#maxxy

You find yourself scanning every shadowy corner, peering through the windows on the businesses you pass, hoping to spot whatever it is that has your blood pounding loudly in your ears. 

Do I want to know? 

You catch yourself from stumbling at the thought, your imagination conjuring images of a dark, evil figure lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike. You shake it off, scolding yourself for letting the fear get the better of you. 

Your home is visible now, just at the top of the hill and the relief is mounting, counting down the steps until you can tuck yourself safely inside, and lock the world out. 

“Excuse me, Miss.” His voice is low and pleasant, but it sends you a good few inches into the air from the fright. “My deepest apologies, I did not mean to scare you.” Your heart is pounding, your hand pressed up against your chest in some unconscious attempt to steady it. You let out a slow breath before answering, laughing shakily as you gather your thoughts. 

“Oh my, forgive me-” You let out another loud sigh, “You gave me such a fright.” You smile up at him out of habit, taking in his handsome face and worried expression. 

“No no, please–accept my sincerest apology.” He bows slightly, his head low in deference and you wave it away. “I saw you from across the street, and I thought, I simply must introduce myself.” He smiles now, and it’s a little jarring, his teeth are perfectly straight and bright white. “I’m Max.” He holds his hand out and you take it without thought, watch him almost in a trance as he brings it up to press it to his lips. The kiss is cool, and it brings curiously vulgar thoughts to the forefront of your mind. He tilts his head, expectant. 

“Oh! Sorry yes, It’s nice to meet you Max-” You cannot help but watch his mouth as you introduce yourself. “I’ve not seen you in town before.” You leave it there and his smile widens, his eyes scanning all around taking in your surroundings. You don’t fail to notice the expensive cut of his suit, the fabric rich, decadent.

“I’m new in town you see, just arrived this morning.” He towers over you, broad of shoulder, slim through the hip. “I see you are unaccompanied, which shocks me.” He offers his arm and again, and you move to take it without much thought. “May I walk you home?” 

“Yes, of course.” You agree, and begin to lead the way, ignoring every warning young women seem to learn practically at the breast, calmly walking with him up the street towards your home. “Where did you come from?” Your attention turns to the feel of his arm in yours, solid and strong underneath his layers. 

“Oh, I come from all over, I'm somewhat of a roamer.” His smile is roguish and you get the impression he might be remembering another young lady on another street, in an altogether different part of the world. “How long has this been your home?” He guides you gently as you make your way up the hill. 

“I have lived here all my life.” 

“Do you like it here?” He doesn’t ask it unkindly, there’s a genuine curiosity there. 

“I like it fine enough, but I have always wanted to see other parts of the world. It's difficult though.” You sigh, he frowns in the corner of your eye. 

“How so?” 

“Well, it is difficult to travel unaccompanied–it also requires funds I currently do not possess.” You laugh a bit awkwardly, surprised with your own candor. 

“Oh-” He seemed taken aback for a moment and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, men usually don’t pay much attention to the struggles of women. “-yes of course. How ignorant of me.” He was frowning at his feet. 

“This is me.” You pulled him away from his thoughts, gesturing to your house. 

“This is lovely, you and your family must be very happy here.” He smiled warmly, guiding you up the steps to the large wrap around porch. 

“Yes well, we make do.” Your tight lipped smile wasn’t getting past him, his hand held yours for a moment, pulling your attention from your door to him.

“I don’t mean to overstep–are you well?” He held your hand in both of his now, a worried expression plastered on his handsome face. 

“Yes-I, I’m sorry, yes. I’m fine-” He watched you intently, studying and suddenly the words were spilling from your lips, unbidden. “-I’m just alone most of the time, my father works, or drinks, and my mother disappears to avoid the melancholy. My sister is wed and living her marital bliss across the city and I am sort of left to keep everything together.” The thoughts were always present, hiding in your throat, in the pit of your stomach, in the clenching of your jaw when the house was continuously empty. It was a welcome respite to be able to let go of them, for a moment at least. 

He hummed his acknowledgement, the worried frown in place. 

“That is unfortunate.” He was choosing his words carefully. “If you are partial, I would very much like to spend more time with you.” He kissed the back of your hand once more and a momentary madness took hold of you. 

“Would you like to come in?” His eyebrows raised and you hurried to clarify, “I could make you a cup of tea, maybe you could tell me about your travels?” He nodded graciously and a slow creeping smile overtook the frown as he walked up the stairs towards your now open door. His eyes flashed with something but it was gone just as quickly–no sign of danger as he crossed the threshold. 

“You’re too kind, I would love to.” You closed the door behind him. 

