Alec never felt as though he missed sleeping, at first he remembered the distinct fear of remembering the flames engulf his body, the despicable stench of burning flesh. But soon it transitioned into a hatred for anything that reminded him of the vile scum that resembled everything mundane.
But it was as he saw her beige skin, glowing in the dark blanket of the night, one arm curved underneath the dove white pillow. That he truly wished he could sleep, if only so he could sleep beside her. He could no longer hold himself back, as he leaned in, and softly brushed his lips against the corner of her eye.
She did not stir, or wake. But rather sighed, her breathing returning to normal.
He had been avoiding her lately, and strangely enough it made her sad.
The word itself felt much too simplistic as to the complex emotions that brew within her. She was angry as well, so very angry that he would toy with her emotions so carelessly. And though that should have been enough to ward off every happy thought and kind image she had of him, they remained even stronger.
Her heart ached, and her eyes shed tears now and then.
It was nine-twenty six when Eleazer left, he to,d he great tales of how he and his wife, Carmen, traveled the world. Every night he would tell her a bit more, and she would ask a question now and then. Which he would efficiently answer, unlike Alec who often stumbled on his explanations.
It seemed someone, was not as intelligent as they liked to believe.
It had been many days since Heidi had brought back fresh humans, and he could not bare to stay in the same room as her. With his thirst quenched, he could often come to her with a rational mind. But now he feared that either his hunger or his sexual desire for her would overcome any strength he had remaining.
He had no training in keeping his thirst under lock and key, and this whenever he even caught a whiff of her scent in the hallway. He heard her play though, her clumsy, untrained fingers scampering over the piano.
She was a step up from terrible.
It had been his mistake, walking so casually around the castle at a dreadfully slow pace. Her eyes had only caught him for a second, and when they both noticed he knew he no longer had the patience to pull himself away from her.
Her eyebrows scrunched together, and her mouth pulled in a straight line. Her breathing rushed as she walked closer and closer to him.
"Why are you mad at me?" She demanded, and he could hardly restrain from laughing.
"You think I'm mad at you?" His tone was harsh, which had been unintended. But she failed to back down and cower in fear.
"No I know you are." Her words bit, and slashed. She was so close, her scent so deliciously overwhelming that he couldn't keep himself away any longer. In one swift motion he held her in place by placing his hands on her shoulders, and in the next his mouth pressed against her own.
She was delicate, but not nearly as delicate as he made her out to be. He was content, if not anything more, by how their relationship was escalating. Days would be spent in his room, reading or guiding her hand in place on the piano. Often stealing a kiss here and there, much to her dismay.
He was fully aware that she wasn't in her right mind when she pursued their budding romance. She was lonely, and in a tower full of vampires who shared none of her interests or even quality of life. All except for two, whom still had large differences with she. They were polar opposites to him, he was death and she was life, she was as hot as the flames that engulfed him and he was as cold as the night. Yet they were so drawn to one another.
She had tried several times to refuse him, and several times she had failed miserably.
It was a late mid-summer afternoon, and they seated themselves on the large blue arm chair in the corner of his room. She was placed sideways on his lap, her head resting against his chest as they read from the same book.
He had fed much more then needed to be certain he wouldn't lose control when they were in such close proximity.
She's noticed his room was mundane enough, though there wasn't a bed. But the empty space was filled with large bookcases, full of books of all sorts. The pages yellowed with age, and the covers creased indefinitely.
"Sky, ask me a question." He begged, her never ending flow of questions never seemed to bother him. Yet another thing he could neither comprehend, or bother to question.
"You know, I can't just come up with random questions, that's not how this works." Her breath was light, teasing him as she shifted her hand which remained encased in his. He smelled like vanilla, sweet and innocent. The very opposite of what he truly was, but that was not evident. He remained the boy who taught her to clumsily play the piano with an infinite trench of patience.
"Why can't you sleep?" She finally whispered, her eyes flickering to his face. Her long black eyelashes brushing against her eyebrow. He was silent for several long moments. Drawing her closer to him before he began.
"Sleeping is almost equivalent to aging, and my aging process had been permanently frozen as you know." She nodded, her gaze still intent. "In order for our body's to remain frozen in time we must add a few new lifestyle choices-"
"Like drinking blood" she said quickly, and he nodded pecking her temple gently and enjoying her heart rate freeze.
"And lose a few of out old ones," She laughed, enjoying how he stumbled for words. She knew that he was very knowledgable and more than often held the information to answer her questions, he just didn't know how to phrase it. His heart was tender when it came to her, she knew that, just not the significance of it.
They knew not the accursed fate of their romance, only that he was dead yet he had never felt more alive in his existence.