Vivian

Never being able to go all the way to sex whenever you two make out because you’re so scared of what would happen if you let yourself get that overstimulated. Scared you’d hurt them, scared instinct would take over, scared that you have no idea if the primal part of your brain would see them as a mate or as food. It somehow hurts you how nice they are, how when you’d stop and hesitate they’d tell you not to worry about it. So patient. So sweet. They deserve so much better.

Not being able to feed properly anymore because it feels like you’re cheating on them, with how lust mixes with hunger to create bloodlust. Feeling so guilty, not for the murder but for the ‘cheating’, that you fall to your knees beside the corpse and just cry. Blood and tears mixing as they fall to the concrete.

Starving yourself of blood because you can’t bear the guilt of feeling bloodlust anymore, wishing you could just eat and it be solely about eating food and nothing more. As if it’s your fault your brain produces oxytocin when you feed.

But starving yourself makes you more violent, aggressive, dangerous, and you don’t even realise. They’re scared of you now, and it feels like every conversation they have with you becomes an argument they’re destined to lose.

And one night an argument leads into a violent make out session, pinning them against the wall, you snarling and growling as instinct begins to blind you, and to their surprise you try to go further than you have before.

They stop you, not because they don’t want to but because you’ve never acted like this before, you’ve always been the one to not want anything further and they want to respect that. “Are you sure you’re.. that you want this tonight? Not tomorrow, when you’re maybe a bit calmer?” they ask softly.

You -blinded by instinct and hunger- of course take that personally and argue with them.

They merely frown. “I don’t understand. You’re so.. violent today. D-Did I do something? Are you mad at me?” they tear up.

Hunger fades enough for you to grimace in shame and guilt. You assure them it’s not their fault, but at this point they just don’t believe you. You realise your nails have turned to claws that have been digging sharply into their shoulders for who knows how long.

You’re hurting them.

How long have you been hurting them and they never told you?

You retract your hands away and tear up as well, apologising desperately. They try to smile but struggle to from the pain.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you stopped.” they even try to chuckle but the usually warm and soft noise just makes your gut wrench in guilt.

You continue to apologise but even though they say they forgive you you can’t help but doubt it.

You fucked up. You really fucked up. You should’ve just told them from the beginning. Now you’ve hurt them. Now they’re scared of you. You did the one thing you promised them you never would.

Where do you even go from here?