THE LAMENT OF PERFIDY
CHAPTER ONE: temptation to eviscerate.
❝ darling, you’re already in my veins. ❞
➶-͙˚ ༘✶
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“THEN HE KISSED HER.” Stefan Salvatore paused, peering down at Guinevere, his Guinevere, positioned so close to him. His voice, like melodious music hummed into her earlobes, he recited with eloquence again. “At his lips’ touch, she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.”
His voice, projected across the room in a perfectly measured pace, unhurried. But Guinevere was only half-listening, she could not divert her attention span from the feel of the slow and gentle thump of her suitor's heartbeat, keeping him alive. Her current location on his lap allowed the unique and uncommon ability to feel every inch of movement made by him, from the elegant rise in his chest as his lung civilly fought for its deep wisps of breath from the air that the pair bathed into the graceful bobbing of his Adam's Apple when he swallows a chunk of saliva.
Even the slightest shift of his thighs could be felt, as if it came from her, as she was seated flatly above him, her back pressed tightly to his chest. The pair was reclined on the young Salvatore's bed, his back leaned against the headboard with a book clutched in his left hand and a strand of the brunette locks twirled in that of his right hand.
Stefan continued his reading of ‘The Great Gatsby’. She sighed in contentment, nuzzling the back of her head more into his chest. There was nothing more precious than his shared sentiment with her regarding books. Guinevere absentmindedly trailed the tip of her fair-skin nimble fingers up and down his arm, repeating the pattern several times, until her eyes fluttered shut.
Reciting the devastatingly captivating words of Scott Fitzgerald to his beauteous damsel had been a novelty for him as well. Momentarily halting, he glances down at her hands, clutched around his arm, which had been ridden in goosebumps. Stefan doubted whether or not she was aware of her effect on him. There was not a soul on this planet like her, his mind had constantly mulled over the reality where a clean-cut guy hadn’t swooped in and charmed her before him (excluding the little runt, Tyler, who in Stefan's opinion hadn't deserved her all) and yet he was very pleased with her lack of past all the same. The two-hundred-year-old creature had a past painfully big enough for both of them.
Tossing the hardcover on the foot of the mattress, his eyes shifted to the girl that plagued his mind during sleepless dusks – only to find her half-awake. “You're not falling asleep on me, are you?” Her eyes flashed open faster than he could mutter ‘death’. He had not expected that would prove effective.
Guinevere, momentarily disorientated, felt the deep grumble his abdomen which was pressed against her lower back. Blinking several times, mentally scolding herself for not getting the early night's rest she required to function consciously. “No,” she replied, craning her neck in his direction, displaying a cheeky grin, an idea forming. “Your captivating voice lulled me into an unwanted sleep.” With mischief swimming in her silver lightening hues, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
Stephan eyes drifted to her lips, teeth devotedly sunk into it, morphing the lip's usual colour to a crimson shade, a red shade, a dark hue very closely related to blood. His sustenance. His eyes darkening, he swallowed the pool of saliva that formed on his tongue. He shaped his lip into a tight line, fearing the dangerous tone of his voice had he dared open his mouth.
The creature of the night’s once lime tinged irises morphed to an inky abyss of blackness, with its debut it promises the arrival of the onyx veins that would expose the monster he had attempted to bury deep within.
As if his appearance had mirrored his thoughts, he wondered, how sweet her liquid red would taste, how euphoric it would feel to sink his teeth into her slender neck, to break the delicate skin with his fangs, doing exactly what he wanted to do ever since he first laid eyes on her. He’d shamefully fantasised about it many times, fantasised about satisfying the ravenous system and when the deed had been done he’d simply heal her pretty little human neck with his blood as if the sinful moment had never occurred at all. And snatching the scene from her mind simply because he could, selfishly containing the pleasurable memory for himself.
