoving my free hand into my sweater's pocket. I nodded a greeting, bending at my knees like some lame curtsy, "Abby." Then I felt like slapping myself in the face. Where was the cleverness in creating an alternate persona if I forget to use the correct name?

Shit.

"You have an ID?" she asked. I started checking my pockets, before shaking my head. I'd left that at Bill's house with my purse.

"Eric is expecting us," Bill said.

Pam laughed, "I'll bet he is." She shook her head, examining me again, "Where are you finding these women?"

Bill just shook his head, probably thinking himself above a response, and pulling me through the bar. I looked around, taking in the vampires dressed in a swanky, dangerous chic—or at least that's how it's worded on TV. And then there were the humans, some looking normal, some dressed like they belonged in some gothic graphic novel—where they would be drawn so I didn't have to witness them in person. I laughed, until I saw a familiar face.

"Cassandra!?" I said, looking over at the girl, a former student of mine. She was in my advanced drama class, and played Atigone in that year's performance. That wasn't three years ago, maybe two, but not three. She couldn't be twenty-one. But what was she doing here?! She didn't belong here. She was still a kid, she had the rest of her life to go worry about--

She turned, blonde hair flying behind her as her eyes grew about seven times their normal size, "Miss T?"

Why my students continue to call me 'Miss' I shall never know. Maybe it's just habit.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" I said loudly, pulling my hand away from Bill's.

He walked over, "We really don't have the time to—"

"Shut up!" I said to him, "Cassandra?"

She turned, "Shut up, you're making everyone look over here," she said, "It's not like I'm too young to be here—"

"You're hanging around in a vampire bar," I snapped, "What the hell were you thinking? You should not be in here anyway, you're way too young—"

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," I said, "Isn't the limit twenty-one?" I asked Bill.

Bill nodded, and I shut my eyes, "You know, you have fun," I grabbed Bill's hand, "I'm—I'm going away now." I was fuming, primarily because I was sad. It sucked, seeing her fall like that. She should be off at college, living her dreams. Not at a Shreveport vampire bar, sipping bloody marys and trying to fuck a vampire.

I grabbed Bill's arm, pulling him towards Eric's office, looking in just in time to turn around quickly and run back out.

"What's wrong?" Bill asked, "If you don't want to go in, I'm not going—"

"I…"

"Abby," he said, "Is everything all right?"

Shit. Shit. Shit. "Sean's in there."

"Who?" he asked, going back to look in, but I grabbed his arm.

"SHHHHH! Don't look!" I whispered harshly, "My… um… husband, is in that room."

Bill looked angry, but I really wasn't paying attention. I felt like I couldn't breathe, but I needed to think. I looked around, "Cassandra," I said, "Come on," I dragged her into the bathroom, "I need some of your make-up."

"You do?"

"Yep," I said, "And then I won't call your parents about where you are this evening." She handed my her bag, and I went to applying enough make-up so that I did look like myself, but when combined with Jess's laid-back clothes, I didn't look like the girl from Shreveport. I looked like the one from Bon Temps. If I play my role as Alex effectively, Sean wouldn't even notice me. And if he did… oh well. I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.

Bill was already in the room with Eric, and looked up with relief when I finally walked in, "Sorry," I said, "Bathroom."

Sookie was in the room, and decided to be civil, "Hello, I'm Sookie Stackhouse," she said, walking forward and shaking my hand, "I'm sorry I overreacted when I saw you a few days ago, you must realize my shock that you were with Jessica."

Well, it wasn't as if Jessica belonged to her. Though, in all honestly, I think that she was more surprised by the fact that I was with Bill. I mean… he had it bad for her. But that surprise must have come later. Me being with Jess wasn't really a huge deal, in my opinion. Vampires can have human friends.

But if she actually thought that Bill was too into her still to venture elsewhere, and I assumed she did, that showed a bit of arrogance. Not that Sookie didn't seem nice enough, but you can be a nice person and still have an arrogant side.

This was when I remembered that she could read minds, and felt like slapping myself in the face again.

I looked up at her, her eyes were on Eric, who was discussing something with Bill in a low voice that I'm guessing she could barely hear as well.

I made a point not to look at Sean, which was no easy feat, seeing he was crazy tall, a looming force in the back of the room. He wasn't looking at me though, he was obviously looking at Sookie, who was going to work shortly after we were done here. Her skimpy work outfit kept his complete attention, and made me both angry and relieved.

