#vampire!august

‘Stop!’ she cried out, placing both hands over her ears as she started running again. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to focus on pure thoughts. ‘This— *huff* has to be— *huff huff* a nightmare!’ Suddenly, she tripped over a branch, tumbling and rolling until her weight betrayed her; head colliding with something cool and hard. Vision blurred and disoriented, she let out a pained groan as she weakly reached out, ‘Mmmmhhhff.’

Whimpering out, she felt something wet and warm trickling down the side of her face. Dragging her weight across the cool, dewy dirt and grass. ‘Please… please,’ she begged; placing her hands on the tombstone while struggling to pull herself to her feet. ‘Please just— leave me alone!’ she called out, her knees buckling as she stood up straight.

‘Hahah, and what’s the fun in that?!’

Heart ramming in her chest, her breathing had become shallow, the lump in her throat growing painful. ‘Who— why do you follow me?! Why can’t you just leave me alone?!’ she broke out in a hysterical sob, words inaudible. ‘Please! I have nothing to offer you— I can’t— I can’t…’

It grew quiet for a moment. Only the sound of the wind dancing through the trees and the dead leaves scraping against the ground filled the air. Suddenly, when safety seemed sure, she got wrapped up in a tight embrace. A cold hand covered her lips as she began squeal into the stranger’s flesh. The stranger grinned darkly as the woman flayed her arms and legs around.

‘Tag. I've got you now!’

He snickered, turning her around to get a good look at her. She was ravishing! Full puckered lips, gray eyes that made her tears resemble a rainy day. Her skin, soft and silky like raw honey. She was almost too pretty to eat. But he’d always been the type to play with his food.

Grabbing her jaw, his pointy nails gently stabbed at her flesh. She tried to let out a shriek but he placed his index finger against her full lips, ‘aht, Aht, — that’s not a smart idea sweet pea. He grinned, ‘Scream, and I’ll slit your throat ok? Give me a nod if you understand.’

The woman’s frightened eyes stared up into his bright blue irises that shone in the darkness, resembling that of the deepest depths of the ocean. She nodded hesitantly, never taking her eyes off of him.

‘Mmm, that’s a good girl. You are awfully pretty.’ He cooed, dragging his claw down the side of her face. ‘I would have hated to kill you before I've had my fun.’ he grinned; salivating at the thought of her being his personal blood bag.

‘Now, you’re going to do whatever I say… alright?’

The woman nodded again, a single tear falling down her face. She was freezing! It wouldn’t have been a shock if her tears turned into icicles at this point.

He brought her head towards him, gently sniffing at the open wound she’d created from her dance with the ground earlier. ‘Mmm,’ he hummed in delight. ‘So sweet,’he said, before licking up the blood that dripped down the side of her face.

She was stiff as a board, unable to move from the shock that coursed through her body. There was no way this was truly happening. No, no this had to be some kind of nightmare. Shutting her eyes tightly, whispering, ‘it’s just a dream, wake up Maria, it’s just a dream—‘

His thunderous laugh ripped through the air. ‘Are you sure about that princess? Seems real enough to me.’ He cooed in her ear as he pushed her thick hair behind her ear and ran his claw down her cheek, leaving behind a simple cut. She started to cry once again.

‘Awww, shhhh —don’t cry princess,’ he said as he wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumbs. ‘Everything will be over soon. And, if you behave, I might just let you go. All you have to do… is be a good girl.’

Maria swallowed her sticky spit and nodded once again, letting out a shaky sigh. She was willing to do anything if it meant for her to live.

‘Wh— what will you have me do?’

He smirked as his eyes flickered from her face to her breasts. ‘Well,’ with just a quick swipe of his finger, he tore the fabric of her shirt with his pointy nail. His eyes immediately landing on her silky brown skin, his fangs tingling at the thought of sinking them in that supple flesh.

‘Ah!’ she gasped, instantly wrapping her own arms around her body to conceal it. ‘Wh—‘ she backed up slowly until she tripped and fell back against a stone. ‘Oof!’ she whimpered, looking up at him. ‘H-here?! Now?’ she looked around as she quivered. ‘It’s cold! And we’re in a graveyard! Have you no respect for the dead?!’

‘Oh honey… haven’t your parents taught you not to assume?’ his smirk never faltered as he stood above her, glaring down at her like a hawk stalking its prey. ‘I am… the dead.’ His fangs seemed to appear out of nowhere! They were massive, frightening and white. Very distinguishable even with nights as dark as these. She stared up at him in fear as he reached down and lended her his hand.

‘Up…’ he commanded.

Maria swallowed her spit once again and placed her hand in his before he whisked her up to her feet in a fast motion. He pressed her against his chest, listening as her heart hadn’t ceased to keep its fast pace. ‘Why were you hiding that pretty body from me huh?’ he said, running his tongue over his fangs.

‘B-because I don’t know you! You’re a stranger! A monster!’

The stranger chuckled and backed her up against a tall tombstone. Her back was pressed flush against the coolness. ‘Alright,’ he placed his hand against the stone, ‘My name is August… there, am I still a stranger?’ He drug his pointy nail down the hill and the valley of her breasts, down her tummy until he rested it beneath her button to pop it.

‘I mean… no… I guess. B-but you’re still a monster!’ She bit back.

‘Oh really? Why… that’s not very nice.’ he chuckled, ‘You’re scared of me… aren’t you princess?’ he asked, popping the button to bring the zipper down. She jumped at the sudden flick before giving him a hesitant nod.

‘Good, you should be.’ he said before grabbing her wrist and swiftly turning her around and pinning her against the stone. ‘I’m not gonna hurt you… yet,’ he whispered softly in her ear. Something so sweet, like a lullaby. ‘Just—want a little taste,’ August added as he got down on his knees and pulled her jeans down to her ankles.

‘Wha—?!’ Her panties followed soon after.

‘What are you doing?! Stop!’ She tried to move but he grabbed her thighs and held it in a tight grip. ‘Aah!’ she yelped out at the sudden pain. His claws dug into her cool flesh. ‘I told you to be a good girl! Move again, and I will crush your femur!’

‘Ughh,’ she cried out in pain. ‘Please! Just let me go! I promise I won’t tell anyone!’

‘Well you may not make it out of here to tell anyone sweetheart. We might as well have a little fun huh?’

Maria’s bottom lip trembled before she sucked it between her teeth to keep from wailing like a wraith. But instead, she utter a sound.