But as quickly as these disturbing string of thoughts entered his mind, they exited just as quickly, on his command. But what remained was the unprecedented desire burning in his chest as his eyes had yet to be unattached from her soft lips. His forest-green orbs lightened up yet again but only in subtlety, the darkness still skulk in the shadows deep within, awaiting, with great patience, to rise to power in his weakness hour of need, Stefan rued the day that he would permanently lose all his self-control, that everything his buried inside, would come rushing to the surface.
But not today, not with her.
Stefan would rather discard his lapis lazuli gemstone and have the fatality of the sunlight’ rays take him prisoner and condemn him to ashes before any danger befell her, least of all at his hand.
Stefan could not begin to comprehend the depth of feeling he possessed for the not-entirely-human girl gazing up at him with a galaxy of stars singularly compacted in ash-coloured eyes.
But he knew one thing: he wanted her, in any way he could have her. And with that revelation, he impulsively opened his mouth, taking a chance. “I think I know how to keep you awake.” His words, accompanied by a suggestive smirk, sent shivers down her spine. His smirk widens when he felt it.
“H-how?” She managed to say, her eyes dilated.
Being birthed in the golden era where the lack of chivalry and honour brought shame to his family name, Stefan was taught to behave like the gentleman, but the insinuation of his actions was contrasted with everything he believed in, and in some ways, it was more severe than if
he were to devote his life to be an avid blood consumer. But he could not resist the urge, as tempting as it seemed, she was much too mouthwatering, in more ways than one.
“Close your eyes, Guinevere.” And so she did, without a moments thought. Completely and utterly incapable of denying him or fighting the spell he cast at this very moment.
But here's the bulk of irony: it was Stefan, the vegetarian vampire, who had felt bewitched, both in mind and in the body. In turn, brought up the palm of his hand to gently caress the soft skin of her cheek. He inched his facial figure closer to hers, his hot breath fanning on her lip, the lower yet again trapped – even tighter than before, between her teeth. And her scent, the mouthwatering smell, surrounded him like a border, there was not a corner untouched by it. She was everywhere, it was bittersweet. It only seems to enhance his hunger tenfold. He saw red, literally.
He could feel himself losing the internal civil war. His grip on what little humanity he had nearly slipped. But a faint throb collided into him like a runaway train, it was her heartbeat. Her heart was hammering in the cage formed by with her ribs and vigorously so. Shocked flooded through his system like a tidal wave. Had his actions, however subtle they may seem, held this much power over her reactions? He refocused his enhanced hearing on the sound of her heartbeat, allowing it to lull the most admirable part of him back to her. Thump Thump Thump. It was this, more than anything else, that calmed Stefan.
He refocused his attention back to her, who was patiently awaiting his advances. He rubbed his thumb across her blazing hot cheeks, she, in return, leaned her into him, excitement running through her veins as a result of the promise of what was to come. He gently brushed his nose against hers, silently asking for permission to lock lips. Her velvety tongue slip between her plump lips, licking her bottom lip ever so slowly, much to Stefan's (dis)pleasure. It was all the indication Stefan needed to lessen the space between them completely.
His lips engulfed hers, the ardent nature of the kiss caught her off guard, however premeditated the kiss was. At his lips’ touched, Guinevere bloomed for him like a flower just as Daisy did for Jay. A flower that had experienced its first ray of sunshine. He was her moon, providing her with light at the end of an unforgiving and cold tunnel. And she was his sun, providing him with the blinding light that had been snatched from him, but it wasn't his to keep. It was as if he was living off borrowed air. But didn't have the strength to resist her, not anymore.
When she retreated for air, he scanned her features, she's all crimson cheeks and heavy breaths, hair in havoc – in short: she was stunning. What he said next was more of a self-directed inquiry than a statement to her but it set her heart alit.
Placing a chaste yet lingering kiss on Guinevere's neck, carefully avoiding her pulse, he whispered in a hushed tone, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you look right now?”
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∞.┊❪ the lament of perfidy. ❫ ❛ TO HAVE HER IS TO HAVE THE SUN. ❜ ︵︵︵︵︵︵︵ ❛ ୧⁺‧͙ love is an emblem of ete...
