Long time no see, huh?
So I'm back with a new chapter! I hope you enjoy it.
I don't own Elsword nor its characters.
"You can leave now" the words slid through his lips with a bitter taste following them, permeating the back of his throat. His pale and slender fingers ran through the silver waves framing his face as the sound of a heavy door closing behind him echoed in the small room, he removed the hairpin that held the hair in a neat ponytail and could almost swear that the walls around him were trembling with the strength of that departure. Letting himself fall on the nearest arm chair he rested his elbows on the knees and pinched his nose bridge, a deep frown forming pronounced wrinkles on his forehead. The tall walls of the library had never felt so oppressing, the room never felt as empty when he spent entire afternoons reading by himself. And there was that smell too, that lingered stubbornly on the air around him, surrounding and suffocating him almost mockingly with the scent of blood and sweetness and her. It made the ichor boil inside of his body with a heat that was still foreign.
A long and exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he scratched his head strongly with both hands, messing and pulling the hair between his fingers. Little by little his mind started to cloud while the agitation built up increasingly in the pit of his stomach, making his insides squirm uncontrollably. Something that screamed inside of him, pulsating, vibrating. Swallowing the saliva that had accumulated profusely on the walls of his mouth, he savored that metallic taste once again. It quickly took over his senses, invading him like a powerful drug that over and over threatened to drive him to madness. He stood up abruptly with a sharp movement, pushing the armchair to the ground as his body found the strength to move forward, making his way out of the library and slamming the door shut as if a dreadful monster chased him closely. He knew he couldn't stay any longer in that room flooded with the particular aroma.
Add met the soulless eyes of one of the maids in his way through the long corridor, the sight of that empty body being almost repulsive to him. He held back the sudden urge to gag that made his throat feel sore and muttered to her an order to send the invitations he had previously prepared to their recipients, between a confusing babbling and words that spilled messily from his mouth. The answer was a quiet nod and the figure of the woman disappearing in one of the rooms. The mansion was full of employees that dealt with everything he couldn't bother to do, but talking to them and expecting a response was pointless. Ever since he had been brought to the place the same people occupied it, and from that point on he had tried several times to strike a conversation with them, to relate to them , to find in the wandering figures some sort of company that never came, until he gave up entirely. All that ever truly spoke to him were the books crowding the big construction, every room filled with old tomes that successfully provided a voice to listen for the lonely vampire.
His hand held the doorknob of his bedroom tightly for a long moment before finally deciding to enter. The dark room receiving him with a comfortable sensation of familiarity. There the persistent smell of that sickeningly addictive blood couldn't follow him, he would be able to have some peace before the wild instincts that were pushing inside his stomach could break free and bend his conscious will. He closed his eyes strongly to avoid looking at the distorting walls that seemed to melt around him, and let himself fall blindly over the soft mattress of his bed, topped with silky covers. But laying down only made the nausea grow even more intensely between his tongue and throat, and he would have thrown up if it wasn't for the fact that there was nothing to vomit to begin with. A bloody cough shook his body and the warm liquid rushed up through his throat as if wanting to mock his condition even further. He cussed under his breath, pressing a hand around his neck in an attempt of stopping the blood from advancing into his dry mouth. He knew this constant struggle was a fair price to pay for his desired absolution, that the cleansing of his sins was going to be nothing but these frequent headaches and shuddering, that it was a battle he would always have to face if he refused to lose himself to the beastly whispering inside his head. On the back of his eyelids he could see Ara's figure squirming under the piercing of his hungry fangs, and a mixture of disgust and a guilty pleasure invaded him in waves of complicated feelings. If he was the sinner, then she was the redemption and the judge. But also the gluttonous hunger that defied his will.
He felt exhausted, like his body was slowly sinking into the bed, devoured by his own heavy thoughts. Anything he could manage to think about could potentially distract him from the voices that spoke to him from the deepest part of his guts, and there was just one thing constantly circling inside his head, over and over, until it consumed him almost entirely. He didn't know how much time had passed with him laying dejectedly on his bed, but would have said hours if forced to make a guess, maybe a whole day. To him, it did feel like an eternity of just pure agony and an endless battle unfolding inside of him. Right at the moment he opened his eyes the decision of ending that struggle was taken.