Okay, if she was listening, I should probably just set her straight. Or should I? Bill said not to let Eric know who I was, he said nothing about his ex-girlfriend. Bill was just being protective though, and I knew he was right, Eric wasn't a friend to me. I didn't want to think he was an enemy either, but I didn't really know what to think.

I felt like the wrong move could send the life I'd carefully fabricated falling to the floor.

Sean was right there, and Bill was right here.

Yet he seemed so calm, like it didn't matter that my…

What was I doing? Was I cheating on Sean? I haven't had sex with Bill.

I might as well have, I mean… I wanted to.

And, if his current examination of Sookie left any sizeable example, I wasn't the only one not totally obsessed with my spouse.

I looked down; I was rationalizing. I glanced over at Sean, who was wearing his suit, needed a haircut, and was tapping his briefcase annoyingly. He was leaving soon; his mind had already left the building.

Bill realized I was looking at him, and spoke up to Eric, "Obviously, you're legal problems have yet to cease."

I looked up as Eric spoke, "No. And as soon as we find the creatures responsible for these transgressions, there will be no mercy."

I raised my eyebrows, "I'm guessing no legal action will be taken," I laughed a little, and then shut my mouth, "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Sookie said, "I was thinking the same thing."

I smiled a little, "So. Not that I don't love coming down here, but… I was wondering why it is you wanted to see me."

"I was as well," Bill leaned forward, "I cannot discern any sensible reason."

I smiled. Bill was so fun to listen to sometimes.

Eric spoke, "Well, besides being Bill's new toy—"

"She is not a toy," coincided exactly with, "I am not a toy."

Does he treat Sookie like a toy? I doubt it, she's obviously too important for that, which brought me to my main complaint about Sookie—or at least, the one that Jessica has crudely forced upon me. Why is it all about her? What did she have that was so important, that she currently had the attention of everyone in the room, even me, on a subconscious level?

I didn't know, and I didn't like that.

I was still uneasy, but she spoke for Eric, "We need some help. Eric and Pam run the bar, but vampires running a vampire bar that humans come to doesn't look to good considering the fact that people keep dying around here. We… need a human touch."

I was confused, "Wait. Aren't… you human?"

"Yes!" she said, laughing suddenly, "I mean, one that isn't involved with Eric. A human that can vouch for us, say that we're not doing anything wrong here."

"A witness," Sean spoke for the first time, looking at Bill, not me. I figured this was because Bill seemed incredibly protective in Sean's presence, "They need someone human to say that the bar is fine. I need to leave, so, excuse me, everyone. I will be seeing you again shortly, Mr. Northman."

Eric nodded, and Sean just walked out, glancing at me for just a moment, but not long enough to have an actual reaction at my resemblance to his wife. I mean, me.

'Your bar just let in a kid,' I thought, thinking of Cassandra.

"As long as she doesn't drink, we're good," Sookie laughed.

I smiled, "That's it?"

"Well, is there something else you would like to do?" Eric asked, smirking.

"No," Bill answered for me, "You couldn't have done this over the phone?"

"Well, I wanted to meet your new girlfriend in person," Sookie said, "Sue me."

"I believe that's already happening," I muttered, and Bill laughed quietly.

"We should go," Bill said.

Eric looked up, "She hasn't answered yet."

"I don't think I'm going to do that," I said, "But I'll think about it."

He didn't look too happy about my response, which is probably why Bill whisked me out of the room after a quick apology, saying that he would talk to me, but we did have to leave.

I felt like I was going to pee myself—I'd never been so scared in my entire life. My secret was so close to being totally revealed, it seemed almost… wrong that Sean didn't recognize me. It wasn't like I had a huge reason to be afraid though, I mean, I was currently with a vampire, how much scarier did it get? That vampire was currently gripping my arm tightly, pulling me through the bar as I stumbled behind him. My head was flying around, trying to get a handle on the bar before I left, trying to understand why someone would come here—accidentally locking eyes with a man sitting in the back, who soon arrived next to me.

"This man bothering you, miss?" he asked, grabbing Bill's wrist an effectively stopping him.

I swallowed, "Oh, no, not at all," I said, trying to sound… something. My voice was different.

"Why don't you come along with me?" he asked, head tilting to the side, voice calm, soothing.

"I… I have to go," I said, wanting to look towards the door, but not feeling… able to.