He seemed bigger once inside, somehow broader than before. His eyes were bright within the dim foyer, the honey brown of them alert and lively and lovely. You led him towards the sitting room with a shy smile, the thrill of having a gentleman caller in your home without a chaperone sending your heart a flutter. 

Maybe I’m too trusting.

The thought crossed your mind, taking up space until his smile shooed it away once more. 

“How do you take your tea? Or would you maybe prefer something stronger? I think there’s some brandy hidden away for visitors.” Your hands felt numb, the nerves of being alone with him catching up to you. 

“What would you prefer?” He made himself comfortable on the settee, and you noticed his choice with interest. 

“Well, the brandy is rather nice.”

“Brandy it is. Can I help with anything?” He made to get up and you hurriedly put your hands up to stall him. 

“Nonsense, one moment.” You walked away quickly, ignoring the pounding of your heart and soon you were standing in front of him once more, brandy glasses in hand. He took one from you graciously and once you were seated beside him, you took a generous gulp, wincing slightly at the burning in your throat. He swirled the drink in hand, bringing it to his nose, taking in the aroma and for a moment you felt like your father, just knocking it without savoring. 

“It smells wonderful-” He brought the glass to his lips and you did your best to pace yourself. 

“So, tell me about yourself.” You put the glass down and waited, enjoying the feeling of warmth spreading throughout your limbs already. 

“Oh no, I’d rather hear about you.” He placed his glass next to yours, leaning back with open arms facing you. “I’m very curious as to how no one has snatched you up just yet.” He said it with a friendly smile. “You must be of age to marry?” 

“Yes, I am no more wise than you are on the subject.” You reached for the glass once more, needing something in which to focus the nervous energy in your hands, which led you to take another obscene gulp. Half your glass already gone, what would he think of you?

“Have you had many would-be callers? I would have thought your father would be fighting them off with a bat.” He picked up his glass, swirling it as he spoke. 

“Not really, there was a young man who came calling, but he was indifferent as to which sister would take him, so he left empty-handed.” Your nerves calmed with the third gulp, so did the burning and now there was a pleasant, full body buzz flowing through your veins. 

“Well. The men here must be blind.” His eyes flashed again, something vulgar and exciting all at the same time. He put his glass back down, moving so he was sitting a little closer. “Your father would have trouble keeping me away.” He took the now empty glass from your hand and set it next to his rather full one. 

“Why’s that?” You watched him with baited breath. 

“Well, because I would be ruthless in my pursuit.” He moved closer still. “Would woo you tirelessly.” His hand came up, his thumb resting softly on the plush of your bottom lip. You sucked in a breath, acutely aware of the hot spike of arousal in your belly. 

“And–and if I were to deny you?” your voice was curiously breathless, such was the effect he had on you.

“Would you?” He moved closer, his eyes fixed on where his thumb rested on your lip, “Would you deny me?” He was so close, the tip of his aquiline nose nuzzling softly against your own. His lips so close it would only take a nudge to kiss him.

“No-” You knew you wouldn’t, this enigmatic man who’d appeared out of thin air, appeared out of some long forgotten dream, or perhaps a prayer. “I would not.” 

“May I kiss you?” He nudged your nose with his once more, the clean scent of him engulfing your senses. 

“Please-” You didn’t get the chance to finish the word before his lips pressed against yours with an ardor that burned through your whole body. His fingers curled around the nape of your neck, caressing the sensitive skin there while his tongue sought entrance to dance with yours. He pulled a whimper from somewhere in your throat before he pulled away, kissing your cheek, and then again, just below your ear.

You’d been kissed before, but never like this. 

He smiled, his gaze roving over your face greedily, no doubt taking in the lust blown expression shining back at him. 

You gulped. 

“I would decidedly not deny you Sir.” You let out a shaky laugh, feeling as the excitement and arousal flowed through you. Dampening your undergarments, hardening your nipples. 

“I thought not.” His thumb came up to brush against your lip once more, his eyes focused on your face so intently, it felt as though everything else had disappeared. 

“Take me to bed.” The words spilled out of your mouth unbidden, shocking even you and your stomach sank well into the floor when his eyebrows raised. “I-I’m sorry to be so vulgar-”

“Do not apologize to me, there is no sin in desire.” He stood, holding his hand out for you to stand before him. “There is no vulgarity in pleasure between two people, so long as both are willing.” He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, moving to your mouth once more to take the remaining coherent thoughts right out of your head. 

-

Up until today, your life had been, for the most part, predictable. There had been a basic formula to how your hours were spent, where you’d go, what you’d see, even who’d you speak to. You’d thought about it that very morning, the errands you’d have to run-what you’d wear. Whether you’d see your father intoxicated or not. 