‘Attagirl,’ he grinned as he released his grip on her skin, ‘Now… sit still,’ he said before inhaling the scent of her core. ‘Mmmm,’ he let out a guttural growl, stretching his neck and pressing the flattened tongue against her womanhood.

‘Ooh!’ Maria’s mouth fell open as a chill slid down her spine. She could feel her knees growing numb as his tongue assaulted her clit with a vengeance. If she were going to die, at least her last few moments would be of her experiencing a one in a lifetime moment. Fucking a monster.

August lifted her thigh as he flicked his tongue over her glorious abyss and her sensitive nub. ‘Mmmm,’ he hummed before pulling away for a second. ‘Fuuuuck, you’re delicious,’ he pressed a kiss on her inner thigh before he sank his teeth into her soft flesh.

‘AAAAAAH!’ she yelped out, startled by him biting into her. Maria looked down between her legs. ‘You said you weren’t going to hurt me!!!’ she whined out.

August licked at her punctured, swollen skin before placing a kiss on it, ‘Oh relax, baby girl. It’s just a love bite. You’ll be fine.’ He chuckled before his tongue was met with her pussy once again. Such a hungry lover he was.

‘Ooooh! Dear God! That feels sooo fucking good!’ Her head fell back as her fingers gripped at the tombstone. She subconsciously began to grind her hips against his face and reached behind her to grab a hand full of his thick dark hair. His face was just a seat for her at this point. And he didn’t mind it either.

A gasp ripped through her chest as her groin began to tighten as she grew closer to her orgasm. ‘Aaah! FUCK!’ She felt as if the world were crumbling beneath her feet.

August smiled softly as she came in his mouth unreluctantly. She was so warm on his tongue. He could stay here forever if she allowed it. Pulling away from her pussy, he bit into her other thigh. Hissing at the sudden pain, Maria gritted her teeth together and just bore it.

He bit her thighs, over and over again, as if trying to mark his territory. He stood up, peppering sweet kisses against her shoulder, and then her neck. ‘My, my— you are so delicious.’

Maria was lost in a world of pure bliss. The way he touched her, the way his cool lips danced across her now burning flesh— she felt like she was in heaven; or perhaps, hell.

‘How do you feel?’ August asked as his nose nuzzled comfortably behind her ear, in her braids.

‘Am I— am I dead?’ She whispered.

He chuckled darkly before grabbing her face once again as he leaned in for a kiss. ‘Not yet princess.’

Her now hooded, lust ridden eyes stared up at him as her lips parted gently, ready to embrace his frost bitten lips in a warm kiss. Once their lips met, it was as if she’d taken ecstasy. She never felt like this before on behalf of the lips of a man. Could it be the venom on this tongue?

The more her lips indulged on his taste, the more hooked she became. Plus, she kind of liked being able to taste herself on his tongue.

He broke the kiss and looked down at her with a twinkle in his eye. Hmm, he might need her after all. But he immediately pushed those thoughts to the side and walked over to a gravestone. August unzipped his pants and pushed them down along with his boxers.

Maria’s mouth fell open in shock and partly in fear when she saw that monster spring free from the prison of his pants. How was that thing going to fit inside of her?! She’s probably had sex only a handful of times in her life. It wasn’t at the top of her To-Do list either. So it was safe to say, she was scared.

‘Don’t be afraid princess. I promise I’ll be gentle,’ he gave her a devious smirk as he motioned his sharp claw towards himself. Her head fell forward, ashamed. Once in his grasp, he spun her around so her ass was facing him. August scooped her up effortlessly with a carnivorous grin on his face.

‘Whoa—‘ she gasped as she wrapped one arm around his neck for stability as he sat down on the destroyed grave.

August lowered her down on his dick. Thanks to the blood intake, he was standing at full attention and was ready to take advantage of this moment with her.

Maria hissed, digging her nails into his shoulder as the intrusive member basically split her in half. But the pain was blissful. He was filling her out the way she deserved, the way she needed.

‘Uhhh. Damn baby girl. You are so fucking tight.’ He lifted her thigh, hooking his arm beneath her knee and using his right knee to keep her leg up. He dug his sharp claws into her flesh. His other arm lay draped across her belly in a tight hold. This way, he was able to move her body up and down just the way he wanted.

The curvaceous woman threw her head back as he took full control of her body. And the way that he used her felt so good.

‘August! Please!’ she begged before she grit her teeth together, ‘Augh!! Fuck yes!’

‘That’s good baby? Damn, you take this dick so fucking well. Such a good girl for me!’ He let out an animalistic grunt, still bouncing her body but now adding in his own thrusts.

With the two frictions coming together to make one, Maria could feel her fragile human body begin to betray her. She breathed in short breaths, the cold air burning at her chest as she did so.

‘Ooh!’ With August’s fleeting movements, Maria thought she was seeing stars. The grip she had on the upright headstone was so tight, she split her nails.

August howled as his grip on her thigh grew a bit tighter. His nails finally pierced the skin and he drew a little bit of blood. But Maria was far too gone to even pay attention to the pain. August landed multiple slaps on her inner thigh as he reached between her thighs with his free hand and began to rub at her erected clit. He picked up his thrusts, ‘Fuuu—‘

Maria’s head fell forward, her mouth falling open in a big “O” as she watched his strong hand go to work on her clit. ‘Ohhh shit!’ Her bite ridden thighs began to shake as he handled her like a $2 whore.

‘Yeaaaah? You’re gonna cum aren’t you? I can feel it. I can feel you throbbing… that pretty pussy just begging for a release.’

‘Uh huuuuh!’ She whimpered out.

He thrusted harder, faster. Her cries grew louder as he abused her pussy with purpose. With the way she was wailing, someone would say this graveyard was haunted! ‘C’mon princess,’ he gritted his teeth, ‘Come on! Give it to me!’

Maria’s toes curled in her shoes as he plowed into her as if he were trying to explore new realms. She felt the numbness creep up her neck, and now she felt like she couldn’t breathe. This didn’t feel like a common orgasm. It felt euphoric but she felt as if he’d snatched her soul.

August let out a sinister laugh. ‘Oh you sweet thing. You don’t even know what to do with yourself!,’ he cooed teasingly before he grabbed her face. He opened his mouth to welcome her in another kiss. He allowed her tongue to slither between his teeth. And with just a gentle bite, he pierced the muscle.

