Another extended scene from VHD: Bloodlust. The scene is the rain storm. It always seemed rather…stiff to me. This is, again, Leila's thoughts on D.
The rain was making me sentimental. I had admitted as much to the dunpeal although why, I hadn't the slightest idea. I had just kept rambling on, about memories I rarely allowed myself to dwell upon much less speak about. I couldn't for the life of me understand why I'd divulged such personal things to this dunpeal hunter…this D. All I knew was that it was easy. Easy to talk to him. Easy to be near him. Easy to trust him.
It was wrong. I needed to be on my guard, especially around him. He was competition, not to mention a dunpeal. I was fraternizing with the enemy. I should hate him, treat him with the same kind of contempt I'd treated him before.
Except…he had saved my life. He had treated me with respect and dignity, even kindness. And now he was practically helpless, buried in the life-saving soil up to his slender neck. It seemed almost ridiculous to be defensive around him now. His aura was no less commanding than ever, but even he seemed less constrained than before. He was still far from talkative, but when he did speak, his voice was…rather pleasant. No, more than that. It was smooth and velvety. Dark and rich like the finest chocolate. Melodious. Sexy.
Whoa! I didn't know where that thought had come from! I was not attracted to this…this dunpeal! I couldn't be. He was practically the same as a vampire for crying out loud! The very idea…it was repulsive! Offensive to the core of my being!
And yet…right now none of that seemed to matter. Isolated here in the trees with the rain muting out the world, he was simply a man. A beautiful man. I couldn't stop my eyes from taking in his face at this close distance. I had been avoiding looking directly at him, fearful I guess, of him being able to read the thoughts in my expression. But I was so…relaxed…now. I knew he could see me, that I was being obvious in my staring. But he didn't say anything, didn't look away. So I let myself indulge in the haunting beauty of his countenance. His fine, pale skin. His long, slightly curling hair fanned out around him on the ground. Long, patrician nose. Cheekbones sharp, jawline strong. Eyes full of arcane mystery…unfathomable and deep as the ocean at midnight. But it was his lips I could not tear my gaze from. His lips were perfectly shaped. Poetic. And more than anything, despite everything, I wanted to know what they felt like. If they tasted as good as they looked.
God, I was so wrong. So, so wrong. But I just couldn't seem to make myself care. Oh, I'd care plenty later. When I wasn't near him. When I couldn't feel the dominance of his presence. When I wasn't able to look at him and couldn't feel the weight of his gaze in return. Yes, I would certainly care later that I had helped bury him in the dirt when he was weak, that I had sat so close to him, lowered my guard and told him my past, made a pact with him about flowers. And I would certainly care that I had fantasized about how delicious his mouth would be. Yes, I would certainly care about that later. At this moment, however, I was content to just be here. With him.