A/N: Hey howdy hey! My oldest spawn has come down with the covid, and I am happily hibernating in isolation, hoping to use my time to write a little bit. :D

I will be updating CTD this week for sure. I have BAS 5 done (it's loooong) and ilovemysteries is giving it a gander now. I have also started the last real honest-to-goodness chapter of CTD (not including the epilogue) and BSC 16! Fingers crossed. 😀

Chapter 4

As soon as Eric set down the empty mug, Sookie was picking it up and standing in front of the sink, washing both his cup and hers. She dried them and put them away and wiped down the counter and stove. She eyed the table, but she didn't know whether or not she should. She went over and wiped it, too.

"You are very nervous. Why?"

She was standing just a couple of feet away from him, trying to wipe up the partial ring of coffee and the couple of toast crumbs as quickly as possible. She walked over to the sink to rinse out the rag and stayed with her back to him.

She raised one shoulder. "Well, you're a vampire. I think most humans would be nervous around a vampire at first."

"But you are not afraid. Not of being harmed."

Something amused her. It wasn't what he had been expecting. She smiled and looked back at him over her shoulder.

"I know people better than that. I'm sure there are way more people nervous about having sex with a vampire than being hurt by one these days."

He smiled back at her. "Ah. You are nervous about having sex with me."

She whipped her head back around, but he could see how pink the tip of her ear was. He smiled a little wider. He found her… adorable. And she was very brave and kind to have stopped to help him in the middle of the night. And she was soft and beautiful and smelled so sweet. She had provided for him, and was keeping him safe and taking care of him. He intended to do the same for her, starting tonight.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The thing was, her situation was unique. And, even if it wasn't, it didn't matter. She liked him. He was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. His mind was completely silent. She wanted him. He wanted her. And she was a twenty-six-and-a-half year old virgin, right down to the very day. There was basically no chance that she would ever have an opportunity like this again and, even if he went back to his old life tomorrow, there was absolutely no reason that she shouldn't spend tonight with him.

She took a deep breath and blew it out. She turned back around and looked at him. "Yes. I'm nervous about having sex with you."

"Why?"

She laughed. "Why? Where do I start?"

She felt a tingling in her brain. Her eyebrows drew together. He said, "Relax. Don't be afraid."

She frowned a little harder. "What was that?"

He frowned, too. The glamour had had the absolute opposite effect as intended, because it hadn't worked. He tilted his head a little. "What are you?"

She shook her head, dismissing his question. "A waitress. Now, what was that?"

They stared at each other for a few moments before he sighed. "You were nervous. I was just trying to make you less nervous."

She stared at him for a few seconds longer. "Did you just try to hypnotize me?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Only to relax. But, for some reason, it did not work."

She set her jaw and crossed her arms. "Obviously."

Part of him was frustrated that he kept running into roadblocks, but he liked how spunky she was. How proud. The corner of his mouth twitched a little. She narrowed her eyes, but didn't say anything.

She got a box of matches out of the junk drawer (and maybe closed it a bit too hard), picked up the newspaper, and went into the living room. It took her a couple of tries to get the fire lit, but she got it on the third match. She'd given him a dirty look when he'd followed her in and tried to take over. The corner of his lip twitched a little harder.

Once it was burning well, she turned off the light and sat down on the hearth rug. He sat next to her and leaned back, propping himself up on one elbow. The only illumination was the light from the kitchen and the flames.

"You look so beautiful by the firelight."

She glanced over at him and then back. "Thank you."

Her face had softened a little, but she wasn't ready to give in just yet. He could feel that she was no longer angry, but she was still a little irritated. There were much more promising emotions lurking underneath, but also apprehension and fear. He felt it necessary to do some damage control. Plus, he found that he didn't like that she felt irritated at him, or that he'd made her feel that way.

"I am sorry that I tried to glamour you. I won't do it again."

She looked over at him again and she was a little more irritated at the reminder, but it quickly started to recede. "I guess you're forgiven."

He smiled, amused. They sat in silence a little longer, but it wasn't so awkward. He didn't mind that, either; watching the flames was hypnotizing in its own right, and the atmosphere in the room had created a sense of intimacy that was drawing them together. He could feel it. And he hadn't been lying. Sookie did look beautiful in the firelight, and he was happy to just look at her while he waited.

He was about to ask her about herself, but she caught him watching her. He smiled at her. Shyly, she smiled back. Neither wanted to look away. He couldn't help himself. He propped himself up a little higher and leaned forward and kissed her — so gently — barely touching her cheek with his left hand. She hesitated for just a moment and kissed him back.

The kiss the night before had been as much about showing off his talents and making her want him as it had been about healing her tongue or forming a blood tie or giving him comfort or easing his insecurities. This kiss was spontaneous, and not really meant to show her anything. But he knew that it did. It showed him something, too — that he didn't just want her for her body or her blood or what she was doing for him or to make him feel more secure. It didn't end at lust, hunger, gratitude, and self-preservation. She wasn't just the known. She was special, and his.

They pulled apart a minute or so later. The kiss had stayed soft. Almost chaste. She looked into his eyes. She still looked nervous, and felt even more so, but he knew very well that she wanted him. He could feel it. Smell it. See the way her eyes were hooded and her skin was flushed and how her nipples pushed against the fabric of her t-shirt, despite her bra. And there was a longing in her eyes that went beyond sex, and he was quite sure that it was reflected in his own.

He leaned forward to kiss her again, but she pulled back just a bit when he did. He stopped and leaned back again, propped up on his elbow. He couldn't help feeling a little frustration, but he kept it off his face when he smiled at her.

"It is fine. We will go at your pace."

She looked at the fire for a few minutes while he looked at her. Eventually, she sighed and looked up at the ceiling for another moment or two. It felt like she was trying to make a decision. She sighed again and looked at him.

"I'm a virgin."

He was taken aback. "Are you disfigured?"

Her eyebrows drew together in anger. "What? No!"

"You are not very young. How old are you?"

She was angry, but her eyes were starting to well up, too, which made her even more angry. She glared at him a moment before looking away. "Twenty-six." And a half.

His face softened. He wished that he hadn't upset her again, but he found it so difficult to believe. "I just don't understand. You are so beautiful. Unless it's because you prefer women?"

"No."

"You are a nun?"

She snorted and then smiled at him. There was some wryness there, but he would take it. "No, I'm not a nun. I have a bit of a… disability."

He started looking her over, trying to see anything through her clothes. She rolled her eyes.

"I told you, I'm not disfigured! It just makes it hard for me to get close to people."

He looked confused. She shrugged. "People mostly think I'm crazy."

He didn't answer right away and studied her for what felt to Sookie like a very long time. She looked at the fire and tried not to notice. Of course, she couldn't help it.

Eventually, he said, "You do not seem crazy to me."

She closed her eyes and just sat there, still, for several seconds. She sighed and then opened them again. "I'm a telepath. It's really hard to block out people's thoughts at the best of times, and impossible when I'm touching them. When I try to be intimate with someone, I can hear every single thing he's thinking about me, good, bad, or disgusting. Plus everything else he might be thinking about. Or who else. And, on the other side of the coin, people don't like to believe that I can read their minds, so they just choose to believe I'm crazy. The creepy smile I paste on my face to try to cover up the fact that I'm hearing everything they think doesn't help."

He studied her a little longer. "Can you read my mind?"

She shook her head. "You're the only person I've ever met whose mind I couldn't."

Their eyes were locked again. He started to prop himself up a little higher. "I do not think you are crazy." He leaned forward.

She hesitated just a bit, then leaned forward, too, to meet him in the middle.