Chapter summary: Clothes. So much fuss made about bits and scraps that covered the body. So unnecessary, really. Air. So little fuss made about that, eh? But: so, so necessary, isn't it. For some.
"There!" I said, pleased and refreshed, or getting there.
I had dragged Bella to the river, dived in myself, told her to strip and join me, but then I had grown impatient with her slowness.
My Bella was slow. I didn't like that.
So I got out of the river, helped her undress, and pulled her into the river with me.
Now, she might see what happened differently, particularly the 'help her undress' part, but hey, did I rip off her clothes? No, I did not. I knew the value of clothes out in the wilderness for a human: it kept them safe and warm. I knew the value of clothes for me out of the wilderness: it got me close to them.
See? We both needed clothes, so I didn't rip them off her body. Waste not, want not.
Well, I didn't tear her clothes off her body, and I didn't rip off any of her limbs, so, technically, there was no ripping of clothes. No matter how forceful I seemed to be when I stripped her down.
Bella squealed in shock when her feet hit the water, and scrunched up into herself, shivering, when I dragged her further in, so the water covered her modest hips, so her clothes didn't have to.
She covered up her breasts as best as she could, and she was shivering violently.
"Refreshing, isn't it," I said happily, "getting clean again, right? And being unencumbered by clothes is so liberating, isn't it?"
Bella's lips were turning blue. "No," she muttered sullenly, hoping I didn't hear her.
Knowing I did.
My cheery mood evaporated in an instant. "What was that?" I said coldly.
The river-water temperature dropped a few degrees.
She glared at me, hard. "I said, 'no'!"
Ooh, goodness, the fight had come back to my Bella in spades. Perhaps it was the effect of the cold of the water on her.
I felt my body tightening. I controlled my breathing. "That wasn't the answer I wanted to hear," I said coolly, and a sweet smile was on my face, but my look said: push it.
Push it, little Bella. I dare you.
Bella shivered. "Then why don't you just tell me what to say!"
I smiled at that, snickering. "Because, sweetie, one," I enumerated, "what's the fun of that? And, two, we both know what I want you to say, right?" I asked sweetly. Bella looked away, sullenly, so I pressed. "Right?"
She muttered a sullen, "Yes," but wouldn't look at me, shivering in her skin.
But she agreed with me, not because she wanted to, but because I wanted her to.
"There!" I said brightly, pleased. This one fought, then yielded, then fought, then yielded. Sometimes it was annoying, her fighting, knowing that she could do but yield, but sometimes it amused me, bending her will to mine, bit by bit.
"Now," I said, "let's get cleaned up, shall we?" and I glided through the water, my element, like it was air.
Bella saw me approach her. This caught her attention, and terror filled her eyes.
...
Bathing little Bella was fun, for I simply manipulated her body the way I wanted it to be. If I wanted her arm above her head so that I could wash her stinky little pit, then I simply grabbed her arm and pulled it above her head, and her resistance was naught to me. It was cute or pitiful. I couldn't determine which. Then I would scoop handfuls of water and splash it onto her body, sometimes slapping on a part I wanted particularly cleaned.
I liked my Bella particularly cleaned. Squeaky clean, and my! did she squeak!
Now that was cute: her squeaks.
By the time I was done with her, her skin was red with the friction, and blue with the cold, and tight, tight, tight all over where it tried to contract itself away from the cold.
"There!" I said, "all clean! How do you feel? Better?"
She looked at me, giving me a poor, waifish look. "I'm...I'm ... Victoria, I'm so coooolllldd-dd-d-dd!"
Her teeth were chattering.
I tittered. "Aw! You poor thing!" I exclaimed as I examined every little quivering piece of her flesh.
She looked good enough to eat!
"Ah!" I said, brightening. "I have just the thing for you!"
I think my exclamation, and what it forebode, scared my little Bella more than anything else.
"See," I continued, "you're half-in and half-out the water, and the water as it evaporates from your skin is chilling you, now, if you were fully submerged ..."
I grabbed her roughly and without warning flipped her back and pulled her down by her shoulder into the water.
"... then the water won't evaporate off you, see?" I said to her wide eyes, staring up at me in shock from under the water's surface.
"See?" I said to her.
She couldn't hear me, but she could certainly see the word formed by my mouth.
I pulled her out and stood her up.
"See?" I said. "Better?"
She sputtered water as she coughed explosively.
"Hm," I said. "I'm not sure you've got it."
So I slammed her into the water again, and kept her under.
I looked down at her.
"You're not thinking about the cold now, are you?" I asked. "Fascinating how non-essential concerns just evaporate when all you can think of is that next breath, isn't it?"
Her eyes were panicked, and she began to struggle, to flail about, trying to get above the surface, and she grabbed at my arms, trying to release herself from them.