She whined out in pain, squirming in his embrace as she bled into his mouth. Once he broke the kiss, she laid her head back lazily against him as he had his way with her. She’d lost a lot of blood now because of him. Her body felt completely numb and at this point, he was just using her like a doll. She couldn’t feel much anymore. All she could taste was iron, and hear his desperate grunts over the sounds of the night. Her eyes filled with tears as she knew what was to come of her.

‘Ugh. Fuck, you’d be the perfect mother for my children,’ he snarled out, his teeth clenched as he felt his member throb within her. ‘Sooo, fucking warm princess.’

Maria’s eyes grew wide as a tear slid down the side of her face. She couldn’t find the strength to speak! It was a miracle she was even alive! So she just laid limply on him.

His hand cupped at her bruised up thigh as he rammed his hips faster, coaxing and milking his own nut out of him, ‘Aaah. Fuuuck!’ His balls squeezed as he shoved his member deep inside of her, kissing at her warm cervix.

Used like a whore, Maria just laid there in his hold. Just waiting for her demise. She barely blinked as she felt it would be her last.

August let out a sigh before he laid her on top of the flat gravestone. He stood up, putting himself together. ‘Aww don’t play dead on me baby girl. You’ve proved to be a lot more useful than I thought.’ With the “warmth” of his embrace gone, she laid curled up on that cold stone shivering. She was mute.

‘You’re gonna be staying with me for awhile,’ he said before effortlessly scooping her up in his arms before he began to walk into the darkness of the night.

Her eyes were heavy… and she was growing cold by what had seemed to be the minute. ‘Sl—sleeep,’ she muttered out in pain.

“If you look at the Slavic region, vampire folklore runs rampant. One especially interesting specimen is the Pijavica. The Pijavica (translated “leech”, or “drinker”) was a rare species of vampire— traditionally male, and a powerfully strong, cold-blooded killer. The potential for conception is most commonly believed to be through the incest of the deceased with his mother during his life, though some believe that one can be created through the exceptionally malicious and evil acts of the deceased before his death. 

The birth of a Pijavica is attributed to many different causes, including suffering an “unnatural” or untimely death such as suicide, excommunication, improper burial rituals, or even simple causes such as an animal jumping or bird flying over either the corpse or the empty grave, being conceived on certain days, or being born with a caul, teeth, or tail.” 

I paused my typing, fingers leaving the keyboard in order to brush loose strands of hair from my face. Around me, the baristas of my favorite coffee shop were buzzing like worker bees in an old hive; they were gearing up for the lunch rush, and I realized I’d been here four hours already. 

This place had long been my go-to study zone. It was small; there was just enough hustle and bustle to keep me from descending too deep into the abyss of studying and yet, it had the respect of the patrons that a library does. The owner, Fred, made sure that conversations were kept in hushed tones, courteous to those of us who needed to work in noise instead of quiet. 

“If ya wanna be loud, go sit at a Starbucks!” He’d huff at those who didn’t heed his warning.

My eyes took in the familiar surroundings as I stretched. An oversized wood-burning fireplace filled the wall next to the vintage cash register; it was sandwiched between two built-in bookcases housing stories of all kinds that were meant to be read and enjoyed. The old stone clackling ran all the way up the wall, and a custom mantle made from an old oak tree that had fallen in Fred’s backyard sat delicately above the firebox. Yes, this shop was magical. It held a special place in my heart, and I’d visited so often that old Fred had deemed the table I sat at as “my table”. It was always kept reserved for me. 

I reached for my coffee without looking; my brain needed more caffeine. I’d spent months on this master thesis, and yet for some reason, the notion of vampires was such a struggle. I didn’t understand the fear of those who lived back then. The origins of bloodsuckers were chaotic, the “treatments” laughable and still, people were willing to kill their own offspring over such nonsensical superstitions. Cold drops of stale roast hit my lips in a harsh reminder that I’d finished my previous dose. I sighed heavily and dropped the cup to the wooden surface of my table. Eyes closed, I laced my fingers around my neck and drew my elbows together to stretch my spine. Coffee. I need more coffee.

“Having trouble?”

A man’s baritone, smooth as whiskey interrupted my thoughts. My body jolted at his leisurely tone, and I nearly tumbled off the chair as my eyes snapped open to view the intruder. Sitting across from me was anything but a man; I was in the presence of divine artistry, two breathtaking orbs of gray-washed sky centered below auburn curls that adorned his perfectly symmetrical face. A sharp nose pointed to his strong jaw, while an amused smirk tugged at the corner of lips that I’m certain could send even a nun to her bedroom for self-maintenance. He wore a crisp, pinstripe suit, the buttons of his dress shirt undone sinfully low, revealing a smattering of additional curls. 

My oversized turtleneck sweater and leggings suddenly felt subpar.

“The name’s Walker,” he mused further, gesturing a large hand toward the empty paper tumbler that was now lying on its side. “What were you drinking?”

“I--I um,” I fumbled with my words, embarrassed by my sudden inability to form a proper sentence. “I had a flat white? With two extra shots of espresso.”

The man named Walker had the cup in his hand and was out of his chair before I could blink; he was already ordering another coffee by the time I managed to process his intentions. I watched him hand the barista a bill I couldn’t see, but by the shocked expression on her face at the man’s declination of the change, it must have been a sizable amount. He sat down at the table again and stared at my chest unabashedly, making it clear he wasn’t just looking but imagining as well.

I should have been offended or felt objectified, but instead I felt drawn into his gaze.

“Having trouble?” He asked again, gesturing this time at my laptop.

“How long were you sitting there?” I blurted out, still too flummoxed to answer his question. Walker laughed and I swear, time stood still. Never in my life had I heard something so beautiful.

“Long enough.”

His reply was short and cryptic, a dismissal of my burgeoning curiosity. The barista chose that moment to bring two orders of coffee to the table, offering both of them to Walker by mistake. I took in her awestruck countenance, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that if my face matched hers I’d sink to the floor and die of shame. That notion shook me from my stupor and I was finally able to address his question.

“It’s my master thesis,” I explained, taking a sip of the scalding liquid he handed me. “I’m a History major, with an emphasis in mythology and folklore.”

I took another sip and tapped my phone, large numbers greeting me on the screen. Numbers that told me I was extremely late.

“Oh my god I have to go, I’m so sorry!” I apologized, scrambling to pack my things. In my haste I knocked my drink off the table. Resignation sunk in deep, submission to the knowledge of further humiliation at the impending spill. None came however, as Walker caught the drink in his hand before it crashed to the dark tiles.

