I see your eyes flash from across the room. I can't help but be drawn to you like a moth to flame.

We've played this game before, yet each time is as exhilarating as the last.

I glide towards you, then, acting coy, I stop and let the nearest dancer twirl me onto the dance floor.

I can feel your possessiveness floating on the air, thickening with the scent of you.

Suddenly, I am in your arms, my previous partner forgotten, staring incredulously at us as you sweep me away.

In a darkened corner you press me up against the wall; your scent, your physical presence, surround me.

You tilt my head with a hand on my chin. Your eyes burn like molten gold. I succumb, melting into your broad, hard chest, when, like a flash, you are nowhere to be seen.

The hunter becomes the hunted.

This game we play, unnoticed by the mortals surrounding us, our movements leaving only a slight breeze and a taste of something they cannot place.

I follow your scent out into the street. I weed it's trace through the hot dog vendors, the sweaty couples staggering against each other as they leave the club, and pick up your trail.

You've gone a mile up the city street, I am there in the time it takes a heart to beat, but still I am too late.

The slightest sound has me looking up, you've leapt to the roof in a single bound, that's normally my modus operandi. You're speed, I'm height.

Up I go, with barely a thought. There, you wait, casually leaning against the railing of the roof access stairs. I wave, a twiddle of fingers. You bestow upon me your most radiant smile. My body still remembers the feeling of my heart fluttering, the reaction you always caused. The reaction you cause now is more a slow simmering.

I take a step forward.

Again, you're bounding away from me, into the forest behind the line of buildings. The chase is still on.

I let you land and speed off before I leap to the nearest tree myself. Vaulting from tree truck to tree trunk I follow your scent. I am almost upon you when you stop suddenly, there are humans around a campfire just ahead.

Knowing I am more able to resist the temptation I leave the tree I was perched in, landing next to you with a soft crunching of dead leaves. You turn to me, on the offensive, when I grab your hand and spring into the air. You allow me to pull you along only because in that split second you knew I would be able to help.

I lead us at a diagonal, away from the campers and away from the town, so that you can clear your head. I stop when we are miles away from any sign or scent of humans. You wrap your hand around the back of my neck and draw me to you. I come willingly, knowing the hunger you are feeling now is something else entirely.

Hours later we are walking calmly, hand in hand, up the trail that leads to our cottage. Upon entering I head to the fireplace mantle and the box of mementos we keep there. I have tonight's winners to add to the trove. You join me, sliding your arm around my waist, as I rip off my plastic entrance bracelet from the club and lay it inside the box; next to it I place the pine cone we had found tangled in my hair after our rendezvous. Closing the lid on the box I turn to you and say with a naughty little smirk, "Next time, Edward, it's your turn to catch me."

Fin.