Like that was happening.
"I have an idea, Bella," I said, and I pulled her up out of the water. She coughed and wheezed, trying to suck in some precious air. "Let's have a contest. The one who can hold her breath the longest wins. What do you say?"
"Wha?" she said, not even hearing what I said.
"Great!" I enthused.
And I leapt at her, a hawk spearing in to strike, fast enough so that she could do naught about it, slow enough so that she saw it happen.
She shrieked as I grabbed her, as I flew, lifting us both full out of the water, then we fell, plunging into the river at its deepest, the water a full foot above us as we sunk to the sandy bottom.
She fought, she struggled. She could see the surface above us, the light of it filtered down to us in the murky depths not far below, but she could not reach it, despite her flailing attempts.
The air escaped her lungs and bubbled up. I watched them as they floated away from her.
She just didn't get the game, did she? The goal was to last as long as you could, not to waste the precious air in fruitless struggle.
She strained with all her might, and then she screamed for all she was worth, drawing in water, coughing, screaming, drawing in more and more water into her lungs as she made one last, pointless attempt.
I waited this out. And I saw it in her eyes, the darkness rising up to claim her.
I turned her head away from the surface to face me.
"See?" I said, and giggled. The air bubbled away from my lips. "There is nothing you can do to save yourself now, is there?"
She looked at me, utterly helpless. 'Please!' she mouthed, pleading.
"'Please' what?" I bubbled.
There was plenty of air in my lungs for me to answer her.
Not that I needed air, though: the living needed air to breath, and I was already dead. I have been dead for centuries.
She didn't say what it was she wanted, however, for the light and reason had gone from her eyes, and the struggle had left her limbs. She floated still, finally, in my arms.
And her heart beat fainter, and fainter, and fainter.
And then ... nothing.
...
The fire burned merrily.
You rub two sticks together hard enough, long enough, fast enough, and they will burst into flame.
I didn't need the fire.
She did.
She lay, still, on top of her clothes on the ground, so at peace, so innocent, so sweet in her vulnerability.
It took me mere seconds for me to ignite the fags and to fan the fire into a cheery little burn.
Then I returned to my Bella's side, and started pushing on her chest rhythmically, one-two, one-two. Then I pinched her nose closed and breathed a lungful of air into her body, and then returned to massaging her heart again, reminding it how to beat: one-two, one-two, then another puff of air into her lungs, then back to massaging her chest, then ...
There it was, I thought delightedly.
Bella coughed, and her little chest, heretofore still, pushed back against my hands strongly, picking up the beat in the rhythm that I had memorized in my short time with her.
The longest time I had ever spent with a human. Near a human. You get me.
She opened her eyes and looked about her, dazed, trying to get her bearings.
"Well, well, well," I said, smiling down at her. "Look who decided to come back to us." I smirked. "You had me worried there for a moment."
"Wh-where was I?" she asked, confused. She could barely turn her head, and her movements were weak.
"Hell," I said casually. "I brought you back."
I smirked, and added sarcastically: "You're welcome."
"Th-thank you," she said automatically, but then looked at me, totally lost.
I giggled.
She was so cute!
"Bella," I said and turned her head to look at me. "I'll take that kiss now."
She blinked rapidly, trying to process what I said. Nothing made sense to her, she was still reeling from rapid shifting of her reality.
She got more a sense of it as I lay down beside her and turned her to me, her naked back facing the warmth of the fire.
"Hmm?" I said and raised my eyebrows.
"Oh," she said, and she bit her lip, blushing furiously, heat on her face from more than the fire.
I smirked and put her head into my hands, and gently pulled her to me, pressing her lips to mine, and I kissed her.
She shuddered at first, trembling violently for a second, but then she took in a deep breath, and relaxed in my hands.
And she let me kiss her.
And I thought, as I kissed her, holy... fucking... fuck.
I don't know if was because she were human, and her softness struck me like a blow, or if it were because she had fought me so hard up to now, and the pure surrender of her melting into me simply blasted through me like a tidal wave.
But whatever it was, this thing, this feeling ripped through me tearing me asunder, and I knew I have never, ever felt something so powerful seize me to my very being, and I knew if I were to continue on for another thousand-million millennia, I would never, ever feel this burn that consumed me as it consumed me now.
And she felt it, too.
Her lips were soft and shy, but her little heart was going pitter-patter, pitter-patter so rapidly I feared it would burst in her tiny chest. I brought my hand down from her entangled hair and rested in on her pert breast, feeling her heart hammer against my hand. I tried to soothe it, I tried to calm her little rapidly-beating heart, so that it would last just one more moment before it burst.
