A/N: This is sort of... well, this is what we'll call a bonus chapter. It wasn't something that I'd originally planned, and it's not told from Sookie's POV. It's just that as I was writing the last couple chapters, this one wrote itself in my head and I just had to get it out.

Actually, I wrote most of it before I finished chapter 34.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Special thanks: EtheHunter had to reassure me a lot with this one. As it's more Eric's POV than anything else, I'd really needed that. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris and HBO own their respective parts of these characters and plot. The rest is my imagination getting away from me, as it so often does.

Previously...

"I will take you," Eric said before lifting me into his arms and soaring into the sky. It was difficult not to lean against him, but I managed. His next words made it a little easier. "You will tell me of what happened."

"Not tonight I won't."

I could feel he wanted to say more, but he didn't. Then he landed in my yard and carried me to the front door before lowering me to my feet. "Let me heal you at least," he whispered too close to my ear. His breath rustled my hair.

"All right," I agreed, too tired to argue. I think the emotional drain far outweighed the physical, even with the injuries.

"Not a single protest?" Eric teased, a hint of a smile curling his lips. My lips twitched in response. Just one kiss wouldn't be too bad, would it?

I shrugged off the kiss thought as well as Eric's comment. His eyes were questioning, but I didn't think I could say another word without breaking down into tears. I watched him bite into his wrist, detached in a way I hadn't felt for a while as I gripped it and brought the open wound to my mouth.

I drank only enough to feel the tell-tale tingling of my skin healing itself. Then I let go and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "Thanks." My voice was thick. "Goodnight, Eric."

~ERIC~

I love you.

Even through the screaming guitar, the rhythmic thump of the bass, he could hear it.

A phantom whisper in his ear, taunting, teasing, making him crane his neck nearer. If he could turn his head, lift his eyes maybe, at precisely the right time, he felt as if he'd catch sight of her.

Her voice. Her face. Always her.

I love you.

A ghost of Sookie's breath on his neck made him shiver.

He knew she wasn't there. Knew it. And yet... He moved towards the voice every time. Touched his cheek as if he could catch the lingering warmth of her lips there.

Eric exhaled deeply, his eyes roaming through the gyrating bodies that littered Fangtasia's dance floor. Relief made his shoulders sag. No one had noticed him. No one had seen him searching for her face, his lips opening as if to answer.

Besides, what would he say?

He knew things, felt things, but he didn't remember them. Or the why of them. Love? Admiration? Hope? Adoration? Desire? Fear? Emotions swelled and crashed within the same breath, making him dizzy. He could hardly tell who, or what, he was anymore.

He hated not remembering his time under the witches' spell. Hated it. If the witch wasn't dead already, he'd kill her for causing him the grief. Perhaps repeatedly.

I love you.

He stood suddenly, sending his chair tumbling backward. He had to rid himself of the incessant voice. Somehow. He righted the chair and sat again, his jaw clenched tight.

Pam caught his eye from across the bar, her eyebrow arched in question. Eric looked away. Fuck this. He had to get out of there. If only he thought it would help get his mind off... things. Off Sookie.

He knew things about her. He knew the way her head tilted as she brushed her hair. Knew the way those silky strands felt between his fingers. Eric knew a smile, a secret smile meant for a lover, though he did not remember ever seeing it, especially not directed at him.

How could he know that the line of her profile while she laughed mimicked almost exactly the one when she was on the verge of orgasm? How could he know the way her soft breasts felt in his palm? He could almost taste her on his tongue. Sweet. Warm. Decadent. And it had nothing to do with her blood.

Eric knew intimate things without having experienced them. Like he knew what a cloudless, sunny day looked like, though he could hardly remember seeing one. It was as if these images, these feelings, were superimposed in his mind. Or as if someone had merely told him what Sookie's eyes felt like when they locked on him in the throes of ecstasy. It was confusing as hell.

His hands clenched into fists and he closed his eyes, exhaling deeply through his nose. He probably sounded like a bull. Not that he cared. The soft touch of her fingers, her lips and tongue, lingered on his skin. Her scent, soft and sweet, something like the earth and sun with a hint of warm honey, was imbedded in his nose.

He'd smelled nothing like it in his long life. An odor so decadent one whiff caused immediate addiction. And he had no doubt that he was addicted.

The memory of touch and scent, it seemed, imprinted more so than ones own mind. He couldn't shake her. What was it about her that drove him to such insanity?

Eric snarled, kicking at the human male pawing at his leg. How had he not noticed him? He stopped short of crushing the mans arm beneath his boot, his fangs distended as he growled.

Pam appeared before he could snatch him up and break his neck. "Shoo now. Get out of here," she said, though her eyes never left Eric's.

The humans heart beat frantically. Desperation oozed from his pores. "You can bite me, you know," he said, ignoring Pam. "Please. Please bite me."

"I wouldn't bite you with someone else's fangs," Pam sneered, turning to face the man at Eric's feet. "Get out of here."

He finally caught the look in Eric's eyes and scuttled backward like a crab. Eric flinched.

He wanted to kill him, drain the humans blood out onto the dance floor and roll around in it until he could erase the feel of Sookie's lips from his skin. Drown himself in the nauseating scent of musk and alcohol. He wanted to be sticky with that fools blood, then let it dry and flake away piece by piece.