He was kind of cute, blonde, green eyes, "I think you'd rather come with me…"

"I…" I felt like I was falling, from a really, really, high place. There was air all around me, and an unending abyss that I could just sink into, gently float to the ground like a piece of falling paper. I was hooked, every word he said was tinged with sweetness that oozed out of his mouth and into my ears like honey. I felt… safe.

"Leave her alone," I heard Bill said vaguely, stepping between us. I shook my head, looking around; we were feet away from the door. I looked at Bill's back as he continued, "Do not touch her." I wrung my hands, trying to get my thoughts straight. I looked over and saw Cassandra, who was currently studying me as I weakly shook myself sane again.

"I didn't," the other vampire said, who I could no longer see, "Touch her."

"Do not speak to her," he said, "And do not glamour her."

I swallowed. A sense of alarm was slowly spreading up my spine, and made me back up until I could find a better sense of balance. The other vampire laughed, "Oh, come on, we're just having a little fun."

"She is mine." I felt my eyes get huge. I stumbled forward, tripping little, grabbing onto the back of Bill's jacket to steady myself, and at the same time clamping down onto my lip until it started bleeding, at which point I kept it in my mouth and hoped no vampire saw it.

Eric exited his office, at which point I grabbed Bill's jacket, "Time to go."

He nodded, looking at the vampire who was no longer speaking, just looking after us in a gloomy fashion, and put me in front of him, guiding me out the door and to his car.

"Are you all right?" was the first thing he asked. I looked at him blankly, once again digesting what happened. "Abby?" He put a hand on my cheek, leaning in and making sure I was all right. Bill had pretty eyes, blue and soft, despite the current stern stance his jaw held.

"What happened?" I asked, swallowing, "I feel weird."

He smiled, leaning back in his seat, "You were glamoured."

"I don't know what that is," I said slowly, shaking my head.

He rolled his eyes, "It's kind of like… a mind control," he said, "the vampire kind of lures you into his head."

I buttoned my sweater up, suddenly feeling a little cold. "Since when am I yours?" I joked, glancing over at him as he started the car.

"Since that man tried to whisk you away," he said darkly, "He wanted to feed off of you."

I touched my neck, "Why me? There were tons of humans in there—hell, Cassandra's like four, I didn't see him glamouring her."

Bill chuckled, "You are so pleasantly unaware of how attractive you are." I blushed, sliding my hands against my jeans, "It probably didn't help that I was already holding your hand and taking you out of there, it was like a challenge. And, he was newly made, and newer vampires come with a sense of undeserved confidence."

I laughed, "So… the whole possession thing does what, exactly?"

"Makes it known that only I can feed off of you," Bill said simply, and I felt my blush deepen.

"Is it against the law to feed off of another vampire's…"

"Human," Bill finished, "Yes. But some vampires feed off of humans for… recreational purposes, not because they're in relationships—"

"We're in a relationship," I muttered, incredulous.

"So, don't just assume that every human/vampire interaction you see is romantic."

I sagged into my seat, "I can't believe Sean didn't even recognize me." I totally changed the subject, but that thought had been poking the back of my mind like crazy.

"Are you really? After everything you've told me, I don't think it's such a stretch."

I looked over, "Someone's bitter."

"I just do not understand how you could be married to that man," Bill said, "He doesn't seem right for you at all."

"And you do?" I asked, smirking a bit.

"No—"

"No?"

"Stop it," he said, smiling, "You know what I mean."

"I'm going to talk to him when I go back," I said, nodding. "I've decided."

"What brought that on?" he asked.

I looked out onto the road. "It just feels like the right thing to do." And I really liked hearing, 'She is mine,' in reference to myself. It was something I could really get used to—was that weird? Yes. It was.

I didn't understand myself sometimes. Well, I didn't understand myself most of the time. I put much of my thinking into the philosophical side of myself, trying to rationalize and explain my own thoughts and actions in the best way possible, until I find something that makes a lick of sense.

When posed with the question, "Why, oh why, dear Abigail, are you constantly wondering whether you're happy?" I can only discern one appropriate answer. Of course, I'd been asking myself this question numerous times recently and finally feeling its answer culminate as I sat in the car and admitted aloud that being honest with both myself and Sean with actual words from my actual mouth, "Feels like the right thing to do." That answer, though, wasn't in any way simple, but I thought that in some way it had to make some sort of sense. We (humans, vampires, whatever you will) are constantly searching for the chance, the slight possibility, of the smallest, simplest, most basic definition of happiness.

