Blood Lust
'I'm jealous of this stocking.'
'Why?'
'Because it does what I can't. Kisses your whole leg. And I'm jealous of this button.'
'Poor, innocent button.'
'It's not innocent at all. It's with you all day. I'm not.'
The End of the Affair (1955) . . .
Lord, my ears are ringing from Caroline's screams. I feel sorry for the people that are sitting around us. Today topped any of my previous lunch experiences with her; even the day after she saw her dad kissing another man.
Caroline had called about Troy last night, but I was still at the boarding house and missed the call. Needless to say, her neurotic energy was pent up. She made recount the whole night in graphic detail. She kept saying 'gross' yet didn't want me to stop telling her story. I was expecting her to ask me why Damon and I didn't break up, but she never did. Surprisingly, she's on the fence about the situation. She would have found it romantic if Damon hadn't turned Troy into a bloody wreck. Caroline's always been a sucker for the White Knight types. I, of course, reminded her that I'm dating a Knight In Shining Grease. I swear that greasers find pleasure in violent behavior for the sake of being rebellious. At the word 'grease', she gave me a distasteful look and added, "That's unfortunate".
I'm dying to know if the incident has spread like wildfire, but Caroline hasn't been around town to report. So I'll be going in blind on Monday. Just my luck.
Once my lunch hour was over, I walked the short distance from our table in the park to the hospital.
I'm standing in the elevator waiting to get to the basement. One more floor to go.
The elevator doors open and I make a right turn in the direction of the blood bank.
You've got to be kidding me! I can't believe my eyes.
"Hallelujah! Thank the Lord for that uniform!" Damon says scanning my body from head to toe.
How long has he been standing in this hallway? He takes my silence as an opportunity to circle around me to further admire my white nursing dress.
"What are you doing here?" I ask crossing my arms with a pointed look.
"Seeing my baby vamp in action." His hand dips into his leather jacket to pull out a box of chocolates. "And give you this."
Vampire? How clever because I love the study of blood. I take the candy assuming he wants a truce between us. This is the candy that he never got to buy me last night on our failure of a date. At least it's dark chocolate, the way I prefer it, I think admiring the gold box.
"Thanks." I say with a tight smile. I'm still not comfortable with how he handled the Troy situation. "Now that you've seen me, it's time to go."
"I just got here. What? No sugar?" He asks puckering his lips, making noises. I forget how outrageous he can be.
I roll my eyes, not buying into any of his charm. "Damon. Leave."
"One kiss." He says pinning me against the back wall. "Just one kiss."
"You're gonna get me in trouble. My boss is uptight about philandering. So you better leave or tap a vein." I say seriously, trying to avoid his lips. The task is more difficult than I want to admit. Of course, I want to kiss him.
"Okay." I say after give him a quick smooch. I'm relieved that he's going to leave without making a scene.
"I'll play along and donate." He says as he backs off me, putting a more socially acceptable distance between our bodies.
"I don't have time for this."
"What? Don't you always need blood? I'm able and willing. Where do I sign up?"
I look at him knowing that he's going to be stubborn. I don't understand why he wants to do it. To spend 30 minutes with me? A little dramatic, then again, it is Damon.
"Fine. But you have to leave after it's over." I say and start walking in the direction of the blood bank.
"They'll get you started on the paperwork." I say pointing to the girls at the desk.
"I thought you were going to do it?" He asks confused.
Is that alarm I see in his eyes?
"I am not a receptionist." I say matter-of-factly pointing to my white hat.
I watch him pout, but he won't give up. He walks up to the desk where the girls eagerly ask for his ID.
Ten minutes later, I walk into the waiting room holding my clipboard to retrieve him. "Damon Salvatore." I call his name, attempting to not look amused.
I can't believe we're going to do this. He really is something else.
Damon stands up looking anxious. I tilt my head at him to follow me. I take him down the halls, finding the an empty room. I open the door and tell him to take a seat on the bed.
He shrugs his jacket off. I notice that he is dressed ready to work, a ringer shirt with dirty jeans and engineer boots. "Shouldn't you be at work?" I ask with a raised brow.
He gives me a crooked smile. "Well, yeah. In two hours."
"Okay, please answer the screening questions to the best of your knowledge." I say like a tired robot. I can't count the number of times that I've done this.
I look down at the clipboard. "Name."
He doesn't answer. I look up and glare at him, pretty sure I hate this procedure more than he does.
He gives a lazy scoff and answers. "Damon Salvatore."
"Date of birth."
"November 18 1934."
I perk up realizing that his birthday is exactly one month from today. "Your birthday is coming up." I comment.
"It is. You know what would make a perfect gift? A sweet cherry." Damon answers complete with a look that makes my knees weak. Leave it to him to make jokes about my virginity.