“Thank you,” I murmured, gawking at him in bewilderment. Who was this man?

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, standing to help me collect the remainder of my books. “I’m interested in your thesis, could we perhaps discuss it over dinner? I don’t want to keep you from your next engagement.”

“I—” I stared at him, his face open and inviting. I’d been asked out before, but never this abruptly, and never by someone who looked and behaved like him. It sounded like an adventure…or a good story to tell on girls’ night at least.

“You know what, sure. Why not?”

I scribbled my number onto a napkin and slid it his way, grabbing the rest of my gear and heading toward the door. As I pushed against the hard metal, Walker’s large fingers caught my wrist, wrapping around it like ivy wraps around a lamppost. They were cool to the touch and yet somehow, my entire body immediately felt heated.

“We forgot first names,” he chuckled, “I’m August.”

I grinned sheepishly, pulling my arm from his surprisingly firm grip. The clank of the metal door handle resonated with the introduction I threw over my shoulder as I left the warmth of the shop and the handsome man behind.

“Amber.”

It took August a full week to call me. I felt like a fool; Did I leave on a poor note? Had I offended him somehow? Did he simply decide to change his fucking mind? I was kicking myself for saying yes; how could I have agreed to go on a date with a complete stranger? Now that I was no longer in his flustering presence, I began to see reason again. I knew nothing more than this man’s name, and the fact that he was more than likely rich. He could be a cold-blooded killer for all I knew, and I had every intention of telling him off.

I was in my apartment when he called. Still stuck on my thesis, I was currently unable to determine how best to explain the theory behind the sexual appeal of vampires. In my frustration, I hung upside down over the side of my bed, reading a book that discussed the many different works of literature revolving around vampirical romanticism and hoping the blood rushing to my brain would help me ascertain how to go about my explanation. The book was written by two authors who essentially argue the whole time, one of them convinced that the human fascination with vampires stems from the cannibalistic nature of bloodsucking or that it alluded to other bodily fluids such as semen, whereas the other stood firm in his belief that it held a much simpler cause; it was nothing more than the presence of oral fixation and sadism that caused the fantasy to plant its seed.

My phone vibrated but I ignored it, too engrossed in my book to be bothered with answering. I was so close… the answer was right there, it just continued to escape me. It wasn’t until my phone vibrated a second time to notify me of a voicemail that I put the pages down and picked up the electronic device.

The moment I heard August excusing his delay in calling to a work emergency, I immediately sat up and hit redial. There was something in his voice that made my heart quicken and my pulse race; it made the hair on my arms stand on end. I regretted sitting up so fast as it rang, the blood surrounding my brain draining quickly into the rest of my body. August answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Amber.”

“I—hi.”

I rolled my eyes then flinched in pain, congratulating myself sarcastically on how pathetic that response sounded with a slap of my palm to my forehead.

“Please, allow me to apologize again for waiting so long to call,” August insisted, seemingly unphased by my lack of vocabulary. “I still intend to take you to dinner, that is if you haven’t written me off completely.”

“No it’s fine, I totally get it,” I assured him. I had completely forgotten my earlier annoyance. He had explained it after all, and it could happen to anyone.

“Perfect. I’ll send a car tonight then, at seven. Wear something revealing please, I wasn’t able to see that pretty little neck of yours last time.”

My insides shook with an unexpected pang of shocked arousal at August’s request. The sexual confidence saturating his tone had me instantly reduced to nothing more than a deep desire for him to drag me to my knees by my hair. Why I wasn’t offended by the dominantly abrupt way this man spoke to me, I’ll never know. I put on the best flirty air I could manage in my stupor.

“I think I can manage that. Might have to charge you though.”

August laughed for the second time since I’d known him and I smiled, proud that I’d caused such a melodious sound to grace this earth.

“I like your spirit; you’re gonna be fun. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I—okay bye,” I managed to say before he hung up. I stared at my phone stupidly, as though I thought he was going to call again. Instead, the large clock face glared up at me like it always does, an ever present reminder that I live on a different plane of time than the rest of the world. I fell back on the bed, thinking about the man named August.

He likes my spirit? I hadn’t really shown him much, I’d been unable to do anything but stammer and trip over my words like a schoolgirl would when confronted by the cutest jock at school. What could he possibly see in me? The woman I truly was, the one I knew was underneath the bumbling idiot finally answered me. You’ve got three hours, Amber. Show him what you’re made of.

Resolve set in, and I bounced off the bed and walked toward my closet. For whatever reason, he’d chosen me, so I was going to let my confidence in that thought override all the self-doubt that was threatening to surface. I pulled my favorite dress from the hanger and set out to work. He wanted revealing? Then revealing is what he’d get, but I was going to do it my way.

The car was punctual, though I was less so. I scrambled to put diamond studs in my ears while being driven to some unknown location, my nerves making my hands shake. Once again, the notion that I could be driving to my death crept up my spine, but I brushed it off. Rich men send cars, it’s what they do. And I am an intelligent woman, I wouldn’t let myself be put in that situation.

Would I?

Touching the final stroke of Red Wine lipstick on my lips, I pulled my loose curls over my shoulder to expose my neck and put my things in my vintage black clutch, staring out the window at the ancient building that housed the most expensive club in town. I was suddenly grateful I’d chosen such a fancy dress. I fidgeted with the soft hem of the sleeve at my wrist, drawing it back and forth between my fingers while I waited for the driver to come to a stop.

I saw August there waiting, looking sharp as ever in another expensive three-piece suit, buttons undone just as low as the first time. This time however, I felt much better matched to his attire, and my confidence rose right next to my excitement. August came down the steps to open the door and I took his hand, hiking the burgundy velvet up to my thigh so that I could exit the car smoothly. The heavy fabric dropped to the ground the moment I freed it from my grasp, allowing August to study how I’d chosen to honor his request.

August drank in my covered form, taking in the way my dress hugged my curves and accentuated what it needed to. His eyes darkened as they lingered on the single large triangular section of bare skin that started at my shoulders and came to a point between my breasts, and I watched his tongue dart out of his mouth softly. He looked downright hungry. August stepped closer, fingertips grazing the flesh on my collarbone before he fastened his grip onto my nape and inhaled the hair at my temple deeply, pressing his lips to my ear.

