Disclaimer: Indeed, I must apologize for my delay in updating this story, which seems to actually be quite popular. I am NOT the owner of the series Twilight, but I would still like for you to REVIEW my story. REVIEWS make the world go round, you know. And so, I give you chapter 7 of 'The Lady and the Vampire'. Xoxo NICO'SLADY
I stand by the four-post bed in what is now my room. Edward explained that the bed is really there out of just habit; I will never sleep again. I coldness settles over my heart when I realize that I will never again dream. I look down and see that my glimmering white hands tremble slightly. I try to forget that these are the hands that just brutally murdered my best friend, but the mind of a vampire is not so relenting.
I close my eyes, but every time my lids lower I see upon them the image I cannot erase. I grit my teeth in a very unladylike way, and grip the bed post fiercely, feeling the horrendous guilt for this great sin staining my soul. I hear the crack of wood, and, surprised, I pull my hand away, only to find it covered in sawdust and splinters. I have broken the post, leaving a dent in the wood in the shape of my hand. Seething, I slump onto the ground. Must I destroy every good thing that I touch? I bury my new porcelain face in my new deadly hands.
There comes a quiet knock upon the heavy wood door. A tentative "Miss Isabella?" follows.
I don't even look up. I simply uncover my mouth and, against all propriety and wisdom, allow a man into my bedchamber. "You may enter." I say quietly.
Count Edward pushes the large door with no effort whatsoever. I realize that I have never even seen an expression of strain mark his tight white brow. He crosses the threshold with a terrible grace, and comes to sit beside me. He hesitates for a moment, as if for once he is not completely sure what to do. Then a hand connects with my back.
"You are too bold by half." I warn him, but he does not remove his hand. I am a little angered now. Doesn't he take me seriously? "I say, get your hand off me." I command a tad more forcefully this time. He rejects me once more.
I rise to my feet in a torrent of swirling petticoats. I fasten those killing hands around his wrist and pull it off me with what I know must be more force than a mere mortal could even dream of possessing. Count Edward lets out a faint moan; there is a screeching noise, and then a thud upon the floor. We both look down at the cause for the sound simultaneously. It is a glistening white hand.
"My God." I whisper. I can think of nothing else. Meanwhile, Count Edward nonchalantly reached down and picks up the severed limb. He touches the ends of his wrist and hand together and suddenly… he is one once more. He looks up at me.
"Miss Swan, were you unaware of this capability?" He asks. His eyes, I see, are black as the depths of a wishing well. I do not know what this means yet.
"No, I was not." I am too stupefied to thing of a proper retort. "Your eyes…. What of their color?"
"Oh, these?" He poses a question, but tone is flat. He understands me precisely.
"Indeed." I say, trying to restrain a most impolite roll of my own eyes. These pulse a sickening red.
"A vampire's eyes mutate gradually from red to black if they have not…fed recently. Since I did not drink from you entirely, I am still… for lack of a better word, thirsty." He says. At this I see a bit of pain pass over his face, and I know his throat must burn with flame of bloodlust.
"Why are you wasting your precious time speaking with the inconsolable me if you are so hungry?" I inquire
"Because I can control myself." He says, "Unlike you. And, right now, you are more important to me than my need."
This is an obvious hit upon my previous behavior. I give a frown. "Don't hinder yourself for my sake. I have done enough to you."
"No, not nearly enough." He moves closer to me as he says this, and suddenly his mouth is so close to mine that I can almost taste his sweet breath upon my aching tongue. No, I must stop myself. This is entirely inappropriate. This is not right. He is a vampire. But, I am too, and among my needs with my thirst is the need for passions I have not yet known. I let out a minute moan.
But I stop myself before I can continue further. There will be other times to learn of this strange new desire. Right now is the time for teaching, and a time for grieving over the murder I have committed.
"You must feed, then. And I want you to teach me. You must show me the proper way to… execute a feeding, so that I may ensure that something like this does not occur again." I murmur these words against his mouth, then step away, trying to hide that even though I do not require oxygen, my breathing has accelerated to a haggard pant.
"Are you really so ready to learn about this, considering your recent traumatic experience?" Count Edward puts this forth cautiously.
"Yes. How else will I ever overcome it?" I say. "I must watch you feed. You must also show me how to capture my prey… humanely, for what I have done is not humane."
He nods slowly. "Indeed then. I will select an easy target for beginning then. And I must warn you, even though you may feel full, once you smell blood, nothing will stop you from feeding just as ravenously as you would had you just gone weeks without sustenance. The only difference is it will be unnecessary." He says, once more warning me of what I have become.
"I understand. And I want to commence this expedition as quickly as possible. I do not want to linger for too long out of doors." I say, aware of how I behaved among the people earlier.
"As you wish. And I assume that you would like a little time to… compose yourself before we go on this little jaunt to find food." Count Edward notes, taking in my disheveled hair and rumpled dress.
"Indeed," I mutter halfway to myself as I show him out the door. As I shut it, I lean back against it, still hyperventilating just as seriously as before.