I swallow trying to calm down, to think of anything other than his lips on my skin. "Do you weigh over 130 pounds?"
"What do you think?" He answers with his usual smirk. I look up at him and tap my right foot.
"Yes." He answers realizing I won't break procedure.
"In the past 12 hours, have you consumed any alcoholic drinks?" I ask him with a raised brow. He usually drinks a beer during a meal. I can tell he's actually thinking about this question.
"Sober as of Sunday morning." He answers after counting in his head.
I can't hide my curiosity when the next question comes up. "In the past 12 months, have you spent more than 72 hours in jail or prison?"
He replies instantly. "Nope."
"Have you ever injected Heroin?"
He flinches at the question. Why is he surprised that we ask that? It's damn important.
He frowns. "No."
"Have you ever- even once- participated in sexual intercourse with another man?"
"That's a question?" He asks with a queasy face.
"The last one." I say in a bored tone.
We're silent and I'm trying not to laugh.
Time passes, okay, I've had enough with the silence. I stare at him impatiently.
"No!" He exclaims looking alarmed.
"Congratulations, you passed the requirements to donate today, Mr. Salvatore." I say teasingly.
I let out a small giggle, because it is adorable seeing my tough greaser flustered. I mark down the additional check boxes on the sheet and leave the clipboard on the counter.
I grab the blood pressure cuff and walk over to him. "Roll up your sleeve, dear." I say in my best old lady voice.
Damon smirks at the term of endearment and does as asked. I'm joking, I would never call him dear. I slide the cuff on and listen with my stethoscope. Unfortunately, he interrupts me while I'm counting.
"You look very sexy at work." He purrs gazing at me in a salacious manner.
"Be quiet." I scold him with a quick glare. "Now I have to start over."
His blood pressure is 160/90, which is perfectly normal. I remove the cuff and record the results on the clipboard. I pick up the thermometer and walk back over to him.
"Open up." I order while studying the lips that I've come to intimately know so well.
"Elena?" He laughs at me. Oh, I must have been daydreaming for a second.
I return to my professional stance and focus while sliding the thermometer under one side of his tongue, into the far back of his mouth. I wait for 3 minutes to pass until I can read the correct temperature.
I remove the thermometer from his mouth and hold it out to read it. He's 89. He runs a bit hotter than most people, but it's nothing to worry about. We can continue.
"You're hot." I tease him as I dispose the thermometer's cap.
"I know." He replies looking pleased with himself.
I move on to take his pulse. I step closer to him grabbing his wrist, while looking down at the stopwatch that hangs around my neck. He takes the opportunity to kiss my neck making me squirm. I sigh and start over, but he does it again. I roll my eyes in exasperation.
"Very cute. Just don't be doing that when I pin you." I say, trying to stay calm. "Alright, Mr. Salvatore, you're eligible to donate blood today." I say ceremonially. "I'll be back in a minute."
When I walk back into the room with the supplies, he's studying me in a strange manner.
"What?" I ask because it's unnerving to not know what he's thinking.
"You're going to draw my blood." He deadpans.
"Yeah?" I retort confused. "You're the one that signed up."
"No, I mean, you're going to it. Not someone else." He clarifies.
"Oh." I look at him with a slight pout. "Do you want someone else do it?"
"No way." He says instantly. "I just didn't realize that this is what you do all day."
"Uh huh." I nod. "This is fairly basic, considering I want to be a Hematologist."
"Yeah, but there's needles..." He trails off.
"Damon, are you afraid of needles?" I ask him with a sincere smile. "It's okay if you are... it's better that I know."
"Don't be ridiculous." He replies defensively with a grunt.
"Alright." I say drawled out. "Well, there's a needle called the butterfly. It was invented for people with sensitive veins. I could use it if you want. I just need to get one from the cabinet."
"I am not sensitive!" He scoffs.
"Fine, fine, forget that I mentioned it." I say waving my hands in surrender. I love riling him up. It's honestly payback for all his sharp tricks when we make out.
"How often am I allowed to do this?" He asks casually.
He takes me off gaurd with the question. "Every 56 days."
I label three specimen tubes with his name and date of birth. I pull out a metal tray to lay everything out in the correct order. I grab a fresh pair of gloves so I can begin.
"Left or right arm?" I always ask 'cause people tend to have a preference.
He extends his left arm out to me. I'm reminded of his muscles and how strong he is. Truthfully, I rub his arm longer than I would with any other donor.
I look down at his inner arm to find a strong looking vein. After feeling confident about one, I place a tourniquet on his upper arm, making it tight enough for the vein to pop up further. I look down closely, trying to decide which angle of entry will be the best.