He was desperate for the escape. Temporary though it would have been. He leaned toward his prey. His fangs throbbed.

Only Pam's hand on his shoulder stopped him. She leaned to whisper in his ear. "You need to go. Kill him if you must. Fuck all if I care. Not. In. Public."

"Pam," Eric warned, the chair arms creaking beneath the force of his fists.

Pam leaned back enough to catch his eye. "We wouldn't want the human police sniffing around here, would we?"

Eric thought about what was down in the basement and forced his muscles to relax a fraction. "You're right."

"Will wonders never cease," Pam said with a smirk. "I knew you'd realize it one day."

"Realize what?" Eric asked, his mind already distracted by thoughts of Sookie once more.

"That I'm right," Pam answered proudly. "I'm always right."

Eric smiled lightly and shook his head as he stood. "For tonight," he said before dropping a kiss to her forehead. "I am... distracted," he admitted.

"I know," she said on a whisper. "Go home."

Pam understood better than most, but that was more because Eric exposed his feelings more freely around her than others and the bond they shared, not due to any experience she'd ever had. So she would never truly get it. He'd lost a piece of his life, snatched from his mind as if he were ripe for the picking. It made him feel weak, in more ways than one.

"I will see you tomorrow."

He walked out into the night and took to the sky. He knew where he'd end up, though he never planned to go there. Something always called him there, like a tether tied to his torso, pulling him despite his desire to stay away; he landed in Sookie's yard just beyond her bedroom window.

It was the third time this week alone. Two weeks since he'd awakened from that damn curse. Since he'd talked to Sookie at all. Two weeks and he'd been to her house or her work, watching her from a distance, at least a dozen times. He wouldn't count them. He was afraid to know the truth of the numbers and what that said about him.

Obsessed? Probably. He was mad. Definitely mad. And Sookie was the cause of his madness. The object of it. She alone was the extent of his focus.

After assuring himself that Sookie was asleep, Eric hovered up to her window and slid it open. He'd oiled it a long while back, even before he lost his mind. Memories, he corrected. He hadn't lost his mind. Not yet. Though Pam would probably say otherwise. If he were being honest with himself, he would agree.

She didn't stir as he stepped inside and closed the window behind him. For a moment, he thought he smelled tears. Facing away from him as she was, Sookie just as well could have been awake. But from the steady thrum of her heart, and her deep, even breaths, he could tell she was sleeping.

Eric crept closer, mindful of the boards in her floor that creaked. He had those memorized too. When he walked around to the other side of the bed and sat in the chair against the wall, he could finally see her face.

Fingers twitching with a longing to touch her, he forced them beneath his thighs, holding them still. This was by far the creepiest thing he'd ever done, and Eric had done a lot of nefarious things. Stalking a human? What the hell was wrong with him?

Strands of hair covered some of her face, but he knew it by memory. Her lips were slightly parted, her face lax in sleep. She was a lovely thing. He held his breath, absorbing her scent with it. He didn't realize he had moved until he saw his own hand hovering above her mouth.

Before he could snatch it back and return to his seat though, she exhaled a warm rush of air. Her heat enveloped him. Her taste, the life and light of her, made his skin tingle. His hand remained where it was until he could feel the warmth of her breath down to his toes. The palm of his hand was sweating when he finally dropped it to his side.

Then he just stood there and watched her sleep.

He should kill her now.

She'd never even have to feel it. It would be easy. She would never know it was him. Snap her neck, nary a drop of blood spilled. He would make it quick and painless, then this damn obsession of his would end.

And yet...

Even as he thought it, he knew he wouldn't do it. Couldn't.

She was so young. So much life left to live, even if it was just the blink of an eye to his. So young, he thought. Just a babe by comparison. What was she? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven? Eric realized he didn't know.

Still, Sookie was definitely too young for him, no matter how old he was when he'd been turned. She was a fraction of his age, not only in years but experience as well. He had no rational reason to be here.

Which is why he should leave, he thought as he headed toward her window once more. It's why he would leave and let her go, let it all go. He had to. Sookie had no place in his world, nor he in hers. He wanted her, yes, but he'd lived centuries before her and he'd live centuries more after.

He had to say goodbye. Let her live her life, short as it may be. Have children. A husband. Things he could not give her. She'd be a weakness to him, and he would only make life more dangerous for her. Yes, he would say goodbye. His throat felt tight.

After one last lingering look at her, he reached for the window.

"Eric."

He froze. His heart didn't beat; it hadn't for over a thousand years, but it had just done... something. He could still feel the vibrations of it in his chest as he peered over his shoulder at her. Fear that he'd find her awake made the tiny motion difficult.

Exhaling in relief, he watched as she rolled over. Her arm extended to the empty side of the bed, reaching, searching. Was she looking for him? He could lay beside her for just –

Eric shook his head. Sookie's eyes were closed, that was all that mattered. She still slumbered. It was only a dream.

He stepped up to her bed and very carefully laid a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth. Just that tiny taste was enough to make his eyes burn. He squeezed them tight before he moved to the window, lifting it silently.

"Live happy," he whispered on the breeze as he flew, and he hoped she did.

A/N: I'm biting my nails, y'all. This was difficult, but I hope you enjoyed it.

Only two more chapters left! GAH! It's taken two years! WOW! Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear from you if you've got a second to drop a word or two.