#unrequitive

meme.  /  accepting.  /  griselde.

       the pervading closeness of death  has become lacking.  jihad has died and died and died and never truly been dead  —  he is embittered by this tremendously ,  as the austere of life is unkind and there is rigidity when one lays it asunder still.  this is why he is not unnerved ,  here ,  the wonder of her closeness staining his senses as svelte fingers mean to suffocate in the cathartic way only she knows :  he has died before and will do it again.  ringed hand grips one wrist with uncharacteristic tenderness ,  charade of his anger lost in the countlessness of their unceasing encounters.  the other is plucking at her left hand ,  whose nails are pressing into his jugular with an intensity he does not exactly enjoy.  this touch ,  however ,  is honest in its urgency ,  clawing at her steel grasp with weak ,  shuddering breaths.  the slightness of her frame betrays her ;  if he doesn’t act ,  she will certainly win ,  but that is not so unpleasurable –  they have an eternity to spend in the juvenile pursuit of hollow success.

          destiny has chained you to me forever.  at that ,  maw curls faintly ,  a tilt of his chin in a means to extend near - collapsed airway.  destiny.  what a sickly word.  he wishes she would have let him die quietly ,  so as to spare him from the facade of his own eloquence.  in his upset ,  adonis has decided he does not want to lose and elects to kill her as a means of rebuttal.  her speech is followed by a gentle loosening ,  as if requesting a reply.  he authors stunted inhale ,  damask stain of bloodied teeth glistening ‘neath the warm lights of a destroyed living room.  for a moment ,  he considers being honest ,  but quickly decides against it.  they will remember this night ,  he feels ,  which means he must die callously to live callously later.  fingers fall from atop hers ,  running in an aimless grasp at the fur of a scarlet - blotched carpet.  where did he drop the knife ?  a minor turn of his head ,  one she allows for a briefness before dragging his blurring focus back ,  and he catches the glint of it a small distance away.  the world focuses again ,  if only infinitesimally ,  at the air that expands his lungs in small bouts of freedom.  in this clarity is where he makes his decision :  become barbaric ,  bludgeon and be content in the vileness of lucidity.  

       ❝   if i cut off your finger and hid it somewhere ,  do you think i’d wake up tomorrow and have it still be there ?  can i keep you as a trophy and let you rot ,  griselde ?  or would we lose that ,  too ?  ❞   goad is elicited through hoarse ,  grating tone  –  one meant to wound.  it hits its mark ,  evidently ,  as serpentine hold twists and tightens and he is again without breath.  his legs begin to writhe in the theatrical way that all bodies refuse death ,  fingers at her wrist tightening as a free hand moves to her forearm and he twists the arm to opposite ends with a brutal  snap !  that makes her shriek wondrously.  he is soothed by the sound ,  by the pliancy of this upset in power ,  gripping her at the neck and ramming her head into the wooden edge of his coffee - table ,  inverting their positions.  one palm suffocates ,  if only to subdue her ,  as the other reaches to grab his dagger.  blunt nails dig into the swan - like pallor of her flesh ,  a steady pool of crimson gathering below her scalp and matting her hair in mesmerizing urgency.  all blood is that way :  desperate to be known.  adonis understands ,  hears the language of sacrifice and learns to converse in a perverted bloodletting that pacifies the tremor of his psyche cyclically and with unparalleled rhythm.  griselde does not want to know it ,  he realizes ,  as she begins to struggle against him with the fervor of a rabid dog.  he bares his teeth in a starting show of excitement ,  ecstasy scrawled into the tide of calm that overcomes him at the descent of his blade to her ring finger.  

personally,  i do think countess misses who she was  !  but it doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to be that person again. she misses how it felt to be young, naive, and vulnerable. she misses how safe she felt with rudy  &  natacha,  and how they essentially whisked her away into this glamorous world where she could be in love ( with a woman and a man,  which was taboo at that time )  where she could be part of a world she always found herself fascinated by.  she’ll always be softened by the era.   however,  she’s very much happy with the person she’s become.  reinventing herself was the only way she could wake up in the morning without associating herself with the loss of rudy  &  natacha.   she dyed her hair a pale blonde color and separated herself from the light of rudy valentino’s love.  she was drawn by the darkness because it was all that could fill what emptiness she felt without the presence of her first great love in her life.   marrying james was the start of this dark path she took towards abandoning elizabeth and becoming the countess, hardened by her loss and coping through murders. 

being with james gave her stability and a platform to kill. marrying him  gave her luxuries and comfort, as well as an opportunity to explore the darkness she housed. she didn’t start killing people because she was a vampire – she started killing people because she fell into a downward spiral and kind of snapped…lmao.  if i’m correct,  she had her sadistic tendencies before she found out rudy was alive at that church.  being with rudy kindles a softness within her but being without him drives her to a very dark, dark place where she feeds off human suffering and actual humans. that’s why she was nonchalant when she first caught james march killing a man in their hotel.   * also killing people soon became a necessity though and that’s when countess became cleaner about it, i.e her strategic marriages to remain the sole owner of the cortez,  killing multiple husbands for their money,  feeding herself and building a convoluted torture chamber.    

do you hear yourself sometimes

               Groups form around the dining hall, soft huddles of conversation Jonathan watches from afar. Men and women drink their bloody rations from wine glasses; served by waiters that bob and weave through the throngs of people. A tower of champagne flutes occupies one end of the room, served alongside hor’d'oeuvres spreads for the select few humans in attendance. Sponsored bodies of great esteem come to plead their case for immortality, offering both resources and wealth for the chance to be frozen in endless hedonism. The NYVC like to believe these customs keep the Ekons of New York City under their control, upholding the masquerade through strict tradition. Lord Redgrave had thought as much of his Ascalon Club, but monsters will never truly bow to man’s laws. They maintain an illusion of authority, inspiring some to riot in truly methodical fashions. 

               The last three chosen progenies and their makers found dead in their hotel rooms, depriving the Council of the powerful connections they seek to forge. Jonathan had concluded Miss Lehmann to be the next victim, however she turned out to have earned the deadly affections of a completely random killer, and what appeared to be a trail went cold with the vampire’s death. 

               He only intended to rescue her, not involve the young heiress in his investigation. But she’s insisted on making herself the centerpiece of his plans. Bait for the bloodthirsty killer, what can go wrong? 

               Jonathan props out an arm for Griselde to take, resigning them both to mingle. It won’t be much of an investigation if all they do is stand in a corner. He stoops down to whisper at her ear, breath emitting no heat across her cheek. ❝ See that man in the Nehru jacket? That’s Laurent Le Gall, he’s the one who contacted me to investigate the deaths. He expressed interest in meeting you before tonight’s procedures. ❞ Said without any kind of mirth. The less vampires she encounters one-on-one tonight the safer he can keep her. 

                  ❝    don’t you want love ... a family  ?    someone to take care of you  ?    ❞