#delilah coded

Delilah gingerly pulled her boots off. The softness of the couch did little for the aching wounds on her legs and back. She sighed– not that breathing was necessary– but more out of habit. Today had gone to shit and she knew it. The job had been completed, sure, but she'd taken one hell of a beating in the process.

“Need some help?” A gruff voice spoke from behind her— the tone was familiar and comforting. She closed her eyes to embrace that feeling for a brief moment before grimacing and turning to face him.

“Are you asking because you’re worried, or because you wanna see me naked, Damien?” The vibration of her voice felt strained in her throat. Damien seemed to take a moment to examine her. With a raised an eyebrow he clearly eyed the thick black and blue bruises on her neck. He shook his head slightly and then took a few steps to stand before her.

“As if you need to get your ass kicked for me to see you naked. Delilah.” Damien retorted as he gripped the bottom of her shirt and lifted the fabric above her head. The harsh tone of his voice made her recoil slightly. He folded her shirt, setting it on the arm of the couch before giving her an apologetic look. “… sorry, I just don’t see you like this often…" He retreated into the other room, but not before mumbling "It's unsettling."

The shower roared to life and Damien returned with a silky, black robe. This wasn’t his, of course; with how often she found herself crashing at his tucked away apartment, she had left some of her belongings here.

“C'mon, I’ll wash your hair- I don’t know whose blood it is but it’s really dragging down all that sexy bed head you wear around.” He seemed to opt for a more comforting tone, placing a hand on her shoulder. She beamed up at him, taking the robe, and followed into the bathroom with tentative steps.

Once in the bathroom Damien knelt before her and made quick experienced work with the various belt buckles and buttons. Delilah leaned forward and gripped his shoulder as he began to pull her pants off. It took a few moments, the blood that soaked her jeans had begun to dry and adhere the fabric to her skin.

Now naked, Delilah slid into the tub and faced the wall. She heard him grab the sponge off of the dish and run it under the warm water. Slowly he used it to dab against her wounds. The gashes would heal fast because of her nature, no need for things like stitches– but it would take time. Silently, she stared down as the blood tinted water as it swirled down the drain. She sniffed and rolled her head back to stare at Damien. He wasn’t looking in her eyes but rather focused on her shoulders. She felt the rasp in her throat as she spoke.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what did this.”

“Delilah, I don’t even wanna know.” He said finally looking into her eyes. She smiled, that’s what she liked so much about him. He never asked too many questions, it's not that he didn't care about her, he just knew that she'd offer up what information was relevant when necessary. He never even cared about the distinct red tone of her eyes when they met— though they were dark enough to be mistaken as brown, he’d seen her in far too many close up situations to not have noticed. There was a silent agreement there, she'd never said what she was, but Damien knew.

“Okay stick your head under the water” he instructed as he lathered the shampoo in his hands. Delilah enjoyed the scent, like fresh chopped pine and had a slightly metallic smell. It reminded her of blood, her mouth filled with saliva. She swallowed hard and clearing her throat, the familiar pang of hunger made her teeth itch.

Delilah ignored that feeling, as she was so accustomed to doing. She did as she was instructed, leaning forward into the water. Damien’s calloused hands worked expertly through her hair, she could tell he was making special care to get the clumps of coagulated blood out. The water tinged with the reddish brown, Delilah watched as it swirled down the drain.

The warm water was a comfort, in addition to the scalp massage she was currently receiving; she was confident that if she had been a Primal she would be purring. Damien then moved to condition her thick mess of hair. He finished quickly, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead and proceeded to stand up, leaving her under the water to rinse. “Sec.” He said as his footsteps trailed away.

Delilah gave herself over to the cascading stream of water. The warmth flowed down her entire body, she angled her foot to block the drain; allowing the water to build up. She closed her eyes and shifted her body weight to lean against the wall. Her limbs felt heavy and stiff as if she was made of stone.

She wasn’t sure how long she had her eyes closed but her eyes opened when the squeaky shower knob was turned. She blinked a couple times, focusing her vision, looking up at the man standing before her. Delilah frowned slightly, he looked older, he wasn't the twenty-four year old boy with a chip on his shoulder she had met twenty years back.

“C’mon sleepyhead.” Damien said softly. He took her hand and helped her out of the tub. He pulled her into a hug, tightly wrapping her with a towel, and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Be more careful, okay?” he murmured into her wet hair. She could feel his facial hair against her skin. She stifled a laugh and leaned back. She took a step forward away from him and shook her head— water droplets sprayed Damien. She looked back in time to catch him rolling his eyes.

“This was a freak incident, Don’t stress about it old man” She took the towel gently from his hands and ruffled it through her hair. The lighthearted sound of Damien's laugh echoed off the bathroom walls. Delilah shivered, the cool air of the apartment in comparison with the hot water caused her skin to prickle. She pulled the silky black robe off of the hook and slipped it on, not bothering to tie it.

Damien stepped out of the bathroom heading towards the kitchen. Delilah padded after him leaving wet footprints in her wake. She slid into one of the comfortable bar stools, two cups of tea sat steeping on the counter. Delilah thought to herself that he must have been why he stepped away. As she settled in her seat he slid one of the cups of earl grey in front of her. She accepted it gratefully. The soothing hot liquid helped relax her muscles but she felt her stomach twist in protest, it wanted something different. While she could keep this tea down— it wasn't going to sustain her.

“Okay, you get one question.” She said, not looking up from swirling her tea with her spoon.