That's what all this is about—being happy.

Now, some of us (take for example, my travelling companion) have more time to find it than others (take for example, me). But in either allotment of time we are given on Earth, we're looking for the same thing, a reason to be happy, to look back on our lives in those final moments before we're sent to rot in the ground (or whatever happens when you die) and smile.

I know it sounds like some weirdo-psycho-babble, but I'm not trying to sit behind a desk and offer psychiatric advice for five cents like I'm Lucy from Peanuts—I would charge way more than five cents, anyway.

So, I'm constantly questioning my happiness because I want to be happy.

This brings me to point two in my overly-analytical brain: if I'm questioning whether I'm happy, then the odds are, I'm probably not happy.

It was simple enough, and it makes sense. Yet still, I was… nervous about talking to him—Sean, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was the right thing to do.

It was kind of cool outside, I realized that when I stepped out of the car, and I pulled down the sleeves of my sweater.

"I just don't think it was… amazing," Bill said, looking over the car at me.

I shook my head, "It was excellent, and frustrating, the two most important aspects of a great book. Not every story has a happy ending," I shut the door, "Not that I don't adore stories with happy endings."

"But," he stopped to let me walk in front of him; Bill was such a gentleman, "Gone With the Wind?"

"Yes!" I said, "Why is that so hard to believe!?"

"I just didn't think that'd be one of your favorites."

"It's not my favorite," I said, "My favorite is…"I bit my lip, leaning against the railing in front of his house and tapping my foot as I thought, "It's a tie."

"Of course it is. Between whom?"

"Hm," I said, "Great Expectations1984… Oh! To Kill a Mockingbird—NO! Girl, Interrupted was fantastic. And there's Pride & Predjudice," I looked at Bill, who was looking back at me with an eyebrow that was reaching to touch the sky, "Okay, fine. Great Expectations. My favorite book of all time. What about you, Mr. Compton?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," he said, completely serious.

I started laughing, "Are you joking?!"

"Nope," he said, "I loved that book."

"Favorite poet?" I asked, twirling on the stairs and walking inside.

"That one," Bill said, "Actually is a tie."

"Between?" I asked, throwing my bag back on the couch and walking back towards the kitchen, him close behind.

"Langston Hughes," he started, and I interjected with my approval before he continued, "And… Emily Dickinson. She was crazy, but she was good."

"Oh my gosh!" I said turning quickly in front of the fridge, eagerly grabbing onto Bill's arms as he leaned forward to steady me, "My two favorites are Edgar Allen Poe—I've been in love with "The Raven" since I was ten, and…" I paused for dramatic effect, "Emily Dickinson," I grinned, "I love her." I squeezed his arms.

"You sure you want some caffeine?" he asked, reaching past me to open the fridge and grab a bottle of Tru Blood.

"Yes," I said, grabbing a coke, "Caffeine is a necessity when you're human, my dear vampire friend."

He smiled, "You're in a good mood."

"I am," I said, "I don't really know why, considering your ex-girlfriend wants me to testify on her behalf, and we just ran into my ex-husband—I didn't just say that," I shook my head, "Wow. I'm losing it."

"And you were glamoured," Bill said, effectively skipping over my faux-pas with nothing but a noticeable smirk, "You are probably just disoriented, especially because you remember it; that makes it worse," he leaned forward and pointed to make his point.

"Gimme," I said, grabbing his Tru Blood and heading for the microwave, "Settings, m'dear?"

"Three minutes," he said, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," I said, "Jess and Hoyt here or out?" I looked around, listening for the creak of excited feet rumbling around upstairs.

"Here," he said, "Not sure what they're up to."

"Me neither," I said, setting the microwave and turning back to face him, "What type of music do you listen to? I've noticed our car rides have been primarily filled with conversation."

"Various artists," he said, shrugging.

"Soundtracks?" I teased, "What, you listen to Hairspray on your way to Fangtasia?"

"Not funny," he said, "I just listen to… a lot."

"I picture you as a… classical kind of guy. Maybe with some weirdo cultural stuff thrown in—my dad was like that. Not classical, that was me after I turned… like… fifteen and heard Chopin in my music appreciation class," I shrugged, "But my dad listened to some weird stuff. He was this really big history buff, and got really into world music. He listened to everything from like, African tribal music to, like… that weird Chinese string instrument that sounds all… whiny… Ehrd?"

"Ehru," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes!" I said, "That was weird."