Just one more moment that it could beat in her chest, so this kiss could go on, just one moment more.
Eventually, she had to come up for air.
Or put another way, my kiss was so God-damn good it made her forget to breathe!
I let her pull back, and she gasped for air, as her eyes darted around, looking at anything but me, and her face was beet red. Her heart in my hand beating rapidly, showing her fear. She was terrified, of what? My kiss?
Or what it did to her?
"Bella," I said, "now you kiss me."
She looked at me, quickly, scared, but then looked away, in fact, she turned away, looking up at the sky.
"No," she said.
I puzzled over this answer.
"What?" I said.
"Don't ... call me that," she said. She started hesitantly, but then her voice firmed up, and she finished her statement with conviction.
She turned back to look at me, and look at me she did.
She wasn't blushing now, either.
"What?" I repeated coolly.
I knew not from whence this new-found strength in her came, but I was not afraid of it.
I feared nothing. It was she that had everything to fear, everything to lose, for I could take it away from her in one of her little, tiny heartbeats.
But she was not afraid now either.
She said, "I'm not this person, Victoria. I'm not. And if you want to kiss her, you go kiss her, but if you want to kiss me, kiss me, and I'm not gonna let you ..."
I put my fingers to her lips, hushing her, and I looked at her intently through narrowed eyes, measuring her resolve.
I rolled onto my back, looking up at the sky above through the canopy of trees, knowing that the first to break away was the first to lose.
And I had just lost.
I blew out a long sigh.
"No one," I said, "has ever placed a demand on me and lived, you know." I informed her.
"I'm not nobody," she came right back.
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye.
She was looking right back at me.
"You know," I said, "I can take what I want, and you can do naught to stop me."
"Yes," she said simply.
I glanced at her again. "So how do you think ..." I began.
"Cut this shit, Victoria," she snapped at me.
I turned on her in a flash, "What?" I snarled.
Her face went white, which pleased me greatly. She knew I could hurt her, in any way I wanted, and her body's involuntary start gave away the vulnerability beneath her bravado.
But then her chin firmed up, and she dipped deep down into that infinite well of strength she had been hiding from me, and from herself up to now.
"You're not fooling anybody, Miss-oh-my-God-scary Victoria," she retorted. "Yes, you can do anything you want. Yes!" she shouted now, "you can do anything you want to me, but ... but ..."
She looked away. "But ..." she swallowed hard, and her eyes teared up. "But you're doing it to me, not to her. Not to her, okay? And I don' ... kn-know wha she did ta-ta ya, th-that ya havfta k-kill all thoz peepul, but-but ..."
I turned to her and put my hand over her trembling mouth.
Two tears escaped her eyes and hit the ground. She sniffled hard and swallowed.
I removed my hand.
Now it was my turn to bite my lip as I regarded this creature.
And I thought, selfishly, I could kill this one, right now, so fast, in fact, that she wouldn't even know she was dead. She would be lying there, her dead eyes staring at me as I held her heart in my hand, ripped from her chest and now stilled.
I could do this thing. Easily. Then start over. Or just go find Bella Swan and end her, lightning fast. End her, and end me.
I could do this thing.
I turned away from her bright, bright eyes and looked back up at the sky.
"If I were ..." I said.
I stopped myself.
I could do this thing. Right now. End her. End me. Her dead eyes, staring at me.
"If I were to ask you to kiss me," I said, and I glanced at her, then I looked right back up at the sky, "would you kiss me?"
It was quiet.
It was quiet for a time so long that I began to regret my question, and wonder why I had even asked it.
Asked it, why? Instead of doing this thing. This thing that I could do.
"You'll just have to ask me, and see, won't you?" she said.
I looked up at the sky for help.
What do I do? I asked it.
It did not answer.
I blew out a long, long sigh, and covered my eyes with my hands. I tried to crush my eyes into my skull, but unlike this frail, little, human girl beside me, I had no weaknesses, not one, and my eyes stoutly refused to be crushed.
I turned to ... her.
And bit my lip.
"Will you ..." I said.
She looked back at me steadily.
"Will you kiss me ...?" I said.
Her eyes hardened, and her whole jaw was tight, her body burning with anger.
"Will you kiss me, Summer Fergusson?" I said finally.
Her lips trembled at that, and she took in a deep, shaky breath.
And now it was there. She had to say 'yes' or she had to say 'no.'
And I didn't know what she would say. Looking at her, it looked like she didn't know what she would say. I don't know if she thought it would come to this, that she could demand this of me, and that I would do this thing. This thing that I had never done before: acquiesce.
Today had been a day of never-befores for me.
I don't know if I particularly liked or if I very particularly hated this day.
The tongue. It came out of her shy little mouth and touched its tip to her lip and disappeared into her mouth as fast as it had showed itself.