Seeing a beautiful, naked man was not on the list of possibilities. For that gorgeous, naked man to have you practically mewling underneath him would never have crossed your mind, at least not that early in the day. 

The bed creaked with every thrust of his hips between your legs, his cock hard and heavy inside the wet clutch of your cunt. 

“Does that feel good?” He huffed out a laugh, his white teeth flashing as he moved a little harder. It was hard to articulate exactly how good it felt and he took your quiet moans as a challenge. “More? Is that what you want my darling?” his elbows came up to rest beside your ears, bracketing your head before he snapped his hips faster, smiling at the way your mouth opened in a silent scream. “There it is, that’s what you like huh?” His voice should have been breathless with the amount of exertion he was exhibiting–but every thrust knocked any coherent thought right out of your head. He shifted to one side, reaching down to slide his fingers around the pearl of your pleasure, thrusting you headlong into your climax. He slowed down, grinding slowly while you crested, no doubt making a mess of the sheets underneath you. 

“I could stay here for days.” He punctuated his words with a delicious swirl of his hips, burying his face into the crook of your neck while you caught your breath, your hands finding their way into his hair. 

“If it’s to be like this every single time–I’m inclined to let you.” You pulled his face up to kiss, needing to taste his mouth again. 

“Oh it definitely would.” He bit his lip, watching you as he spoke. 

“You’d ruin me for all others.” You ran your nails down the muscles of his back, feeling how they corded and bunched with each movement, the coolness of him perfectly complementing your almost feverish warmth. 

“I plan on it, plan on spoiling you rotten.” He kissed you quickly before pulling away and for a moment you thought he might spill his seed on your belly, but he made to move you.

“I would ask you–” Your tone made him pause, a frown on his face. “Beg of you, not to spill inside, I don’t wish to have any children.” It might have ruined the mood of the night, but a child would have ruined your entire life. His features relaxed, a soft smile blooming on his handsome face. 

“I cannot make children, I am sterile.” He pulled you up from your place, both of you kneeling on your bed, his tone sincere. “And even if I could, do you think I would just abandon you?” His hands caressed your back, moving down to hold onto your backside. It was so lovely to have intimacy like this, the loneliness of your days highlighted now in the comfort of his touch. 

“Well, to be quite honest I’m not sure what you’d do. I’ve only just met you–” You sighed, his mouth kissing a trail from your shoulder up to the sensitive skin of your neck, “-you should know, I don’t usually do this. I’m not in the habit of taking men into my bed so quickly.” Your fingers curled in the short locks of his hair. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, pretty.” His lips were still pleasantly cool, all of him was. “I just want to make you feel good.” His hands came up to cradle your jaw before he licked into your mouth, giving you the kind of kiss you’ve only dreamt about in the dark quiet hours. “Now turn around, I want to take you from behind.” he bit your lip, a tiny little nip that had you dripping and you turned to obey. 

His big palm pressed against your spine, pushing your top half down into the mattress before he grabbed your hips, pulling you to him a little rougher than you expected. It made you gasp and within a moment he sheathed himself in your tight heat. A hard thrust that knocked the air out of your lungs. 

“Your wet little cunt is dripping around me-” He sounded as wrecked as you felt, his words fueling the fire of your arousal, “-come up here.” He pulled you up, his arm wrapped around your middle to press you up against the solid wall of his chest, his chin instantly settling on your shoulder, lips pressed against your ear as he set a brutal pace. He sang the song of his pleasure directly into your ear, it flowed all around you, combining with the wet obscene sounds of your joining to push you further and further into a bigger, more intense climax. 

One of his hands moved down, slipping between the lips of your sex to pull you apart, the other sliding up to palm your breast. With a few perfect circles you screamed, digging your fingers into his arm as you clenched around him.

There was a sting. 

A sudden sharp pain at your neck that pulled you out of the haze of pleasure for a moment before it was replaced with something otherworldly. A direct current flowing through your fingers and toes, through your nipples, through the gates of heaven between your legs. 

It was enough to make you lightheaded. 

You blinked, finding yourself laying back on your bed with Max standing near the door, fixing his overcoat. 

How did you get dressed so fast? Why am I so exhausted?

You tried to call out to him, surprised to find your limbs heavy, your eyes fluttering closed. 

“Sleep now, my love.” You heard him speak, his voice sounding so far away. “Sleep, I will see you soon.” A cool, feather light kiss was pressed to your brow before the world went dark. 

-

Whether it was the sunlight streaming in through the lace curtains, or the nightmare, or possibly a combination of both that pulled you out from the depths of sleep, you’d never truly know.  A vision of something hunting, something tearing at flesh, a bone crushing bite flitting through your mind in those first few seconds upon waking making you shudder and turn towards the darker side of the room, avoiding the glaring light in your eyes.

