I mean, we all know where this can only end up going...

he he he

-YD-

Vlad wasn't sure why he was surprised, other than that Ingrid was voluntarily touching him again. Well. Biting him. There were fresh bruises on both sides of his neck, littering his collarbone, skin pulsing and aching pleasantly as her teeth dug down again. Ingrid had to know the effect she was having on him, blood flowing south with every new bite.

The fact she was even in his bedroom sounded like a lurid fantasy nobody would ever believe, even as she attacked the delicate skin of his neck again and Vlad was finding it harder to stay still, to not beg her to stop - because who would, in their right mind, want Ingrid to stop touching them - so he could catch his breath and try to will away his erection before it made things awkward.

Even so, Ingrid couldn't possibly ignore the thrum of his pulse, the scent of arousal on the air. She came up to breathe again, faintest flush on her cheeks and chest heaving with panting breaths; this would undoubtedly be feeding the ever-growing vampiric side of her, get her fired up though perhaps in a different way to Vlad. Her eyes were turning black, still hovering at the edge between human and creature. To his great surprise, her eyes flickered between his neck and his lips, as though the girl atop him was considering-

"Vladdy!"

Ingrid leapt off of him as if she'd been burned, pushing away as his bedroom door flew open, revealing his dad standing there. The Count stared down at the bed, perplexed by the scene before him - there was little doubt something had been going on, and he'd be able to hear racing hearts, see the bruises forming on Vlad's skin while Ingrid's own marble tone was completely unblemished.

"Dad! Go away!"

"But I-"

"Go!"

Grumbling, his father turned and left in a speedy zipping, room-rattling flit. If Ingrid hadn't already known what she was, what they were, that could have been incredibly suspect. Still, the damage was done. Ingrid climbed off his bed, glancing back at his covered neck for a second before she was picking up her skull-shaped bag. Vlad tried to think of words that would make her stay, but his mind was utterly blank. As he followed Ingrid down numbly, making sure his dad didn't try and eat her, Vlad also contemplated simply staking his dad.

Ingrid almost kissed him.

That definitely happened. Well, almost. It seemed to be heading that way...

Ok, so she hadn't definitely almost kissed him. But Vlad was sure it could have gone that way if his dad hadn't came in and ruined it. Alone with a slightly perplexed Dracula, Vlad closed the castle door and turned to his sheepish-looking parent.

"What are you doing awake? It's not even dark yet!"

"I didn't realise you had company. You move fast, you dark horse!"

Vlad rolled his eyes.

"And you scared her off. So thanks for that."

He could feel his dad eyeing his bruises. There were several more than there had been earlier; Vlad was very glad it was the weekend, that he had a couple of days to figure out what to do with the mess she'd made of him.

First... Vlad really needed a cold shower.

Flopping down onto his bed with a groan, Vlad rubbed a hand over his face. If he wasn't still aching, he'd scarcely have believed Ingrid had really been there. Even with the scent of her perfume infusing itself into his sheets. Being caught by his dad was a pretty effective arousal-killer, but it still left Vlad confused and unsettled. Ingrid was the personification of mixed signals, blowing hot and cold constantly until Vlad was so turned around he didn't know which way was up, let alone where he actually stood with her.

And he was meant to be going up town with Robin tomorrow. That was going to be a fun explanation. Groaning, Vlad got up and went to his pile of clothes, sorting through it for a thick hoody that would probably make him sweat, but at least it might have a chance at concealing the state of his neck. Ingrid had gone lower down this time, perhaps innately knowing where she could bite without actually tearing a blood vessel - he'd probably be a less willing victim if she actually killed him.

It still confused him though; Ingrid could get any guy to let her bite and bruise their neck. Why him? It had to be that he understood the compulsion. He couldn't imagine anything else initially drawing her to him, other than that they both had something deep and probably terrifying in their future.

Getting up the next morning, Vlad looked at the bruising that had since had time to develop. Blood and garlic, Ingrid was rough with him. Vlad hadn't realised he was in to that before her. Then again, it might just be that he was in to her. Vlad had never had much interest in breather girls, possibly because he knew it would never go anywhere. But he'd not had much interest in vampire women either.

Ingrid was somewhere in the middle, and he definitely had an interest in her.

Tugging on the heavy hoody, Vlad sighed as his vampire-temperature body complained of the warm layers in the warm air, heading down the stairs to get breakfast before he went to meet Robin.

"Ah, Vladdy. I do hope there are no hard feelings about that breather girl."

"Just... stay out of my room in future! Or stay asleep in the day like you're always insisting vampires should. Next time I'll leave the window open so you explode if you come in."

Vlad doubted Ingrid was ever going to come back, but the threat seemed to hit its mark. With the spring fading closer to summer, the tower window let in a lot of sunlight. So a full blood, transformed (nearly six centuries ago) vampire wouldn't want to encounter that room. Smirking to himself as his dad baulked, Vlad picked up his toast and headed toward the front door. Before he could say he was going out, there was a rapid knock at the castle door before Robin simply let himself in. For such a chronically lazy human, Robin always seemed perfectly happy to climb the hills to the spooky old castle.

Rather unobservant, especially with vampire stuff about, Robin didn't seem to notice Vlad was dressed poorly for the heat or that the reason for that was the ravaged skin beneath. Finally dragging his friend away to get out into the sunshine, (while he still could) Vlad drifted in and out of what Robin was spouting, pondering the upcoming Monday - his uniform wouldn't cover much, and he might have the chance to actually ask Ingrid what the blood and garlic she wanted from him. Not that he expected an answer... but Vlad needed a little clarity before he went crazy.

-YD-

Short and late but I had wifi issues and writers block, and I apologise but next chapter... well, I imagine you'll like it!