#gwi fluff

“Gwi, isn’t it about time you got rid of the toy?” you know without looking at them that the official speaking is pointing at you. You’ve heard them mutter about him playing with his food before. And if you heard, he heard too.

“What toy?” the vampire asks, and you know that to them his voice is nothing but amused. But you don’t need his enhanced hearing to take precaution. When the backs of his fingers brush against your cheek, it must look to them like you’re motionless. You lean your body towards him just enough that he takes notice of your weight shifting on his lap. Just leaning into his touch isn’t enough. He’s a creature that deserves more respect than that. “Which one should I get rid of?”

If he only could look at both you and the subject before him, you know he would. Jealousy was never your strong suit. Even less so in the face of Gwi. Sometimes you’d get the feeling he doesn’t appreciate that. Other times you think he seems relieved. Either way, he was not for you, or any human, anyone, to own. You keep your eyes on him. The officials are predictable enough, all of them plotting, trying to figure out how to get their daughters involved, how to get closer to power. 

They sputter and back down as they always do. Trying their most to stay in Gwi’s good graces while crossing every boundary clearly set. It’s pathetic. And the vampire is as predictable as them, so you don’t flinch at all when the gentle caress turns into a death grip on your jaw while his fangs bury into the flesh of your neck.

They run away. Of course they do after the vampire’s mocking. They take it as a threat to their family, so you don’t blame them for closing their eyes and turning their back. It is a threat. Not a fully empty one either. But the officials and their petty palace drama and power struggle are irrelevant and definitely not the thing your mind wants to focus on as it grows fuzzy. Your body is getting weaker but you don’t panic. You hear your heart in your ears and it’s beating steadily.

“Your blood tastes so sweet,” his voice graces your ears, his bloodied lips gently pressing against your cheek not a second later, leaving a mark, “I never tasted anything like it. Is it because you’re not scared of me?”

It’s not the first time Gwi wonders aloud about your blood. Perhaps that truly is the reason, maybe panic ruins the blood, just like when hunters try to catch their prey unaware. It wasn’t always like this, and you entertain the thought of your will and desire overrunning even your instincts and biology. Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth, so you can’t respond and he doesn’t force you to. Instead he guides your head to rest against his shoulder, allows your body to lean on his.

You feel a sense of guilt for being so weak. You wish he could feed from you all the time, drink your blood until he’s sated. He’s tried that in the past. He kept feeding from you day after day - as a desert, he’d claim - kept feeding from you right until you were on the verge of death. The doctors barely saved you. You never asked how did it happen that you were nursed back to health. Then again, did you need to? It was about that time that you started noticing that the officials despised you.

“Should I get rid of you?” he muses, and yet his arm is wrapped around you so tenderly it’d make you sleepy with comfort if it wasn’t for your desire to listen to him, “Should I set you free?”

You don’t think he’s playing with you, but then again Gwi is unpredictable at the best of times. Either way, it’s all the same to you. Your answer would always be the same.

“I’d worship you still,” you whisper, gathering your strength only to be shushed by the vampire holding you. There’s a smirk on his lips. Proud. But it softens. He knows. He knows. And maybe that’s why you get to be held by him.

“Worship is not a word many would use,” he sounds amused, and you enjoy how freely he converses with you. Not too long ago he’d be much more guarded. He’d snarl at you, make you feel like he’ll attack any moment. It’s a little surprising he allowed you to stay alive. You meet his eyes with a questioning look that he answers with a curious smile before he shakes his head. So you stay quiet.

He picks you up and carries you to the space he made for you, where your bed is hidden away from sight. You know once you wake up there will be a meal waiting for you to get your energy back. He lays you down and covers you with a blanket. He strokes your hair, reassuring you that you’re allowed to rest now. 

It’s so easy to accept when you’re so far away from reality.

Memories of your life so far come to you slowly. It feels like navigating a forest swarming with fog, but your last moments shine through. A sharp pain in your neck. Blood being drained from you, night after night. 

You remember the man. The vampire. His lips closing around the two puncture wounds in your neck.

It makes you want to cry, to scream.

It seems so natural that what you feel is not hatred or fear, but rather disappointment in yourself. You think you should feel scared - fear for your life. Then again in your current hazy state it’s all too easy to accept that even death is nothing but a natural consequence of your failing. Although you’re not sure what exactly was your shortcoming.

Soon you start hearing voices. You can only recognize the angry one, the one that sounds like a roaring of a wild beast. It’s the vampire - but to your surprise you’re not at the receiving end of his fury.