What a horrible dream—wait, what happened again?

It had just been there but now it felt like mist, dissipating far too quickly for you to grab a hold of. 

It was gone.

A knock at your door had any remaining musings about it evaporating into nothing. 

“Yes? Come in-“ You croaked out the words before clearing your throat. 

Your mother waltzed in, already dressed for the day making you frown. She was fussing at her skirts, unbothered—or uncaring that you were still in bed, instead she spoke about a trip she and your father were taking, how the house would be your responsibility for the next few days and that she would see you when she got back. She didn’t wait to hear your thoughts or concerns, or to even ask if you were feeling well, she was gone as quickly as she’d appeared. Leaving you still in bed, studying the time on your pocket watch with confusion. 

Something seemed off, a long stretch highlighted the pleasant soreness between your thighs and then his face popped into the forefront of your thoughts. How could you have forgotten? 

The events of the night before were crystal clear, to a point. You’d been walking home, he’d introduced himself and things had gone well. You’d invited him back to your home—to your bed. Everything was replaying as though you were reliving the night itself, up until he’d pulled that second climax out of you, after that, things were blurred. 

No.

Not just blurred, not just hazy. That would imply there were memories to fog up, this was something else, something aggravating. 

You let out a frustrated groan, tossing in your bed to bury your face into your pillows. 

I wonder where he is now, wonder if I’ll ever see him again.

The jaded, realistic part of your brain said don’t count on it, and after all, why would he care to come back? You’d opened up your doors and your legs, gave him everything you had to offer and he’d left without so much as a fare thee well. At least, not one that you could remember.

Face the facts, you gave it up, and now he’s gone.

-

You were out of breath and not for the first time since waking that morning. Your heart raced as you stopped just outside the general store, needing a moment before starting your usual trek up the hill. The night was blessedly cool, a gentle breeze ruffling the sleeves and collar of your dress and it was only while you were distracted that he found you once more.

“Hello my sweet, I hoped to find you out and about, and so I have.” He smiled his bright white smile, reaching out to bring your hand to his mouth. 

“Max-“ you frowned at him, unable to hide the shock of actually seeing him again. “I—hello, I’m sorry I-“ you floundered, unsure what to say. He seemed taken aback by your response.

“My apologies, did you not wish to see me again?”

“No! It’s not that, no I’m very glad I just—well to be perfectly blunt I didn’t actually think I would.” You blurted the words out, throwing caution to the wind. He brought that out in you it seemed.

“Oh-“ his eyebrows raised into his hairline. “I see. You thought I’d seduced you and then left you to pursue other conquests.” His tone was light, but there was a hurt in it and it made you feel guilty.

“Forgive me, I misjudged you. I am very happy to see you again.” You gave him your biggest smile and he returned it, forgiven.

“No need.” He kissed your hand once more, pulling you to hold onto his arm. “May I accompany you home?” He gestured towards the hill.

“Yes, that would be very helpful, I am feeling a bit lightheaded today I’m afraid.” You laughed, lighthearted but he didn’t join.

“Are you well?” He matched your pace, pulling you slowly towards the house.

“Oh yes, nothing to worry about. Must have been that brandy yesterday. Doesn’t tend to agree with me.” You patted his arm and he dropped the subject.

“Aside from the brandy, how has your day been?” He smiled warmly, his stride slowing down to match yours.

“Well enough.” You sighed, “My mother and father have gone away for a few days, so I have been alone.” You tried to keep your voice neutral but his expression told you he wasn’t buying it. “It is the way things are.”

“Do they not worry about you?” His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion. “Do they not care?”

“I’d rather not know the answer to those questions.” You left the rest unsaid, he didn’t press the issue. “Let’s speak of happier things. How have you been settling in? Are you close by?”

“Yes, just down the lane, a street over. My house is nicely settled but my days are too busy to go out and meet my neighbours. Thankfully I’ve met you though.”

“It isn’t a very big place, there are people no doubt dying to meet you.” You thought about the debutants, the rich single ones who would have taken one look at Max, and gobbled him up. 

“Anyone in particular I should avoid?” He said it conspiratorially, leaning into you and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“No one too villainous.” You patted his arm as you reached the little walkway outside your house. “Come in, sit with me a while.”

“Of course, I’d love to, I need to hear all the local gossip.” 

-

You’d really only meant to invite him in for conversation this time. To have him sit with you in the dim light of your sitting room, listening to him speak about any and everything but somehow- you’d found yourself underneath him once more. 