He laughed, "So, you enjoy classical music?"

"Well, I also have a wide variety of musical tastes," I said, "I like pretty much everything."

He nodded, "That doesn't surprise me."

The microwave beeped, and I handed him his drink, "Oh, this is warm."

"That tends to happen when you put something in the microwave," he smiled.

"Snarky," I chastised, "Is that… good?"

"Why do you ask?" he looked at me curiously, "Do you want some?"

"Ew. No," I said, shaking my head, "I just imagine it'd be like living on tofu."

"Do you like tofu?" he asked.

I shrugged, "Sometimes. But why eat tofu when you can go buy a cheeseburger for a buck?"

"Healthier," he said.

"True," I said, leaning against the counter, "But I guess that's why you're the vampire, and I'm the human with no real self-control."

"I wouldn't say you have no control," he said, laughing at me quietly. I frowned.

"Eh," I said, biting my lip, and then remembering that I accidentally bit it too hard earlier, "Ow."

"Hm?" Bill asked, watching me as I raised a hand to my lip, touching it, and pulling back to see blood.

"Ugh," I said, and then looked at him, "Oh, but I bet you enjoy this don't you?"

"You're such a tease," he said.

I giggled, "A tease? Ooh la la," I licked my lip once, watching him watch me with a serious concentration I had never witnessed before, "This is seriously driving you a little mad, isn't it?"

His eyes flickered up to mine, and he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine, slowly dragging his tongue against my bottom lip, causing my entire body to almost convulse with buzzing excitement. But, I kept myself under control, my body deflating as he finished.

I pulled back a bit, blushing immensely, "That's a yes."

"Nice inference," he smirked.

I swallowed. "So… cheeseburger?"

He shrugged, "In your scenario, yes."

I blinked, "Interesting."

We sat there for a moment, me sipping my Coca Cola, he his synthetic blood.

"If we move to the couch, and, like, watch TV, is it going to be awkward?"

"Only if you make it that way," he said, getting up and walking past me. I scowled as he walked, and then ran after him after he called, "Are you coming?"

"I'm here," I said, emerging from the other room, "What's on?"

"The news," he said, "And… nothing."

"Wow," I said, looking as he quickly flipped through the guide, "You're right."

I yawned. Bill turned a bit, pulling me between his legs and allowing me to rest my head on his chest—which I did, but with a substantial amount of red gracing my cheeks. "If Jessica comes downstairs, she's just going to get crude and scathing," I muttered.

"I'll hear her," he said, "She's very loud."

"You're surprisingly comfortable," I observed while looking around the room, taking in the cracked paint on the walls and the smell of dust—which I had, also surprisingly, grown accustomed to, "I mean—well, you know what I mean."

"Sure," he said, chuckling a little.

I felt nervous. And hot. It was like I was drunk; warmth was slowly spreading through my body, making me bite my lip again and cross my arms to try to regain my confidence. I was so dumb, sitting here like a moron trying to keep my heart rate down and my body temperature from rising.

Here's the thing, though: it's CRAZY hard to keep your body temperature down, even if you're laying on the couch with a vampire. And the heart rate thing? I might as well have been trying to stop a speeding train.

The thought of that made me giggle—I mean, picturing me running next to a train, yelling at it to stop. The noise made Bill look at me curiously.

I smiled, and went back to looking at the television. A reporter was currently interviewing a schoolteacher on the importance of new taxes to benefit education. I stopped paying attention—I didn't really care. I know, I know that I should care, but I talk about that almost every day, I don't need someone telling me what I already knew. I was just happy to have the noise in the background to pull my head away from my thoughts—all centered around the most random of subjects.

I could see a cat in the shadows on the wall. I decided to name it Shay—I'm not sure why, I didn't even really like that name. I did like Bill's hand on my arm, cold, but comforting. It was weird to think that so many people would want to be with a vampire just because they were a vampire.

Here I was, with a vampire, but it didn't really feel any different. I didn't really care what he was; he was just a little cooler than your average man.

The lights on the TV changed, and my cat was gone.

"Was it really sucky? Seeing her there this evening?" I asked.

His head rolled to the other side, resting against the couch and looking down at me. I turned a bit to get a better view as he said, "Why?"

I rolled my eyes, "Why do you always ask that?"

He didn't answer right away, probably because he realized my answer was really just a deflection of his question. I never really knew what it was like, having an ex-something that you were once in love with. My exes were all just… boyfriends who didn't really matter—which is why we were no longer together. My life lacked messy break-ups.