“You are simply mouthwatering,” he growled, low and possessive. His hand released my neck and slid down to the small of my back, sending a shiver down my spine. My insides quivered at his touch, fragrant drops of dew pooling rapidly in the flimsy lace that guarded my mound from potential intruders.

“You wanted to see my ‘pretty little neck’,” I teased his earlier arrogance, lifting my skirt to traverse the steps leading inside, “I thought I’d frame her for you, give her the spotlight.”

August cocked an eyebrow at me in amusement, sensing my challenge. His fingers dug into my hip a little harder than necessary as he guided me through the establishment with nothing more than a nod to the hostesses. Apparent jealousy marred the face of one, and I thought I saw a hint of worry on the other. We were gone before the emotion could register in my mind.

I was escorted to a private booth in the upstairs of the establishment. While the first floor was crowded and full of people, the second floor was empty; August had requested it for our use alone. I could hear the hum of nightlife below, the haunting, non-lyrical melody of a soft alto wafting over the balcony as we walked past, the whispered promise of an enchanting night. A few tables and chairs were strategically placed on the floor, hugged by back-to-back rounded booths on either wall. Light ethereal curtains hung on either side of them, offering privacy from the guests who would typically sit in the next box over. August led me to the corner booth nearest the balcony so that we could look upon the stage if we chose.

“Our table, milady,” he joked, leaving a wet kiss on the back of my hand. Though the charade was seemingly in jest, it could not have been farther from it. His piercing eyes never left mine and I gasped at the feel of his brazen tongue on my skin. The suggestion of what he could do with it hung thick in his gaze, lacing the air with the succulent first tendrils of decadent tension. Playing along, I took a sharp breath and curtsied. I stayed low as August stood to show him the appeal of my figure at this angle, tilting just my head to look up at him. He stood there, head held high like a king, and the smile I received at my display was downright sinful.

“What a treat you are,” he murmured, cupping my chin briefly. My breasts swelled as I stood, consenting August the claim to chivalry by way of settling me into the alcove. He swept my hair over my shoulder again, trailing a single finger down my neck in admiration before taking his own seat. My insides were nothing but a pile of kindling, and every touch he gave was a spark that threatened to ignite the dry leaves into a burning flame of need.

The courses came and went just like those moments, every phrase emphasized with physical intimacy of some kind, whether it be just a gossamer brush of his fingers on my ear or an intentional grasping of my hand. He went as far as to boldly stroke the back of his knuckle along my cleavage, making me dizzy with desire. Each touch was avaricious—like he owned me—and I had zero qualms about letting him.

We ate our fill, but August made no move to leave the comfort of our small corner. With the noise of people below dulled by the far reaches of our seclusion, it was easy to converse. I told him more about my master thesis and the Pijavica, how they could read minds and enjoyed the power of persuasion, how they were impervious to all but decapitation, and how only their offspring could kill them. He listened intently, sharing tales of his own career. It was how I discovered that he was a doctor.

“I don’t practice anymore though, I prefer to study and learn. Specifically, I’m attracted to tears.”

“Tears?” That struck me as odd; it wasn’t often you came across someone who had such a unique field of study. “Why tears?”

August swirled the whiskey in his glass and downed it abruptly. He subtly indicated to our attendant for another before continuing his explanation.

“I’ve always had a fascination for the small things, things that people don’t seem to think matter; the mind-body connection, you know? For example,” he brushed a thumb over my cheekbone, “Did you know that the cellular structure of tears looks different based on the type of tear?”

August cupped my neck with both of his hands, tilting my head this way and that, his calm features set in measured focus as he spoke.

“Basal, reflexive, emotional... they all look different.”

I closed my eyes, letting him caress my skin. August’s touch was intoxicating, addicting. Even his scent was an aphrodisiac to my senses. I couldn’t get enough of it, lured ever closer to his sturdy frame, letting him manipulate my body how he saw fit. He nuzzled my hair, his soft spoken words dripping with lust into my ear.

“In fact,” he went on, “Even among those categories they differ, dependent on the stimuli.”

I could feel his breath on my neck, his lips surrounding the pulsepoint in my veins as he spoke, my jaw his destination. A hand snuck under my skirt, skimming along my trembling skin toward the seeping treasure that awaited him at the end of his journey. I spread my legs willingly, inviting him into my deepest of secrets. August hummed as he went on, sending spirals of tingling vibrations through my chest.

“The sting of onions, the sadness of grief… the satisfaction of overwhelming pleasure.”

“August…” I breathed, but my voice was severed as August simultaneously laid claim to my mouth and my womb. Thick fingers penetrated me in the same moment as his probing tongue, and it was in that moment I knew I was lost; August Walker could pull everything from me and I wouldn’t care; I’d want it, need it. He had spent all night teasing me, testing me, manipulating me and filling me with nothing but a desire for more, leaving me empty and wanting. He had succeeded, I now craved him above all else in this world.

August lifted my skirts, hoisting me with little effort to straddle his lap and I cried out in shock. The sound of my sudden impalement on the thick steel of his manhood was camouflaged by the crowd of people below; no one heard the echo of carnal awakening that sang through the air. When had he undressed? I bit my lip as he sank deeper into my core until the salty bitterness of copper and iron stung my chin. August’s eyes fell to the red droplet, darkening until the only color left in his pale irises was the very absence of light. With a hideous growl he ravaged my mouth, tasting every inch of my bruised lips with the hunger of an animal that’s been caged for far too long.

Thrill and terror tangled themselves in my mind, weaving an intricate web of wanton desire inside of me as August took me right there in the booth. Time itself seemed to halt, the room disappeared. Were we still in the club? Was it still the dead of night? Did I still require oxygen to breathe? Or was my life source now August’s touch, the light in my very soul dependent upon his kiss?

I didn’t notice when we left, nor when we arrived at a house that overlooked the city. I didn’t notice the lock on the basement door, or the fresh garden in the yard. I didn’t notice the continual rising and setting of the sun. I didn’t notice when I grew hungry, nor when I grew tired. I didn’t notice, not anything but passion, need, and desperation.

I didn’t notice.

Sleep drained from my limbs slowly. I awoke to black silk caressing my skin, dim sunlight shining through the wall, diffused by a covering of clouds that hung in the sky. It confused me that it was coming through the entire wall, until I realized that said wall was simply one large window, and the room I found myself in was built into the rock of an obsidian cliff overlooking the city. The room was minimally decorated in dark tones that coordinated with the nature outside, save for a striking, golden painting of a woman crying on the far wall. I clearly wasn’t home, and last night’s events slowly returned to the forefront of my mind.