"No kissing." I remind him seriously as I'm ready to proceed. I could hurt him if he makes any sudden movements.
With the calmness that comes with practice, I'm ready to insert the needle into his arm. I find it better to do it in one complete motion. My patients rarely complain about my technique.
Except that right before I puncture his skin, he moves away, slightly surprising me. Children are known to be jumpy like that, but I never work with children at the blood bank.
I study him in concern. "Why are you doing this if you're afraid of needles?" I question seriously. I won't laugh at him, because I understand it can be a serious fear for some people.
"I'm not afraid of anything." He replies stubbornly.
I raise a knowing brow at him. "Your body says otherwise... you wouldn't have moved away."
"I don't why I did!" He exclaims, still charged with bravado. "It was a reflex."
"Okay." I shrug. "Let's try again then." I pat his arm again looking for the same strong vein. After finding it, I go for a second try.
Damon pulls away again.
I sigh loudly because I'm becoming less enthusiastic about this idea. "Damon, it's okay. You don't have to do this."
"I need to do this for you." He makes it sound like he owes it to me.
Is this because of our fight last night? As if he's trading spilled blood for donated blood.
"If you say so, babe... just don't look at the needle. Look anywhere else. Some find that easier."
"Unbutton the top of your dress." He requests instantly.
I scoff in response. Of course, he would think of something like that.
"Your breasts will distract me. Show me." He adds with a playful grin.
"Not going to happen." I say sternly. There's a window on the room's door. I refuse to lose my job over this.
"Is this some kind of game to you? Are you faking?"
"What? No." He shakes his head in earnest.
"Breathe, please. Just relax... I'll be gentle. It only hurts for a second when it goes in." I promise in a soothing voice.
"I bet you say that to all the boys." He quips.
I find the vein for the third time. I'm about to pierce his skin, but I pause mid-motion to purposely distract him.
"Want me to give you head?" I ask in a seductive voice.
I watch triumphantly as the needle disappears into his skin. I hit the vein on first puncture, I'm that good.
"Ha! Got you!" I say teasingly and stick my tongue out at him.
Damon blinks quickly and stutters for a second. "...to distract me."
"Correct." I push the vacutainer into the holder, keeping the needle steady. I watch his blood fill the tube. I like the color of his blood. It's darker than most that I've seen.
I wait for the tube to fill before replacing it with another.
I'm rather mesmerized watching his dripping blood. It's, after all, the river of life. This is Damon's river and he's sharing it with me.
"You were joking." He says uncomfortably.
I remain silent, still studying his blood.
"That was a mean trick you pulled." He adds in a collected voice.
Damon's words break me out of my poetic thoughts. I'm chuckling while adjusting the last tube. He scowls at me the entire time that it takes to fill.
Once I have all tubes filled, I pull the needle out from the same angle of entry. I toss it into the sharps container and press a gauze square against his arm. I tear a small piece of tape to hold it in place.
I collect all of the tubes in one hand and gently swish them around. With a final note on the clipboard, Damon is now a successful blood donor.
"We're done." I say looking pleased.
Damon shrugs back into his jacket without tearing his gaze from me. I sigh turning to open the door. Damon stops my hand from turning the knob. He brings my hand down and holds it in his.
"What's going on?" I ask looking up at him.
"We have a big problem."
"What are you talking about?" I ask confused.
Damon presses the palm of my hand right against the hard bulge in his jeans. My eyes go wide in reaction. He's never been this straightforward with me. He's never even mentioned it during our make out sessions. I can feel my heart beating at a rapid pace, knowing this day would come eventually.
I try and pull my hand back but he holds it firmly in place.
"Not here, Damon." I say and my voice cracks.
"You can't just go around teasing me."
"About head?" I scoff. "I only wanted your blood." Can't say I ever thought those words would leave my mouth.
"Hey, you're the one that brought it up and now we have a problem." He says pressing my hand harder against the bulge in his pants.
He's starting to make me feel feverish and my heart won't stop pounding from what could happen next.
"Damon. There's a window, right there." I say seriously feeling my anger rise. "There's no chance in hell that you're getting anything from me here."
He looks as if a freight train hit him. Lord knows what's going through his head.
"Fine, not now." He concedes. "But later?"
I sigh in exasperation, trying to pull away from him. "Leave, Damon. Please. I've already spent way too much time with you. People will speculate why."
Damon finally lets go of my hand, but grabs my hips with both of his hands. He leans down pressing his forehead against mine. "This isn't over." He says with utter seriousness.
"I never said it was." I manage to reply through this intensity. Pretty sure I stopped breathing when he grabbed my hips.
Go figure, Damon doesn't even kiss me goodbye. He leaves out the door in a rush- just like that.