The maids didn't even turn to look at him when he made his appearance on the drawing room, busy with the chores of keeping the big mansion clean and presentable. He slid the heavy curtain that covered one of the tall windows to a side, contemplating the vast garden that preceded the building submerged in a dense darkness. A small nod went unnoticed. He closed the big gates of the entrance behind him and walked down the stone path that twisted between large and leafy trees until the beginning of the property, the echo of his strong steps mixing with the sounds of the chirping crickets and the wind blowing between the leaves and making his loose hair flow around his stern face. He knew he could have made the trip a lot faster by just dashing his way to the destination, but walking through that forest like garden felt soothing enough for him to be drawn to enjoy the walk.
By that time of the night the streets of the town were already emptied, and even though the contrast of that especially dark evening and his perfectly white attire drew the attention of the few merchants that were still closing their shops, he couldn't bother with paying any attention to them. He couldn't see anything but the way ahead of him, his determination slowly pushing him to pick up his pace as the twirling of his stomach reminded him of the presence that still wanted to make itself triumphant. Once he was finally out of sight he started dashing across the empty streets, the invigorating rush sharpening his senses as his chest started to fill up with a particular smell. Even if it was a blind race, he knew he could always trust the powerful perception that curse had given him. It led him to an old building of three floors, noticeably neglected by the course of time and irresponsible owners. A series of unpleasing odors overflowed his senses, but between all those disgusting traces a certain smell stood out, picking up his interest. The strongest proof of this success was the twisting of his stomach and the pulsation inside his head becoming stronger, louder. He felt accelerated and that was enough for him to know it was the right place to be. Not wanting to waste any more time, he got closer to the building to examine it carefully, glancing up at all the small windows that didn't show any sign of movement inside.
Taking a small impulse, he jumped up with a single, powerful movement, holding onto the bars of a narrow balcony that surrounded one of the windows on the third floor. With a second, short jump he managed to move swiftly into the inside of the balcony, now facing the window-like door that led to the room. He stood there for a brief moment, waiting for that distinguishable aroma to make itself present before deciding it was the right room. Soon enough, the sensations that invaded his body and overflowed him with wild urges became even stronger that before, and he couldn't help but lick his own lips at the expectation that the desired objective produced. So he pushed the door open softly, almost fearful of making any small sound, and introduced himself to the bedroom, bathed in shadows.
It had a simple single bed cornered against a wall and an old drawer by its only furniture, every line traced with a white light that shimmered in the darkness, contoured by the dim glow of the moon leaking inside. Add could feel it now, more strongly than ever before, that sweet smell that was now taking over his senses entirely, shutting everything else off. His eyes travelled through the room until he found her, curling up on the bed, facing the wall, only the lower part of her body covered with the thin and old sheets. So calm, so fragile, so vulnerable, so absolutely open to anything he dared to do, so defenselessly exposed to him. He took a step closer to the bed, and then a couple more until his knees were touching the edge, staring at her with a powerful sensation of guilt and remorse battling up against the urges that made his insides go mad. Her closed eyes, her parted mouth, her thin figure hugging itself, the slow rhythm of her breath, her long hair spread on the pillow under her. He could feel all sense of purpose leaving his body as the consciousness of his own desires rushed back to him like an aggressive reproach, his limbs becoming weaker and weaker and the gluttonous expression that had showed up on his face giving place to the look a defeated man.
His chest tightened with conflicting emotions and he found himself trembling uncontrollably, hundreds of different thoughts shouting on his mind at the same time with an overwhelming strength that left him defenseless to his internal battle. There was no stopping now and he knew this even when his own sense of righteousness pushed disgust up his throat, even now that his consciousness was an active witness of the unleashing of his deepest instincts, and he could do nothing but watch in horror almost as if looking at himself from the outside. His own hands grabbing her shoulders and turning her body on her back, pinning her down against the mattress as his body positioned itself over hers, his knees by her sides. Ara's face being closer and closer as he lowered his head, seeking the heat that held the source of this lack of control. He buried his face against her neck, opening his mouth to let his lips hug that soft and warm skin and his fangs to rub her.
She gasped loudly, and he let himself fall even further onto her in response.
I know this chapter was a little bit shorter than the rest, but...I kinda like it this way so I didn't want to add unnecessary stuff to it. I hope it doesn't feel rushed!
Also, nanashimai : You're really sweet. Don't worry about that, I'm a lot better now! Thank you for your concern, and for being such a loyal reader too. I really really appreciate it!
As always, comments and reviews are always greatly appreciated!
See you soon.