“So generous tonight” He mused as he lowered a spoonful of gooey honey into his own cup. The kitchen was quiet for a moment; besides the sound of his spoon making a light clinking sound against the cup as he stirred. He sat down on the stool beside her, studying her quietly for a second before settling on “Are you okay?”

Delilah couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in her chest and out of her mouth. The irony of the monster hunter asking the monster if she was okay wasn’t lost on her. “Oh c’mon Dame, I’m always okay.” She teased.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow “uh-huh…” But he didn’t push the topic further.

Delilah felt a pang of guilt tug at her. The memory of the brilliant yellow eyes and clawed hands of the Vodnik she fought tonight flashed through her head. He had gripped her neck so hard she was sure that her head would have exploded had she not been able to fend him off. She was lucky she managed to get a solid kick into his chest that had knocked him off balance, freeing her throat from his grasp. She'd only managed to crawl away towards her knife and just barely grabbed it in time to bury it into his skull.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, snapping her back into the moment. She flinched, Damien was gazing at her quietly his brow furrowed with worry. She shook her head, attempting to shake the memory away. She didn’t enjoy all the secrets she had to keep— deep down she wanted to be open; share her doubts and worries, but she knew that it wouldn’t help anything.

“Hey…” he said after stroking her back a few times gently “I’m feeling a bit tired, come join me?”

“Mhmm.” was all she replied with, setting her tea cup on the counter top and softly stepping after him. The hunger within her made itself known again, the tea had done nothing for her besides warm her body. She needed something to sustain her. She covered her mouth with her hand, focusing on shoving the thought of it away.

Damien chuckled in response. “Yeah… I guess I couldn’t have expected tea to be incredibly filling for you.” He climbed into the bed. Delilah sat beside him on the mattress and felt grateful for the soft sheets. She had remembered teasing him about it when he bought them. The corners of her lips turned up at the memory. She looked over to Damien to bring the topic back up, she opened her mouth to speak but he seemed to be lost in thought.

Delilah frowned, the look on his face seemed conflicted, she could guess what he was about to say. She opened her mouth to argue “You d-”

“Okay, alright alright, don’t… Don’t say anything about this” he said, sitting up suddenly. He didn’t look at her but he rubbed at the side of his neck that faced her. Delilah narrowed her eyes. She was always painfully aware of her friend's pulse. The way it quickened steadily in a fight, the way it rhythmically slowed when reading a good book. Right now his pulse was erratic, nervous.

“Dam- Listen I appreciate it b-”

“Delilah.”

“Yes…?”

Damien pulled the corner of his collar down and leaned his head slightly. She stared at his warm skin, the surface of it pulsing from the vein underneath. The hunger inside her made her jaw shiver with anticipation. Delilah glanced at his face for confirmation. He nodded so quickly and subtly that if she hadn’t been staring intently she would have missed it.

In a second she had firmly placed herself above him. Her legs on either side of his hips. She had one of her arms wrapped around his torso while the other kept his head positioned to the side. She needed him to be completely still so she didn’t accidentally puncture an artery. She became still as death. All of her focus was spent on making sure she took just enough to sate her, she stared intently at his neck. Watching his pulse quicken under his skin and her instinct took over.

Delilah heard Damien suck in air through his teeth as her fangs punctured his skin. There was an instant gush of delightfully warm blood in her mouth. She swallowed that mouthful gratefully, closing her eyes savoured his flavour. She always enjoyed the way Damien's blood tasted like whiskey and tea. Sweet, bitter, and metallic.

Damien wrapped his arms around her squeezing her waist gently trying to steady himself. Delilah could feel him exhale a breath that he was holding in. She was glad how still he was being, but she knew she had to be careful not to take too much or he'd start swaying from dizziness. She allowed his blood to fill her mouth once more and swallowed a second time. The velvety texture of his hot blood slid across her tongue and down her throat, she could feel a familiar power filling her as she drank.

She let his blood fill her mouth one last time, small moan of appreciation escaped her mouth before she swallowed and detached herself from his neck. Little droplets of blood began to form where her fangs had pierced. She ran her tongue over the puncture marks in an attempt to quell the bleeding. Delilah felt him shivering in response. She smiled and released her grip on his head but continued her straddle. She held his head between her hands and studied his face for any distress or regret. He smiled at her groggily, his eyelids heavy.

“Feel better?” he whispered, leaning towards her face, staring at her in return.

“Thank you.” Was all she responded with, she leaned forward and planted an appreciative kiss on his forehead. The hunger in her core would never truly go away, as this was her curse. However at this moment it seemed to have been hushed.

She didn’t want to move first. There were very few people in her life that she trusted to be this close with physically. Her relationship with Damien felt rare, it was intimate but not romantic. It’s not that they had never attempted to date, they had, but they both realized quickly it wouldn't work. Delilah remembered the night she laughed about it with him over drinks as they ended their relationship. They'd agreed to remain friends, the bond between them was too strong to throw away over that.

Tonight, though, his arms around her waist felt secure, comforting, uncomplicated. He shifted his weight to lean back onto his pillows— Delilah, not releasing her grip around his neck, followed after. He groaned at the change in position. She rolled off of him apologetically. “Sorry old man” she mumbled.

“You’re older than me, Delilah.” he said, eyes closed but a smile in his tone. He pulled her closer so she could rest her head on his chest. Delilah wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her robe before burying her face in his chest. The soft t-shirt fabric felt delightful on her face.

“Yeah but I like how it annoys you when I call you that.” She slurred. The high of drinking blood heavy in her chest.

He let out a singular “Ha.” in response. Rubbing her shoulder, closing his eyes again and settling into a comfortable position. He let out a deep sigh.

Anyways.