Fuck me and her tongue.
Fuck me with her tongue, for fuck's sake; I wanted to mount this bitch and fuck her so hard right now. What, with her leaving me wanting her kiss so God-damn badly! The suspense was killing me!
And I was dead already.
I have no idea how other people handled this burning, this ache in the pit of their stomach.
She looked away, breaking the intensity of the moment, and I almost screamed with relief.
The one who looks away first, loses.
"Yes," she whispered. She looked back at me shyly. "Yes, I will kiss you, Victoria Sutherland."
I could not stand it anymore.
"Well, then, fucking kiss me, bitch!" I snarled.
Her eyes registered shock. "What the ..." was all she could get out before my lips crashed on to hers, and I did mount her, turning her onto her back, throwing her, more like, and I wrapped her in my arms, and pressed down onto her all that she could bear of me. The kiss I took from her was desperate and needy, and I mauled her lips, no. No. My whole fucking body mauled hers in my need for every part of me, every inch of my body to kiss her, every part of her, and everywhere.
I could not get enough of her, enough of this kiss. I rammed my tongue into her mouth, and I softly, gently sucked her taste into me as my tongue battled with hers and won.
God! I won her to me, her body to mine, taking every little bit of her resistance and turning it into weakness and wanting, making her want to kiss me back as much as I wanted to kiss her.
And I was scared that if I could push her into her clothes, into the dirt, I would push her so hard, so fiercely, that I would not just hurt her, but I would actually squeeze her fluids, her vitals right out through her eyes and mouth and nose and cunt and ass and even through the very pores of her skin.
And I was scared because I knew that I could do this to her, and I knew my want for her was so desperate that I was right on the very cusp of doing this thing that I so wanted to do, because I wanted her so badly, to kiss me back, as I kissed her.
And she did. She did kiss me back, after her initial shock of my attack and the surprise of me taking her so forcefully.
But there was nought else I could do. The need impelled me so strongly that I was all that, and nothing else.
"Mmmth-" she panted. "Mmm! Mmmm!"
I had to physically force myself from kissing her, from pressing my body against hers.
And it fucking hurt, it fucking hurt me to my guts to stop myself. God, it hurt!
I pulled away from her lips, but my body was still firmly pressed to hers, and we were panting.
We were panting like two bitches in heat.
"What is it?" I asked, and I heard my voice come out strained, almost whining with want.
"N-nothing," she said, but her face registered obvious pain, so I eased my body off hers, but slightly, just slightly, not breaking contact.
I couldn't bear to do that.
"It's just that ..." she said and squirmed about a bit, "this ... fuck! ..." She scooted over a bit. "Ouch!" she complained. "There's this God-damn rock and ..."
Her face registered pain and irritation. "And ..."
I was laughing! I was howling with laughter now, and I rolled off her, and my laughter dissolved into a peal of giggles of relief. I thought that I hurt her somehow in my passion, and to find that it was a mere irritating pebble?
Oh, my Summer is a princess unable to sleep because of one little pea?
"Har-di-har-har!" Summer looked at me angrily. "But you have a rock underneath you and get mauled by a sex-starved ..."
I put my hand to her sweet, sweet, fucking sweet and soft lips, silencing her, and merriment must of been dancing in my eyes, for her own eyes narrowed at mine.
"Shhh, Summer-love," I cooed, "allow me to take care of your little problems."
I was in motion, wrapping her in her clothes, moving her aside from the offending piece of earth, and then tilling the soil, a foot deep, so that the ground I rested her on was as soft as down.
You ever fuck on a freshly-plowed field? And you wonder why farmers have so many children?
Fertile soil. It helps. You know. Being fecund, and all.
I lay her down on the earth and lay myself beside her as quick as you can say 'Jack Sprat.'
"There!" I said.
"Whoa," she said, her eyes wide.
Okay. Maybe I was showing my eagerness. Maybe I was a bit open about my desire to get things moving along.
Maybe.
I stilled myself, feeling my body vibrate in protest.
It did not want to be stilled. But I stilled myself.
I put my hand on either side of her head and looked deeply into her eyes.
"Summer Fergusson," I said, my insides burning hot and hard, "will you kiss me again?"
I saw her considering look, so I added quickly, "... please?"
It wasn't begging. I don't beg.
I was merely being polite, you see.
Her lip twitch into a lopsided grin, and she knew.
She knew she had me. And I knew she knew. I was whipped, a slave now, and not by anything she did at all, but by what she had, what I wanted, so, so desperately.
And I so wanted not to show her this, my desperate need for her lips and the sweetness they contained. I didn't want her to see this in me.
But I so miserably failed at hiding it from her. So, so miserably, desperately ...