August.

August was, without a doubt, the most attentive lover I’d ever had. Memories of his lips, his scent, his god-like physique that was surely carved from marble entertained my thoughts, returning my mind to the pleasure I’d never experienced in my life. Chills ran up and down my skin, alighting in wonder as my hand drifted to my sex. My fingers found my petals, swollen from overuse, aching in the dull agony of satisfaction. I stroked them gently, soothing the pleasant tenderness, moaning softly as the blood rushed to swell my clit once more, my other hand slipping beneath the silk to join in the heavenly edging torment.

A sharp, sudden sting at the brush of my inner thigh caused me to cry out, my hands snatching away from their play. I sat up, peering beneath the sheets to discover a semi-circle of divots cut into my leg. Is that a… a bite mark? I pulled at the skin and felt the dried blood crack, a small pinprick of new red seeping through the scab. I lunged from the bed to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the corner and look for other signs or markings, but what I found made me gasp.

Bruises peppered my neck, chest, hips and thighs. A few other crescents were scattered amongst them, standing out against the dark patches that shaded my skin. I took a physical inventory then, feeling the soreness in my jaw from being stretched by his cock, the ache of my neck from having my hair pulled, the shaky feeling of muscular fatigue in my legs from being tensed by orgasm after orgasm. I thought I detected a slight sheen on my skin, but I couldn’t tell if that was from the tremulous bliss of a satisfying fuck, or if it was the sweat and oil caused by said satisfying fuck. Either way, I looked happy and content. I grabbed August’s dress shirt from the floor and threw it on as I left the room to explore.

The bedroom led to a hallway, the wall to my left still nothing but expansive glass that showed off the impressive view. On the other side were large, black and white abstract prints, hung evenly spaced against dark panels. To the left of each was a shadow box with an ornate glass vial inside; each bottle was thin, no longer than my palm and differing in design from the others. Tiny, intricate patterns were painted on the outsides in white, blue, and gold, and gold stoppers sealed each one. When I entered the main room, I discovered a curio cabinet that housed at least a hundred of them, and I leaned in to look at how varied each one was.

“Victorian tear catchers,” August’s voice was suddenly behind me and I whirled sharply, startled. He chuckled at my alarm and I laughed with him, enjoying that glorious sound.

“They’re beautiful,” I murmured, turning back to look at the delicate glass. August pulled me against his naked chest, nosing my hair and kissing my neck.

“Yes you are,” he whispered, earning an eye roll from me. August chuckled and opened the cabinet.

“Would you like one?”

“Really?”

I looked at him, stunned. He simply nodded his head in the direction of the vials and I examined them, selecting one that had a white pattern on it that looked like lace.

“Mmm, a good choice. Perhaps I can collect tears of ecstasy for you,” August whispered. The thrill of what he was implying awakened my senses, and I let him lead us slowly back toward the bedroom. I felt like teasing him, so I delayed a bit by asking about the art on the wall.

“What are those?” I pointed to the first print, a cross-hatching pattern that looked like it was made of sewing pins.

“Those are tears of grief,” he stated, stopping in front of each as he walked me gradually down the hall.

“A yawn,” he said of the next, a white background with dark, fern-looking splatters. August traced his mouth along my jaw, his hand dipping beneath the button of his shirt to play with the sensitive nipples he had rediscovered. I keened as he continued shifting us toward the kitchen, struggling to keep my composure. The next print was a much darker gray, and it looked like it was covered in snowflakes.

“Any guesses?” August asked, mouthing my earlobe in tandem with the flick of his thumbs over my hardened nubs. I whimpered, my knees weak in his lustful embrace.

“Uhm… cold air?” I rasped as he sucked on my neck. August chuckled through his nose, the vibrations of his voice rippling through my chest to connect with his teasing fingers.

“Onions.”

“Yeah okay.”

I tilted my head so that I could kiss him, but suddenly the thought of onions turned my stomach. I lurched, pulling away and gagging slightly. Instead of concern, August smiled knowingly, seemingly unbothered by my retching.

“I see morning sickness has set in. It’s a little early and I had hoped you’d be able to avoid it, but alas, that’s not the case.”

My head swam suddenly, confusion mutilating all thought. I backed away from him.

“Morning what? What are you talking about?”

August took a step toward me, placing a hand on my belly and lacing his fingers in the hair at my nape.

“Women always taste better after they’ve conceived. And I can keep them longer; they make much more blood when they’re host to a fetus.”

I pushed against him, turning away and vainly attempting to process his words. Pregnant? Taste better? Blood? My eyes focused on a card I hadn’t noticed earlier in the shadow box, a single word printed on it.

Bridgette

“Isn’t it ironic,” August mused, tracing my collarbone with a thick finger, “That five weeks ago, you had a chance encounter with the very thing you’ve been studying for months, and now you carry his child.”

The room spun. I couldn’t think; my brain refused to process the nonsense he spoke.

“Five—five weeks?! No that’s not possible, our date was last night!”

“It’s more than possible, sweet morsel. Think about it.”

Bile rose thick and acrid in my throat then, threatening to spill. Memories and time started filtering into my mind, replacing the fog with everything I’d lost. The last puzzle piece clicked into place, confusion all but disappeared and I was left with nothing but the cold, terrifying truth. Pijavica. Vampire. Monster.

I’d fallen into the clutches of a monster.

I did the only thing I could think of; I slapped him as hard as I could and took off through the house, ignoring the sharp pain of a chunk of hair remaining in his hand. My heart pounded in my chest, desperate to be free of this sudden nightmare. I slammed into the front door and grabbed the handle, a strangled sob catching in my throat when it wouldn’t open.

I rattled the door knob, panic consuming every fiber of my being. Suddenly, it wasn’t just my life I was fighting for; apparently there was a life inside of me that needed protecting. The child of a Pijavica that was depending on me to escape, so that he could come back and kill his father. I have to get out. I gave up on the door in anger, spinning around and looking for another way.

“Do you know why I chose you?”

I heard August’s voice again, but he was nowhere to be seen. His voice came louder, penetrating my mind. I have to keep moving.

“It was because of your name; they match your eyes.”

I whimpered at his words, sneaking my head around a corner to survey the living space for some form of an exit.