Your face was pressed against your pillows, your hands like talons, gripping onto your sheets while he straddled your thighs. His hands were holding the globes of your backside open while his cock speared into you again and again. 

He kept your legs closed making his sex feel so much bigger, made it feel like he was splitting you open in the best way. 

You panted into the fabric, dampening it with your breath as he fucked into you—moving your body a fraction with every thrust, the friction of it against your nipples made you ache with arousal. 

“You’re so wet for me my sweet, so tight around my cock.” He spread you open lewdly and you knew he was staring at the place you were joined, no doubt watching himself disappear into your body. “You’re going to milk me dry—reach down and touch yourself, I want you to come before I do.“ he sped up, groaning when you clenched around him. 

You swallowed thickly as you reached down to obey him, shocked at how much arousal he's pulled out of you, feeling the soaked-through patch of the sheet on the back of your hand. 

It only takes a moment, your fingers slipping through your folds with a well practiced swirl and your body tightens up, the coil winding tighter and tighter and you feel him press his chest to your back, his breath in your ear and when the pleasure finally bursts like a firework—a sting.

Euphoria—a wet gush somewhere below you and a pained moan from you, or him, maybe both of you, it’s hard to tell.

You blink.

Or, you try to blink. 

Your eyelids are so heavy, it’s hard to open them but you finally do. Light is streaming in through the window, that cannot be?

Your brain feels slow, like molasses on a cold day, your limbs are so heavy and it takes what feels like hours before you can lift your arm to check the time. 

It is well past noon, and it doesn’t make sense. 

There’s a note on the table where your watch is and you stare at it for a moment, trying with all your might to read the words;

It was lovely to see you again my darling, I had a wonderful time. If you’re partial I would love to call on you again. I hope you slept well, you looked so peaceful when I left. See you soon.  Max

You put the note down and focused on gathering your strength, ignoring the ache in your body, and the fear in your gut.

-

You moved at a glacial pace, both physically and mentally and you ignored the deep-rooted fear in your belly, that you’d caught the coughing sickness. 

Does it start like this? Will I feel weaker and weaker until I cannot move? When does the coughing start? 

You shuddered and shook your head, afraid of the loops your mind was jumping through, trying with all your might to focus on the tasks at hand. Your room needed to be tidied, the linens on your bed had to be cleaned and so you went about stripping the bed. A few drops of something dried a dark brown had stained part of the sheet, your stomach sank further still when you realized it might be blood. 

Okay, just calm down. Everything will be fine, you are not sick.

You gathered the sheets, and your strength, and went about doing what needed to be done.

It took a long time, too long and instead of heading out to run your errands you decided to stay in. Make yourself something warm and hearty for dinner, make yourself a tonic. That would have to work right? 

The sun set as you finally settled in to sit by the fire for the evening, falling into your fathers chair with a groan. The doorbell rang though and you seriously debated not answering, your eyes shut tight, the internal battle raging between your health, and your manners.

“My sweet? Are you well? It’s Max-“ he spoke loudly and your heart raced, making the decision for you. 

“Yes! One moment Max!” You rose unsteadily, inching your way towards the door as quickly as you could with how you were feeling. His face lit up when you opened the door, it fell soon after though, seeing the strain of it plain on your face. 

“Oh–” He made his way past you into the foyer. “-Are you quite well?” He moved to help you over to the chair, kneeling before you once you were seated.

“No Max, I’m afraid I’m a bit under the weather.” You tried to keep your voice light, tried to avoid his penetrating gaze. “You shouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t want you to catch whatever it is.” You pulled the light blanket higher up on your shoulders.

“Oh I very much doubt I could catch anything you might have.” He took hold of your hand, kissing the back of it quickly before moving to sit in the chair opposite. “What are you feeling?” His brow was furrowed, the gears in his mind turning smoothly.

“I feel tired.” The words were a sigh, compounding the sentiment. “Just bone tired, almost as though I cannot catch my breath.” Your hand came up to rest on your chest as you spoke. “My thoughts are slow, every part of me feels like it’s been slowed down—including my wits I think.” You took a deep breath and let out a deep sigh. “Worst is I cannot contact my mother and father, I fear something may happen to me while they are away.” 

“I can stay with you for a few hours, but something tells me you’re going to be just fine.” He winked and you couldn’t help but smile at his optimism. “Do you need anything? I can make myself useful.”

A thought popped into your head then, a fear—the fear.

“Would you mind laying with me for a time? In my bed? Just laying and talking?” It felt almost pathetic to ask him, this young, vibrant, healthy man—spending his night with a young, possibly very sick woman. 

“Of course my darling, I would be happy to. Come, I will help you.”