So ... me. Helpless. Hopeless, that's what I was.
And now I was still, not because I stilled myself in my desperate want, but because now I was empty inside, seeing me in her eyes for what I was.
Nothing.
But.
Then.
She brought her hands to my cheeks, and then, sliding them to the nape of my neck and the back of my head, she pulled herself to me, me, immovable in my infinite strength, she pulled against this that was me, and put her lips to mine, ...
And she kissed me.
And my abject despair melted away like Winter's snow beneath a hot Summer's Sun.
Heh. 'Summer's Sun.
Should I rename myself to 'Winter,' then, and let her melt me, again and again?
I seriously considered this for a second as she kissed me, then, I let this thought go, and put my hand over her gently beating heart, so strong and steady, and I rolled myself on top of her, and I kissed her back.
Fuck, did I kiss her back: softly, sweetly, a strong, steady, lasting kiss, me to her, her to me.
Her heart. Her God-damn amazing heart was beating so sweetly under my fingers, and its song was the most beautiful music I had ever heard.
I broke our kiss, and I saw the disappointment flash across her face as I did, and that made my own sing for joy.
Summer didn't want our kiss to end, either.
And that joy gave me boldness.
I looked down at her, my eyes burning intensely. "I want you," I said softly to her beautiful brown eyes.
James' eyes were blue. I would never love blue eyes again.
Summer's eyes widened. "Um ..." and she blushed. "O-okay ...?"
I felt my eyebrows come together. I wanted her. Did she not understand this?
"Summer," I said intensely, "I want you. Do you understand this?" I said, and I tried to keep my voice even.
"I-..." she said, looking away, then she looked back at me. "It's just that ... I've never done ... this. You know." Then she amended quickly. "With-with a girl. That is."
Then she looked away. "You know." She added helpfully.
My gaze did not waver. "Nor have I," I admitted.
She looked back at me quickly. "You haven't?" she asked, surprised.
I shook my head gravely.
"But I thought ..." she said. "But ... Bella?" she dared to venture.
No, my look said.
"But ..." she said, thoroughly confused now. "But ..."
"Summer," I said gently. "Do you want me?"
She bit her lip and looked away shyly.
And she nodded.
I kissed her shy temple, softly. "I want you," I said softly, but with every ounce of conviction in me that I could put into these words.
"What do we ..." she paused. "How do we ... do it?"
And she looked to me for guidance.
I swear by all the heavenly powers, I could have killed her, right here, right now, for the feelings her trusting eyes filled me with.
But her trust was not misplaced.
"I think," I lied, for I did not think: I knew, "that if you kiss me, and that if I kiss you, we will know what to do."
"Oh," she said.
'Oh, she said' I thought to myself, and her 'oh's fucking smote me. They were like a drug, for those of you who are not blood-drinkers, they were like blood, and one taste was not enough, for I needed more and more of them.
"Will you kiss me, Summer?" I asked.
She nodded once, and reached for me.
"Summer," I said, removing my hand from her breast and taking her hands in mine. "You have to tell me to stop, do you understand? You have to tell me when to stop, because I will not stop. Not ever. So you have to tell me to stop, yes?"
She looked up at me with her trusting brown eyes. "Yes," she said simply.
I released her hands, and smiled down at her sweetly, and swallowed, hard.
The venom threatened to pour out of my mouth in flood, I was so desperate to have her, and my body could not distinguish between me taking her as my love and me taking her to suck her dry.
My mind was rather fuzzy on this point, too, and so I girded myself with bands of resolve tighter than steel, and I lowered myself down to her, and I kissed her, and my hand found its way back to her sweet little heartbeat as she kissed me back, now with her own passion.
And I shifted, and she shift, and I shifted, and she shifted, and we fit ourselves into each other, my shifting leg opening her thighs, my cunny finding her bald, little slit, and then resting on it.
And as her lips kissed mine, my tongue wormed its way into her welcoming mouth and she sucked my tongue in as my hips began to move on hers.
She was so ready. Her bald little puss puffed up, kissing my hairy cunt, and she slicked up and rubbed herself against me as I pressed my body against hers, longing, sucking up the contact of her flesh against me as a dried sponge sucks up water.
I was so ready. Venom lubricated my cunt and dripped down upon her puss, and our fluids commingled, the saliva of her mouth with the venom pouring out of mine, and her wet and ready pussy rubbing against my cunny.
And I fucked her. I kissed her passionately as I pressed against her and rubbed against her, needing to feel her pressed against me.
Then I felt it. Her body began to tighten up, and as she pressed harder against me, her whole body began to tense up, making her head pull back and press itself harder into the ground beneath her.