"Because you always ask odd questions," he observed.

"So?" I prodded, looking back at the TV, "What's it like?"

"I wouldn't use the same term you did," he said, "But it's not necessarily enjoyable."

I nodded, "That blows."

"It could have been worse," he said, hand still on my arm, breath coming out on my hair… My lips were still tingling from that last kiss; the thought of it made my toes curl.

"Oh, fuck it," I muttered, sliding up and crashing my lips against his, my hand wrapping up around his neck. His hands moved to my waist, helping me as I spun to face him.

"Charming," he muttered, smiling into the kiss and lifting me up closer to him.

I wrenched my arms out of my sweater, tossing it somewhere, simultaneously disconnecting my mouth to breathe before Bill yanked me back towards him. I slid my hands into his hair, as Bill started unbuttoning my jeans and sliding them down my thighs. I disconnected our lips and allowed him to travel down my neck, my head barely being able to stand up straight as my breath dragged in and out of me in slow, breathy huffs.

I felt his hands travel lower, and lower, wrapping around my thighs and picking me up to throw me back against the other side of the couch. I let out a gasp, sliding down and connecting with his lips again, feeling his fangs as my tongue slipped inside his mouth.

I shuddered. He slipped my jeans off the rest of the way, following quickly with my underwear. I was whimpering against him, removing his shirt, as his hand slid down and touched the small bundle of nerves at my core. I gasped again, this time loud enough that Bill's mouth had to silence me. He worked me for a while, long enough that soon I was twisting with need. I slid myself down, narrowing my eyes as I disconnected our mouths, looking at him with purpose a I unbottoned his pants.

He smirked, sliding inside of me so quickly that I didn't even think to try to keep myself quiet. Luckily, he did, kissing me once again.

I didn't know what to think. I had thoughts floating through my head, but I wasn't really thinking, I was just observing, trying to make sure I didn't make too much noise and blow our cover—the last thing I needed was Jess walking downstairs and seeing me in such a compromising position.

I kept rising, becoming more and more enthralled with this that I couldn't even try to piece actual sentences together in my head. Bill had finally let my lips free, and I was breathing much more easily, and I looked up at him, my hand sliding down from his neck to his cheek, his attention already directly on me, as if I was the only girl in the world. Suddenly I felt a little embarrassed again, and could feel the blood rush up to my cheeks, as I finally got out, "Go ahead."

He looked at me curiously. I rolled my eyes, "I know you want to," I muttered, letting out a sharp moan as he hit just the right spot, "Please, do it." I shut my eyes, as his lips grazed my neck quickly, before I felt an acute pain in its side. I bit my lip hard, and let out a soft moan as I felt his tongue lick the wound in my neck, his lips suck at it, until I could barely control myself anymore, and was soon hit with a violent release, like my entire body was in a momentary freefall, and I was left breathing heavily. My body was coated in a sheen of sweat that shimmered as I moved in the moonlight peaking in through the window. Bill fell down next to me, lips still cleaning up the blood from my neck. It was surprising how large a couch could be when it needed to be large.

It felt like seconds, but as I glanced at the television, it seemed we'd been at it for the rest of the news and then some—I still wasn't sure how long that was.

I didn't want to move. My entire body was throbbing; I could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.

I pulled my shirt down, covering much of me, while still trying to get my head straight. When Bill was finished, and my neck was deemed clean he sat up, suddenly vanished, and appeared next to me on the floor, buttoning his shirt.

I blinked, "Hi."

"Hi," he said, turning and kissing me. I could taste the coppery taste of my blood in his mouth. I didn't really know what to think of it. It wasn't as if I'd never tasted blood before—when you cut your finger, the first thing you do is shove it in your mouth. "How are you feeling?"

"Like laying here forever," I smiled, "But I don't think that would work." I sat up, shaking my head slowly, and grabbing my pants.

I pulled on my clothes, taking a deep breath and standing up, "What are you looking at?"

"You," he said, standing and sliding his arms around me.

I rolled my eyes, "Corny," I turned and kissed him again, "Escort me to the kitchen?"

"Of course," he said.

--

Well, that's all for now. I'm starting chapter two as SOON as I post this, I have too many ideas, and much too little time.

Love it? Like it? Hate it? I don't care which it is, just let me know, and…

Review!!!

Please and thank you. :)