-

To your credit, you’d both laid there in the soft candlelight for a long time, talking about all of the different places he’d been and all of the different places you wanted to visit. He made you laugh, made you forget about how horrid you felt; made you feel special and wanted and so it inevitably led to you both being naked in your bed. 

Your feelings of weakness were now replaced with a mounting pleasure. His mouth was a steady suck at your nipple, his tongue circling the sensitive tip mercilessly while his hand worked away between your spread legs. Two thick fingers pumping, a thumb gliding, his tongue–a gorgeous dance being led to the tune of your pleasure. 

His cock was flushed with blood, hard and heavy against your thigh and leaking his pearly arousal onto your skin. You couldn’t help but reach down and wrap your hand around it, collecting everything that leaked from the tip to give him a stroke; try to make him feel at least half as good as he was making you feel. 

He moaned onto your skin, his hips chasing the friction of your slick fist, quicker and quicker until he groaned deeply, spilling his passion onto your thigh. And then his eyes found yours, the whites of them gone–the whole of them blacker than night and terrifying and then you felt it. 

A prick. 

Strangely familiar. 

There was no time to dwell on any of it though because his fingers were still pumping, his thumb still swirling and the force of your climax was enough to make you scream, then the darkness came. 

-

Glimpses of light plagued you, much like the dreams. One moment you were being chased by some huge, unseen monster, skirts whipping behind you through the night, a bloody grin never far behind. Then you’d open your eyes and be tossing and turning, sweat soaked and feverish in your own bed. 

It felt like hours. 

Hours of running, hours of tormented sleep, hours of confusion and god knows what else. 

I’m dying.

The thought came to you during a precious moment of clarity and all it did was scare you. 

Your eyes opened again, the light had faded, was it night? How many hours, days had gone by?

“Max?” It felt like another dream, this one cruel because he was there, healthy and glowing and sitting by your side. 

“I’m here, my darling.” His voice cut through the delirium, his hand a cool respite from fire burning just underneath your skin.

“Max-” Your voice was a hoarse croak, “I-I think I’m dying.” Tears streamed down your face, leaning into his hand with the little strength you had left.

“Yes, you are my love, but you don’t have to.” He stroked your face, leaning close to press his lips to your feverish brow. “You have a choice.”

“I don’t understand-” Was this another dream?

“If I leave you now, you will be dead by morning.” His voice was steady, “But there is another way. I could make you like me and then we can be together forever.” 

You couldn’t die now, there was so much to do, so much to see, and Max–he could have been the great love of your life and it wasn’t fair. 

“Like you? Max, I don’t want to die.” The tears flowed faster, fear and despair running rampant. 

Why couldn’t I have met you years ago?

“You don’t have to, I can make you like me.” He lifted your hand in his, placing a soft kiss at your wrist. “Would you like that? Do you want to be with me forever? I cannot help until you say yes.” He wiped away the tears and waited.

“Yes Max, I want to be with you forever.” He smiled a sharp smile, and in a flash he was at your throat, his kiss had teeth and it made you whimper, made you close your eyes and fall limp in his arms. There was a moment when you thought you’d lost consciousness but then there was something in your mouth, a thick liquid crawling down your throat and into your bloodstream. It was a balm, something to soothe the ache and the pain but it turned to acid in a flash. The web of hurt spreading like a lightning strike and burning twice as hot. 

It was agony. 

You’d been burned once as a child, your mother had been ironing one of your fathers suits. The red hot iron had merely grazed your arm, but the pain lingered for days, caused you sleepless nights and tears to spare. 

Compared to this, that burn was a kiss. That burn was the soft caress of a lover, a cool scrap of silk against your skin. 

“Max, what is happening to me?” Your voice is a strangled cry, the linens under you felt like steel wool. He answers and he's so much closer than you expected him to be while you thrash blindly. 

“It is almost over my love, soon the pain will pass.” His hand found yours through the chaos of the pain, a lifeline in the middle of a deep, dark, ocean. 

-

It could have been minutes, or hours that passed. It could have been years, but eventually the storm abated, and with it went the pain. 

“Max?” Your fingers flew up to your mouth, pressing against your lips, shocked at the way your voice sounded. Still your voice, but somehow more. 

“Yes my love, I am here.” His voice sounded different too, so much clearer—everything sounded clear. Too clear, the sound of the floorboards creaking under his steps so much louder than you’d ever heard it. “You will adjust.” He crouched beside your place in the bed and your eyes widened when you took him in. It was as though he’d been hiding behind a paper screen before, the shape of him clear enough to distinguish him from another, but somehow vague. 