But I wanted this, I wanted this now. I followed her movement, doubling it with mine, not faster: firmer, and I pressed my lips more firmly against hers as her head tried to pull away, deepening our kiss as I fucked her, good and hard.
Then she started squealing into my mouth, softly at first, then with the full force her little lunges could offer. "Eeee!" she squealed into my mouth. "Eeeep! Eeeeep! Eeeep!"
My Summer was a little squealer, I noted wryly, but then I set that thought aside as I fucked her through her orgasm as she came for me, good and hard. Then I continued to fuck her, gently, as she came down from it, bringing her back down to Earth from the heavenly heights she had ascended.
Her face reddened and her breathing became ragged as she tried to catch her breath.
So, with regret, but with a heart overflowing with happiness and contentment, I broke our kiss, and eased myself off her.
I watched her recover. Her muscles in her arms and legs and chest and face relaxed then turned to jelly as she panted big gulps of air, refilling her lungs and replenishing her cells with much-needed oxygen.
"Fucking ..." she panted, "wow!"
Her eyes were shining, and tears fell, not because she was crying, but because she didn't have the strength to hold them back.
She blinked them away, looking up at the sky for a second. Then she looked over at me.
"You stopped!" she said, and I don't know if her tone was accusing or surprised, or both.
"Yes," I said mildly, smiling warmly at her. "Didn't you want me to?"
"Ummmmm..." she considered, then blushed, returning her gaze heavenward.
"I ..." she said hesitantly. "That was ... well, amazing."
"Yes," I said, smiling.
She looked back at me quickly, surprised. "Really?"
"Yes," I said with conviction.
But I couldn't keep the smiles from wreathing my face.
She looked at me cautiously.
Then that God-damn tongue came out and touched her lip. "But ..." she said, concerned.
"Summer," I said, "kiss me."
Then she blushed and bit her lip, so I gently grabbed that sweet, little head of hers and pulled her into me, and I kissed her.
I so fucking kissed my shy, hesitant, concerned, little bitch. And my kiss let her know exactly how amazing this was, and let her know exactly how amazing it would continue to be.
That is, if I had anything to say about it, and you can God-damn rest assured that I would be saying quite a bit about it.
I pulled back, looking deeply into her eyes, and she looked back, trustingly, into mine.
Then I chuckled.
"Wot?" she said defensively, which only tickled my funny-bone further, my laughter spilling over into giggles.
She smiled at me cautiously.
"It's only," I said, smirking, "that you were afraid that I would try to get into your pants."
Her eyebrows came together. "Well, yeah," she looked between us and added ruefully: "Obviously."
"Not so," I said, and I smirked again as I explained: "you're not wearing your pants."
"Whaaa?" she said, surprised, and I sniggered at her dumbfounded look.
So she she smacked me, hard, on my arm.
"Owww!" she whined.
I laughed at that, and took her hand, reddened from the sting, and I kissed it better.
She watched me with careful, guarded eyes.
I think she liked it. I think she didn't want me to know she liked it.
Keeper. I thought. Definitely a keeper.
No human had ever stood up to me.
Well, I mean, stood up to me, and lived, that is.
And although I had had more than my share of dick cumming in me, both James', of course, and more than mort of victims, I had never ... they had never ...
I looked at Summer and I saw what my look was, from the dawning realization in her eyes.
I lay back onto the ground and looked up at the September sky.
"Fuck," I muttered.
Summer was quiet.
Then she said softly. "Yeah..."
I felt her eyes on me.
Tentatively, she lay her stung hand on my chest.
I took her hand into mine, brought it to my lips and kissed it, and tasted her salty sweetness in the sweat of her palm as her hot-hot blood heated my lips kissing it.
I put her hand back over my dead chest, wherein no heart would ever beat again.
"So now you're sorry," she said.
"Nooo," I said quickly.
"No?" she asked, disbelieving.
"It's just that, ..." I paused, reflecting, looking up to the sky for strength that it refused to supply me. I said quietly. "This changes everything."
She made to pull her hand off my chest. Perhaps to give me space, perhaps? So that I could be alone?
I held her hand on my chest. I didn't let it go.
I knew what it was to be alone.
I let her hand go and turned, facing her.
I put my hand on her little, tiny breast, her heart beating a mile a minute.
And my loins longed for her, and her little, tiny chest, housing her o-so-delicately beating heart.
"Do you regret this?" I asked her, looking directly into her eyes, ready for her answer, whatever it would be.
"Nooo..." she sucked thoughtfully.
And then she looked away.
The first who looks away loses, but this time, it wasn't she that lost. It was I.
"No?" I dared to ask.
She looked back at me. "It's just that ..." Then she bit her lip.
I waited. "Couldn't you've just ..." she said. "Why did you have to kill all those people? Why didn't you just ask me? I mean ..."