And it’s just as shocking, so much so that you’re half-sure it’s a mere hallucination, when he does speak to you. His voice is tender. Smooth like the water running down the walls of the cave. He touches you too, gently, his cold skin irritating your sensitive one. He feels like cold smooth stone, yet you want to lean closer and closer. Your body won’t listen.

The next time you come to, you hear the anger in his voice again. He’s closer - close. You feel his presence by your side. He’s demanding something - that you wake up? You’re not sure you’re hearing right, although maybe all these scenes are only happening in your imagination. Even so, you wonder who he’s speaking to. He should be reprimanding you.

There’s another voice, weak, but you know when someone is making excuses - you lost a lot of blood, you were kept weak for a long time, your diet is poor. The vampire doesn’t want to hear any of it. He wants you to wake up. You can’t.

Your life feels like a long spell of deja vu. The vampire’s confusing moods, his fury aimed indiscriminately at anyone who happens to enter, yet his tender touches and soothing voice belong only to you when there’s no one around.

When, after eternity, you open your eyes, you expect the tide to turn and for his anger to target you as his victim. Yet that doesn’t happen.

Your eyes blink open and adjust to the shade inside the cave. It only takes a minute before Gwi enters your field of vision. And the moment his eyes meet yours, he’s by your side.

“Slowly,” he instructs, helping you into a sitting position. It’s no issue to obey him. Your body feels like lead.

He helps hold up your body while forcing a cup of water to your lips. Drinking isn’t as easy as relying on him to help you sit up. You do it anyway, watching him watch you.

“What happened?” you wince at the hoarse sound of your voice. 

“You’re a human,” the vampire smirks, “Weak.”

There’s no humor in his voice, his shoulders are tense. You expect him to snap at you. He doesn’t.

“I heard your voice,” you mumble when he begins to turn away. He stops. “Thank you. It’d be boring to death without you.”

He sneers and turns back to you. “What did you hear?”

You try to remember, and frown settles on your face when you realize you don’t actually remember. “I don’t know anymore. But it made me feel safe.”

It’s dangerous - dangerous to be weak, to show vulnerability, but you feel like you just came back from the dead, so you speak freely.

“Foolish,” he spits while standing up quicker than your eyes can see. You fall back down, landing in the softness that is your pillow. You can only hear the sound of his clothes rustling as he moves. 

“Yes.” The answer is as natural as the slow trickle of blood down your throat where the blade broke the skin. The irrelevant offender stands still but his entire body tenses. You’ve gotten good at noticing the subtlest of reactions. Not an easy skill to develop, but a necessary one to live by the vampire’s side.

There’s noise again, like flies buzzing around your head, and once more you don’t listen to them. As if you were deaf to the voices of those who are not him. 

“Will you die for me?” his voice breaks through and it’s amused. Yet the answer is as natural as before. No decision or thinking needs to be made, you only need to obey. There's freedom in it - freedom in the blind trust you put in him.

Before you can lean into the blade held firmly at your neck, you’re yanked back, roughly, by your hair. You stay completely limp in his hold, recognizing the strength and sharp claws at your scalp. You keep your face relaxed through the pain. He always demands attention, and you give it willingly, looking up from where you now kneel at his feet. Gwi seems satisfied; you could not ask for a better compliment.

The conversation, the noise, doesn’t come as easily with the vampire so near. It’s quiet, as it should be before the king. The one who held the blade at your throat seems deathly pale. But their ruler is not even paying attention to them - his dark eyes are set on you, boring into your eyes like his fangs bury into your skin.

“Would you be reborn for me?” his voice drops lower but his hands don’t get rougher nor gentler.

“Yes.”

It really is that simple. You don’t understand what the other humans find so difficult to comprehend about it. You know they call it madness, but you’re perfectly sane. You need to be sane to serve him well.

“How would you live your eternal life?” he disregards the officials once more.

“In your servitude. Forever,” you can’t help the wistful smile from stretching your lips. His smirk is not as loving, yet you adore it.

“Forever is a long time, are you sure you can handle it?” he tightens his grip as he speaks. It hurts more than the bleeding cut. From the corner of your eye, you see the men grow nervous and more hateful. They’ve never seen Gwi hold back from blood - unless it was you. 

“If I lose my purpose, the last thing I will do is serve you nonetheless,” you speak calmly, with badly hidden pride in your voice. If there is one thing your king enjoys more than playing with humans, it’s slaying others of his kind. Cleansing the weak.

“Foolish fragile human,” the vampire speaks lowly, the corner of his lip raising so much it exposes one of his fangs. Despite the words he looks towards the officials as if challenging them.

They look away in shame.