He was devastatingly handsome, his skin smooth as polished marble, his eyes every shade of honey brown at once. 

“What did you do to me?” You reached out to touch him and you noted the perfect skin of your hands, almost doll-like.

“What you asked,” he grasped your hand in his, placing a kiss on your palm. “I have made you like me. Come—get dressed and we will eat.”

His words were like a punch to the stomach, hunger spreading like a bruise throughout your body, the pain of it almost debilitating.

“I might faint of hunger Max, where will we eat?” You dressed as quickly as you could, ignoring the slight tremble in your hands.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something.” He helped you dress, pulling you from what you’d come to believe was your deathbed and out into the night but before you’d made it out the door, you caught your reflection and gasped.

It was you, that was to be sure but it wasn’t the You you’d come to expect to see. The woman in the mirror has your face, and your eyes, your hair—but she was different. Her skin was perfect. Her eyes sparkled, her teeth shone so white.

 It was mesmerizing.

“Is that me?” You watched the reflection, her beauty shifted, something predatory in the eyes.

“Yes my love, that is you.” He placed a kiss on your neck. “Come, before the sun rises.” He pulled you away from the mirror, and into hell.

-

“It’s overwhelming, I know, but you will adjust, as I did.” His voice is the anchor, a tether holding you from getting lost in the chaos. Has it always been this bad? This loud? Your feet carry you through the streets, with his hand guiding you along and the closer you get to the thick of it–to the crowd milling about the high street where the worst it is. 

“I know my love–” His arm slips around your waist, pressing you close. “-Just a little further, and I will find you what you need.” Your stomach roils, the hunger-the thirst rips a swathe through your being. 

“Why am I so hungry Max?” You stumble over a loose cobble but he steadies you, lifting you back onto your feet as though you were made of paper and it almost scares you how strong he is. 

“Because you have not eaten.” His words are casual, a seemingly simple answer for a seemingly simple question. It didn’t feel simple though, not with the way you could barely concentrate. Everything seemed to be amplified, the dial on the radio turned to an uncomfortable volume and there was no way to turn it down. Distorted voices, an incessant thumping so loud it made you blink to its beat. 

Worst of all, was the smell. 

The city smelled rotten. The cloyingly sweet smell of overly ripe fruit, the sour smell of unwashed bodies, the moldy smell of old bread, hard packed dirt filled with worms, but threaded through it was the rich smell of butter and fine wine–the green of summer grass. Underneath everything though was something else, something mouth-watering–something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

He led you towards the park, the vast, open, green space where you would have never gone unaccompanied, much less at night. It was hard to feel afraid with Max though, it was hard to feel anything but intense hunger. 

“That one there is a good candidate.” He gestures to a middle aged man. “He won’t be missed.” He watched you, an encouraging smile on his handsome face, you frowned in response. 

“I don’t understand–” You looked at the man again, he must have been in his late forties, maybe even early fifties. 

“You are hungry my love, eat.” He gestures again and your stomach sinks. “Oh come now, no need to be coy with me my darling, I can feel your hunger.” He smiles not unkindly at what must be a shocked expression. “If it makes you feel any better, he’s the worst sort of person. I can hear it in his mind, believe me, you will be doing this world a favour.” He kisses the back of your hand, soothing. 

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, Max.” Your hands tremble, “I cannot–” The man walks closer and the smell of him almost knocks you off your feet, the thumping is back and you’re horrified to realize it’s his blood. A thunderous sound pounding through his body and through your head, and before you realize what you’re doing, your feet are carrying you to him. 

It felt as though someone else was controlling you, something else entirely had taken over your senses, your limbs.

“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing.” The older man spots you then, his eyes light up with something altogether unwholesome, “What are you doing out this late, and all alone?” His eyes rake over your body in a way that would have scared you had you not been so focused on the sound his blood was making. 

“So… hungry…” You barely heard yourself over the sound of his heart, barely saw anything but the seemingly glowing network of veins in his skin, all of it a gorgeous lace pattern. 

“What’s that sugar-” He didn’t get to finish his question. Something in your body, something in your very being sprung out, a sudden, awful ache bloomed in your upper jaw before you bit into the salty flesh of his neck, piercing the brightest, thickest vein. 

Euphoria. 

Your body was curled around him, fingers digging into his arms, clutching him ever closer, your fingers so like the talons of some monstrous bird of prey.

He was silent as you took your fill, pull after pull of what tasted like the thickest, most delicious wine. 