"Ask you... what, Summer?" I said. Then I framed it for her. "'Excuse me, miss, you look just like the person I'm going to kill, so would you mind submitting yourself to my torture so ...'" Then I stopped. "So that this would happen? That I didn't even know that would have? And you would have said what? Yes? To this? 'Yes, I'll leave my boyfriend and ...'"
I looked at her. "And what?" I said helplessly. "Summer, I'm ..."
I looked away.
Summer's hand came to me and rested on my chest.
I looked at her, hurting, and looked away.
She snuggled into me. "Okay," she said, but somehow that word didn't annoy me. I marked it and let it pass. "So, maybe that wouldn't have worked out so well."
I chuckled humourlessly.
Bitterly.
"So," she said softly. "What're you going to do now?"
I looked back at her and smiled sadly. "I don't know."
"You gonna kill this girl?" she demanded.
I closed my eyes. "I don't know. She took away everything from me. I don't know what aught else to do."
I reopened my eyes and looked into hers.
She considered this. Then she pointed out: "You took away everything from me."
I looked at her. Her gaze was steady. "I did," I admitted.
Her lips firmed up, and that infinite well of strength inside her opened up again. "I won't let you kill her," she said.
I just looked at her. What could she do to stop me? Nothing.
But somehow, her saying it made it so.
I looked back at her, saying nothing. There was nothing for me to say.
There was just emptiness inside me. Loss.
I was lost.
"I won't let you kill anyone anymore, you hear me?" she demanded.
Meaning what? I thought, that she would be there to stop me?
I dared not think this thought.
But how could she anyway?
I shook my head regretfully to her, her infinite strength, and her foolish, foolish little assertion.
"No," I said sadly. "I must kill. It is what I am."
Her eyes narrowed at me. "What are you?" she demanded harshly, her face obstinate.
I pressed her hand into my still chest. "I am Death," I said simply.
But I couldn't leave it to that, could I?
Could I!
"And where there is life, and hope, AND GOODNESS, I COME AND I ..." I was shouting right into her face.
And she was looking right back at me, scared out her mind, but bravely facing my rage with her courage.
Her weak, little courage.
I turned away from her scared, brave little face and looked up at the heavens.
"... and I take it away," I finished sadly.
Summer was quiet for a while.
Then she said firmly, "I don't believe that."
I smiled sadly at the sky. "You do not have to. It is what I am. I must kill others to continue."
She didn't accept this. "Bullshit! What, are you some kinda cannibal? No! That's just bul-..."
"I do not need their bodies to continue," I said. "It is their blood I consume."
Silence.
"Oh." she said.
"Oh." she said.
I breathed in the air, tasting her scent in it, tasting the taste of her mouth on the tip of my tongue, a bitter taste now, as I remembered with regret the sweetness of her kisses. And remembered how desperate I was to hear her 'oh's, and now, hearing them, how sad I was to hear them.
"Oh." she said again.
"'Oh,'" I mimicked sadly, and my echo was drained of all hope.
For I killed all hope, even my very own.
I killed everything. That's what I was.
Verily.
"But ..." she began.
I put my hand over her mouth, suddenly alert, every sense screaming inside me.
"Trouble," I said.
And then the sound came, softly at first, then loud enough for her to hear it.
Thup-thup-thup-thup-thup.
The very air shook as one of the metal flying machines roared directly above us, passing by us and then, a moment later, coming to rest, hovering in the air, a couple of miles away.
Summer sat up, then stood, looking between me and the metal insect in the air.
"Is that where the campgrounds are?" she asked, and concern wreathed her face.
"Get dressed," I said curtly.
Summer blinked at me. "Now," I snarled.
She reached for her clothes as the flying metal machine turned and headed back, directly toward us.
...
We looked at the campsite from my vantage point.
Humans looked left, and humans looked right. They never looked up. Until it was too late, that was.
"Fuck," I cursed.
There were three official vehicles, painted forest green parked at the entry to the campsite and there were four park rangers, three men and one woman, working their way through the site, devices in their hands they were talking into, these with antennae, and voices were coming out of these things in their hands.
Apparently they had cell service, or whatever it was.
I could take them out now, easily.
"What are you going to do?" Summer asked, held into my side.
I looked at the park rangers.
What a fucking mess! The irreparable damage was done. Four humans, no problem, but the flying machine, their conversations ... more humans were coming, many more, and that meant media, and that meant exposure.
"Fuuuuuuck!" I snarled softly, and every one of my senses was on fire, in all directions. They were coming already. I could feel it. Fuck. Fuck, and fucking fuck!