“Amber has a historical application, you see,” he went on, louder. I dashed over the floor, desperate to be gone from him. Door after door remained locked, and my terror grew with each attempt. Every now and then I could hear August, whether it be a rustle of fabric or the knock of his foot on the wooden floor. The scholar in me knew that it was on purpose, that he was luring his prey, giving chase to his food, and yet my rational mind refused to take charge. I was being led by my flight response, and his jarring monologue wasn’t helping.

“Throughout history, whenever a goddess cried it was typically tears of amber, save for the goddess Freya, who cried gold. You met her in the bedroom.”

His laughter echoed through the dark walls of his lair, and chilled me to my core. It was no longer a beautiful sound, but grating and horrible. I was nothing but a petty human to play with, some toy that he could eat when he tired of me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I came to the last door. Dear God, please let this one open. To my utter relief, the door swung wide and I was met with stairs. Stairs went down, and we were on a cliff. Down was good. Down meant freedom.

I clambered down the steps and flung open the door at the bottom, stumbling into the room and falling to the floor in horror and fear. There in front of me, was nothing but mirrors. A maze of mirrors, each one showing me my trembling features, mocking me, letting me know just how fucked I was. I turned back, intending to go back up the stairs and try another way, but August’s silhouette stood at the top, preventing me from going back into the house. I heard a scream and realized it was my own.

Scrambling off the floor, I took off into the maze, blinded by my tears.

“Each of those girls made it this far you know,” August taunted. I heard the slam of the door and nearly choked as I ran. “You’ll die in this room, just like they did.”

His nonchalance, his continual unconcern about chasing me, his arrogance that he would no doubt catch me made me so angry. I raced from path to path, growing ever more frantic every time I reached a dead end. I didn’t even know if this room had an exit, I just knew I had to keep moving. I tripped over something as I rounded a corner, screaming when I saw what it was.

“I see you found Bridgette,” August chuckled, and I looked up from the skeleton to see his hideous face marred with a sinful sneer. I gasped and took off again, turning this way and that. Hitting another dead end, I doubled back and ran smack into August’s broad torso. He caught me and held me close as I screamed, ripping his shirt from my body. He spun me around, pinning my wrists between my back and his belly, trailing his fingers languidly over my naked frame in an inspection of his handiwork. My jaw was gripped in an iron vice and August forced my gaze to the mirror.

“Do you see what I see?” he mocked. I could only stare in horror, for nothing but my own terrified expression stared back at me.

August had no reflection.

“Out of all the patterns in the world, do you know which tears are my favorite?” August continued to torment. He inhaled my hair deeply, snaking his tongue along the length of my cheek, tasting the stains my tears had left in their wake.

“Fear.”

I heard August growl as I fought against him, his iron grasp caging me against his cool skin, more of the cursed moisture pooling in my eyes. Glassy drops fell, retracing a new path toward my chin but August just kissed them away, shoving me to the floor when my knees buckled of their own accord. He let go of my hands to fidget with his slacks, pulling me back toward him every time I tried to crawl away as a parent would to a petulant child. On the third attempt he snapped my knee, a scream tearing from my throat in my woeful submission to his desire.

Finally free of his clothes, August lifted my hips, lining his rigid cock up against my sweat-soaked folds. He dove into my treasure without care, forcing his way into the depths of my belly, stretching and tearing my walls until he was fully sheathed. Strong arms wrapped around me again, and I felt two sharp points prick the junction of my neck and shoulder. I cried out and thrashed in fierce protest, knowing that small pinch was just a warning of oncoming pain.

August’s teeth punctured my skin easily, shredding muscle and sinew until they hit bone. I howled in pain as I watched blood drip from the wound, a familiar crescent shape joining its brothers on my body. Searing heat shot through my neck with his first draw of thick plasma; the violent removal of blood causing an intense burn that I felt all the way down to my injured leg. August released my neck and I clapped a hand over the fresh wound.

I looked over my shoulder at him; his head was tilted down, mouth still full of my blood; the lack of a reflection behind him unsettling to my senses. August opened his wicked maw slowly, dark scarlet trickling from his lips onto the junction where my hips met his, run through by his sword. He looked up at me with a nasty grin, bloodstained fangs curdling my stomach. I closed my eyes and turned away as he swiped a hand through the mess. His fingers penetrated my core alongside his cock, deaf to my sobbing objections.

“You’d better open your eyes, pet… This needy little cunt is dripping, I’d hate for you to miss it.”

August emphasized his sick joke by grasping my hair, shoving my head to the floor, forcing me to look once more into the polished glass. My desperate wails for mercy were all that kept me grounded as I watched him thrust, my battered hole be stretched beyond capacity. Nothing but empty space plundered my core, crimson air bruising the very place within me that only just last night had been treated with such tenderness and care. Not last night. His slick fingers found my mouth and violated it effortlessly; no amount of pressure I could apply would break through his tough skin.

“God, you look so beautiful.”

August pulled me up and took to my neck with fervor, latching onto the broken sliver of skin like a leech. The more he drank, the weaker I became, until there was no resistance left within me. I could see the color drain from my bloody face, I could see black slowly creep into my vision, but I was powerless to stop it. August was in charge, he held my entire existence in his hands, and he intended to extinguish it. I closed my eyes again, accepting my fate.

I was going to die.

One of my favorite places to visit is a small outdoor cafe, very near the coffee shop where I met Amber. Mmmm. Amber. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of that tantalizing woman.

She lasted so much longer than all the others, you know. I was able to feed off of her nearly three full months as she hung there in my basement, until the last drop of her tantalizing nectar was finally extracted. She smelled of carraway and saffron, tasted of sweet mulled wine, and with the rich, heady, piquancy of her fertile womb seasoning each sinew, every inch of her opulent flesh begged to be consumed. I must admit, I should have dispatched of her sooner, but fascination overtook my curious mind as her own was consumed by insanity.

First it was freedom she asked for, and then death. Sometimes she would beg to speak to her mother one last time. But by the end, she only asked for one thing.

“Please,” she would whisper, “Please… Cover the mirrors. Just cover the mirrors.”

She asked so nicely, but how on earth could I hide such beauty? Her tears were just as rare, you see. They hold a beauty unmatched by any of the others that hang on my walls. I’ve never seen such a fear pattern like hers; it is more exquisite than the dawn of a misty spring day in the countryside, more beautiful than a woman at the height of euphoria. And they way they sparkled against her skin, lustrous tracks that wound down her temples and through her hair, glinting in the mirrors with each slow rotation of her inverted body... well, it was as if I was living among the stars. Adding her ashes to my garden was such a shame.