“That’s enough my love, not too much.” Firm, strong hands managed to break your hold on the man much too soon. “You cannot drain him. I know, I know.” He soothed your pained expression, wiped at your mouth with his thumb, sticking it into his mouth with a sharp smile. “Believe me, it’s better to stay hungry than to kill outright. Could make you very sick. Come–let's go home.” He fussed at your clothes for a moment before dragging the man over to a bench. You glanced back at him as Max led you away, to anyone walking by, he was just some tired, old man—resting alone.

The walk back to his home was only slightly easier to handle, the sounds, the smells, the cloying press was almost tolerable now that your stomach was full. 

“Here we are, just here.” The house is much bigger than you’d anticipated, grand, but still tasteful. Years worth of ivy had already conquered most of the facade, giving it a cottage-like appeal and drawing your eye as he guided you inside. “The sun will be up soon, we must get into bed.” 

“Why?” Your eyes roamed throughout the space, noting the almost clinical cleanliness of the place. The rug under your feet, perfectly laid, cushions on the settee without a single sign of ever having been sat on. 

“Well, because the sun would kill us, my love.” He says it offhand, making your eyes widen at the back of his head. “We are impervious to almost everything, except that.” He opens a set of double doors at the top of the stairs and what greets you stops you in your tracks, eyes wide and full of terror. 

“Max, why is there a massive coffin in here?” You stand at the door, frozen in place. 

“Come now, there is nothing to be afraid of, it is where I sleep, where we will sleep–until I purchase you your own.” He smiles, his hands smoothing the worry on your face away with a welcome tenderness. “Believe me, once you get in, you will sleep just as soundly as you ever have in a regular bed, I promise you.” He pulls your gaze from the morbid thing to his own eyes, and in them you cannot help but find comfort, and honesty. 

“Promise?” You press yourself a little closer and he smiles, nodding before placing a cool kiss to your forehead.

“Of course, come–we haven't much time.” He places another quick kiss at your brow before starting to undress. You follow suit and once completely nude, he opens the box and lays in it, opening his arms to you. You hesitate for a second, but get in just the same, he closes the lid and plunges you both in complete, and utter darkness. 

 “That’s my good girl, are you comfortable?” There is just enough room to fit into one another's arms, even with your heightened senses–it is difficult to make out anything within the confined space. 

“Yes, there’s not much room, but I’m okay.” You scoot as close as you can, your face pressed into the crook of his neck. “Have you always slept here?” Your hand rests against his chest, just as his strokes at the skin of your back as best as he can. 

“Yes, since I was turned.” He moves his face, and finds your lips in the dark. “It’s nice to have you in here with me.” He kisses every inch of your face he can reach. Soft, chaste kisses that make you smile, until he deepens it. His tongue tastes sweet but you pull away before it can turn into anything more just yet. You smile when he chases your mouth. 

“Max-“ He finds your mouth again, cutting off your words and replacing them with a moan, “Max, tell me what you’ve done to me.” Your fingers thread through the short crop of his hair as he moves his kisses to your neck, to the base of your throat, and further still to the stiff peaks of your breasts. You bite your tongue as he takes on into his mouth, managing to distract you for a moment. 

He hums around a nipple, biting at it before soothing it with his tongue. You don’t know how, but you find your voice amid this assault.

“Max, tell me—oh-“ he manages to get you on your back within the small space, manages to squeeze himself between your legs and before he can distract you with his tongue again, you yank his hair back, silently relishing the deep groan he gifts you with. “Focus Max, I need you to answer my questions, I am at a loss and very confused.” You stroke the place where you yanked at his hair, “Please, Max, I need to know what you’ve done to me.” 

“I have made you into something else, something more. I have turned you into a vampire like me. Now we can be together forever.” He presses another kiss to your mouth, once again chaste. “You are neither dead, nor alive. You simply exist, as I do. You will need blood to sustain you, and a coffin at night to sleep in. You will never grow old, you will never get sick-“ he presses kisses to your neck between his words, “-you need never fear anything, and with me, you will never want for anything, ever again.”

“I am… not myself anymore?”

“You are more, you are better, you are at your full potential. You are mine, and I am yours. Neither of us ever need be alone again.” 

It was almost too much to bear, the change you now felt so keenly. His weight on top of you was nothing, the difference in your senses, the difference in your body, it was all almost too much and for a moment you thought you might drown in it.

“Peace, my love, be at peace.” He heard the sob crawl out of your throat, the emotion of it all getting the better of you. With an awkward shuffle you were in his arms again, weeping into the skin of his neck. “I know it is a big change, but I am here to guide you through it.” 

There were many and more questions you needed answered, but there would be more than enough time for that later. Eventually, the darkness of the space, the feel of him wrapped around you, the comfort in the steady sweep of his hands on your skin lulled you into just what he’d promised it would; warm, comfortable and dreamless sleep.