Day Nine

Bill sat at the piano, playing softly. Sookie had arrived from work a few minutes before and was showering. He considered joining her, but she seemed tired, and he decided to give her the time to rejuvenate. He continued tinkering on the keys, choosing the notes carefully, building the melody that was running through his head.

"I didn't know you played." Sookie said from the doorway. She was wrapped in a robe he kept hanging on the door. She looked small and fragile, and very, very young.

"It is a way to pass the time. I have had a lot of time on my hands, over the years."

"I suppose so." She sat on the bench beside him, warm from the shower, smelling of freesia.

"No music?" She noted. "You play from memory."

"There is music in the bench, but this melody is my own."

"Yours? You wrote this? Bill, that's so cool."

He felt oddly self-conscious. "I made it up. It is nothing."

"Play it for me. The whole thing."

"It isn't really finished."

"Why, Bill..." Sookie looked at him, her eyes twinkling. "You're shy. About this anyway."

"I have not played in front of anyone for a very long time." He admitted. "And never something of...of my own composition."

"Well. I have certainly shared a lot of my firsts with you." Sookie reminded him.

After a moment he responded. "Yes, you have." Bill closed his eyes and put his fingers to the keys. The music flowed and seemed to compose itself. He tried not to think about all the times Lorena had bid him play for her and her 'friends', using his meager talents to lure people into their thrall. Instead he focused on the woman beside him, the one who had inspired this melody. He had sat at the piano the night they met, having come home after she released him from the Rattays. The song had begun then, and each night since, he had built on it, the melody only increasing its hold on him, much as Sookie had captured his heart.

"That was lovely. Truly lovely. You are very talented." Sookie said when he finished. "Did you always play? I mean, did you play when you were ..." She paused awkwardly.

"Human?" Bill said. "Yes, my mother believed that cultured people played an instrument so my sister and I were trained as best she could. I took to it. My father thought it a waste of time. Boys were to work and farm, music and the arts were of the feminine persuasion. He did not forbid me to play, but strongly discouraged it. Naturally, with the farmwork, I was too busy to practice much of the time. When I married though, Caroline, my wife, encouraged me to play. She had a lovely singing voice. We would play and sing. My sister could sing as well. My mother enjoyed those little concerts. Father was gone by then."

"How did your father die?"

"It was called a 'fit' in those days. I suppose it was a stroke or heart attack. He was 52 years old. My mother lived beyond me. Caroline cared for her after my...death. She lived into her 80's."

"Did you ever come back to Bon Temps? I mean, before now?" Sookie leaned against him and he took her hand, stroking the palm with his thumb.

"I came back from time to time to check on things. I never saw much, since it was always night and the family would be sleeping. Sometimes I looked in the windows, just to see that all was well."

"Like a guardian angel." Sookie said.

"I was no angel. I am no angel." He glared at her. "Do not romanticize what I am, Sookie."

"I know what you are." She met his gaze.

"Do you?" Bill said. "I am a vampire, Sookie, a creature from your nightmares. I could snap your neck like a twig. I could drain every drop of blood from your body before you could scream. I could turn you, make you into a monster like me."

Sookie did not look the least bit frightened. She wore the same open, trusting expression she had the night she saved him from the drainers, only now, love shone in her eyes as well. Her trust was intoxicating.

"You would never hurt me." Sookie said confidently. "I trust you." She traced the line of his jaw and kissed his lips. "I love you." She murmured into his mouth.

Bill shifted on the bench and pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him, their mouths locked, tongues tangled. The heat of her seeped into him. He slipped one hand inside the robe, stroking her breast, tweaking the nipple into hardness. Releasing her lips he lowered his mouth and suckled, delighting in her moans of pleasure.

The robe slipped from her shoulders, striking several dissonant notes as it fell to the floor. He moved to her other breast, tongue circling before he took this nipple too, into his mouth. Sookie ground her hips against his growing hardness and her hands fumbled at his waist, struggling to remove the barrier between them. Raising up, he grasped her to him with one arm, and with her help, freed himself, plunging into her as he lowered them both back onto the bench. Hands on her waist, Bill moved her up and down, sliding in and out slowly, so slowly. Sookie's hair hung down, covering her face. She kissed his neck, his chest, then brought her mouth to his.

Bill increased the speed of his thrusts as their mouths moved together. Sookie was close, so close to her release. He could feel her orgasm mounting through their shared blood. His fangs fully extended, the hunger was undeniable. He broke the kiss, lowering his mouth to her neck. At the last moment, he remembered her aversion to a visible mark and took to her nipple again, biting just as he felt her body contract around him. He came then, too, the flow of Sookie's rich sweet blood into his mouth pushing him over the edge.