"Confirmed," one of them said. "Abandoned campfire two miles Sou-southwest of this location. Two persons sighted there two minutes ago. Can you get a fix on them now? Over."
"ssskkr We're looking now. Over. ssckrt." the device responded.
"Roger, keep us apprised, CQ142 out," he replied.
The woman said. "I count thirteen bodies here, there was nobody in the female head."
The man nodded. "Will, check the men's."
A young man gulped and nodded.
"Victoria," Summer whispered. "What are you going to do?"
I looked carefully over the situation, assessing it.
I turned to Summer. "Hang on. Not a peep, okay?"
She nodded.
Not good enough. "Close your eyes." I said.
She looked at me.
"Summer," I said, "trust me. Please."
She nodded slowly, then closed her eyes.
We fell. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Fifty feet to the ground.
"Eeep!" she squeaked softly as I held her into me as I landed, a feathertouch on the ground.
I set her onto the ground.
"Summer," I said.
She opened her eyes.
"What are you going to do?" I said.
"I don't ... understand," she said carefully.
"Summer," I said sadly. "It is not what I am going to do. It is what you are going to do now. You can stay here, and join your Alan, or ..."
I looked away.
Summer looked toward the campground, and the activity there.
She looked back at me. "Or?" she asked.
She knew what I meant by staying.
"Or," I said, and bit my lip.
I couldn't continue.
Summer's little hand came out to my cheek, holding it, then turning me, through the force of her will, to face her.
"Or?" she demanded.
I put my hand to her hand, holding it to my cheek for a second, then kissing it softly, and bringing it down.
Holding her hand still, not letting go.
"Come away with me, and be my love," I said.
"Oh." she said.
Oh, she said, I thought sadly seeing the surprise on her face.
She considered, and I died ever second she did, thinking about what I would have to do if she chose to stay.
"Are you gonna make me like you?" she asked cautiously.
"I ..." I brought up my hands, making two frustrated fists, "... can't."
She looked at me, the agony and helplessness on my face.
I've never tried to turn anyone. I've never been able to stop myself. I've never cared enough to want to. And I knew I couldn't now, after centuries, I wouldn't be able to stop myself.
"Oh," she said.
She looked back toward the campsite.
"Summer," I said desperately, my senses screaming at me to flee. "You have to choose now!"
To ignore this warning was death for me. I felt it to my very being.
She was unmoved, looking at the campsite.
"You said be your love," she said.
"Yes," I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.
"You meant that?" she demanded, looking at me square.
"Summer," I pleaded, "please!"
"Okay," she said, seeing, but not understanding the terror in my voice, "but ... whoop!"
I scooped her up, and we were flying through the forest, and I was screaming like a banshee as we flew, screaming with terror, and it made me run all the faster, and I ran faster than I have ever run before.
And I could run fucking fast, fucking faster than any other vampire in the world, even that fucking Edward Cullen.
How else to you think I have survived for so long?
Summer wasn't done with me, however. "But I am not gonna let you kill anybody ever again, swear to God!"
"Summer!" I tsked, "we'll talk about this later, okay?"
"You said 'okay,'" she accused.
"Fuck, yes!" I screamed. "I said 'okay,' okay? God!"
She looked at me as I ran. "You're really scared," she said.
"Yes!" was torn out of my throat.
"Why?" she asked simply.
"There are worse things than me," I shouted. "Much, much worse!"
But, even as I said this, my senses were settling from a panicked fire of electricity to a dull burning heat of warning.
No human could catch me, even if their flying machines could go faster in the air than what I could cover on the ground.
But.
If a human saw me, then there would be one more cue for the Volturi to sniff out and follow up on.
And exposure of this magnitude...
I ran. I ran fast and hard. We had to get out of this fucking country if possible, and before nightfall if we could.
I ran, and the colours of the forest blended together and the wind whistled as it whipped past us.
Us.
And I did not feel the wind, as I held my Summer to me, because now, even though I was on the run, running in terror, ...
I was not running alone.
And I did not know what this meant. I did not know what my future held anymore. Not revenge, I guess, but something else entirely.
Because now, I was not alone.
Summer looked up at me, putting her hand gently on my cheek, then she shivered, and she wrapped herself more tightly into me.
I brought her cheek to my lips and kissed it, gently, and my lips on her cheek were on fire with the heat of her aliveness.
"Thank you," I whispered down to her with my whole heart.
"You're welcome," she replied, blinking up at me, surprised at the depth of my gratitude.
Then she smirked, and her tongue came out and touched her upper lip, showing her embarrassment of the intimacy of this moment.
I looked down at her, as her little tongue disappeared, and I ran on.
And I thought: That tongue.
We were going to have to stop soon, in the, oh, next few hours.
I needed to put that tongue to work.
Good work.
fin.