I sat at that little cafe, eyes closed, viewing the world through my enhanced scent. Each drop of bitter coffee, the pollen of a nearby bee, the oil in the bike chains of two clumsy humans as they rolled past; each note and fragrance alerting me to its owner. A familiar scent reached my nose and I turned my head sharply, focusing on it.

Carraway… Saffron.

I smiled softly, opening my eyes to greet the woman that now sat at my table. The honey irises that had intrigued me all those months ago met mine and I chuckled low.

“Amber.”

So detailed down to the tiny patterns in her beautiful hazel irises; were the eyes of his beloved, Mia.

The lightning from outside brightened up the room around them, revealing over more than a dozen portraits of Mia. Most of them consisted of her in the color yellow or pink.

Others were just her body parts. Her lips, her naked waist and hips, her naked back with her shoulders and untamed curls cascading down her back. His personal favorite, her fingers interlocking with his; differentiating the sizes of their palms.

‘My dear Mia. Oh you’d be disappointed with how I use my time.’ He chuckled aloud as he wiped his cheek with the back of his wrist, smearing paint against his cheekbone.

And then he found himself staring into the large lively eyes he’d created. Getting lost in them as if she were still physically here.

***

Only darkness everyday, ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone. This house just ain’t no home, anytime she goes away.

He walked as his nose flared; chin trembling as he held his deceased love in his arms tightly. Her blood stained his white blouse. What use to run and pump warmth and life into her, ran cold and endless. His hands, forearms and his cheeks were covered in it.

The scent of her used to bring him a joy like no other, and now, seeing her defiled like this. Knowing the reason why her precious soul was taken, it sickened him.

He walked until he stopped at the entrance of a village. Hesitantly, he looked down at her before looking back ahead of him. ‘Help! Someone help! Someone help please!’ He screamed, and begged. His eyes searched for anyone that could help; some folk came peeking out of their doors, but only a few had the guts to rush over towards the mysterious man. Drake dropped weakly to his knees, but he never let go of his love.

‘What’s happened?!’ One of the onlookers came running over, seemingly looking to help at first.

‘S-she’s been stabbed…’ Drake stuttered, still not able to make sense of what’s happening, he looked up at the stranger before him. He was a short, bald, heavy set older man; he had to be the leader around here.

He was startled by Drake’s bright red eyes and took a step back. “Devil!” The man cried frighteningly, his eyes wide as saucers, a sharp pain shot through the man's heart. He clutched his chest. Others started to murmur, the men in the town pushed their children and wives back into the house as they found pointed objects.

Drake sighed heavily, jaws clinched in agitation; he inhaled deeply trying his best to calm his rage. ‘Listen, I mean no harm, ok? My wife— they killed my wife. Burned down my home. Killed my stock and cattle. I just need… I need some help… just to clean my wife and get her buried…’

“Begawn demon!” One man shouted with a large pickaxe in his hands, another man stepped forward, a cold stare in his eyes.

“We’re good Christian you heathen, if that woman was with you, we’ll then she’s better off dead. Maybe God will forgive her.” The man shook his head, his fingers wrapped around his weapon tightly, these people were surely blinded by their belief in God to think they could take on someone of Drake’s nature. He couldn’t believe the words that just came from this imbecile’s crusty lips.

“Are you ‘too good Christian’ to help your own?! How dare you, hypocrites.” He hissed, bright crimson blood pooled at his eyes, and only a single tear fell down his pale skin. ‘She believed in your God!’ He exclaimed with so much venom behind the word, ‘The same God whose brought you nothing but pain, death, illness and sorrow! Yet, she still believed in him! Just like the rest of you! Was she not good?!’

The crowd grew quiet. Only the sounds of the night could be heard around he and the crowd that surrounded him defensively. Bullfrogs croaked, Crickets chirped and beetles flapped their heavy wings.

As soon as Drake felt he was about to lose hope and his cool, someone spoke up in the crowd, ‘And what do we get if we aid you?!’

He searched the crowd as a woman walked forward. She had black thick and curly hair, her skin was brown and rich like the Earth’s soil. She wore trousers and a slightly stretched out blouse. It appeared to be somewhat of an off duty knight. Her clothes weren’t as damaged and raggedy as everyone else’s.

‘I-‘ he pressed his lips together. ‘Whatever it is that you want. I have no use of any more of my riches… I don’t plan on living on without her.’ Drake looked down at Mia once more. He wasn’t sure how many more tears he could shed. But he wasn’t ready to stop either.

‘Hmph… you’d save me the time then… c’mon now then.’ The pretty woman turned on the toes of her boots and walked back through the crowd; shoving people out of the way. Get out my way! What you lookin’ at?!

Drake felt his slow beating heart stiffen almost in his chest. He was relieved that someone was willing to help. So he stood up to his feet, adjusting Mia in his arms.

***

Drake placed Mia’s lifeless body on the cot. He knew this was probably the last time he’d see her. So he stared at her for as long as he possibly could. He had to take in every feature, knowing that it would be his last

The woman folded her arms across her chest, her head falling to the side.

‘What happened?’

He sat there for a moment before blinking away and looking over at the woman behind him. He felt his chest twist, tears filled his eyes once again before he just let out a shuddered sigh. ‘The Church… found out my hide away. Th-they said she’d been followed. She’d come to see me in the morning. We’d spend the day together,’ he scoffed and swallowed his sticky saliva before continuing. ‘She was the only reason I ever became a morning person… I’d risk burning myself countless times just to be with her and th—‘ his voice was strained; drowned in own tears and despair.

And when Drake had enough strength to speak, darkness reflected in his words as if they looked into a mirror, ‘They took her. from. me!’

The woman watched in silence, studying the picture before her. ‘How long have you and her been—together?’ She asked.

‘A little over a year and a half… she was the reason why I never went back into hunting and killing,’ he looked back at her. His eyes were so sad and lifeless. It almost seem unreal, like sad painting. ‘Because of her, I cherished human life. I saw the potential in your lives. So I went without drinking human blood for that duration.’

Her eyebrows tugged into one, ‘If you weren’t drinking humans then what—‘

‘Animals… particularly moose. Boar. Sometimes bear— anything I could get my hands on really.’

‘M-my God…’ The woman was in disbelief! Could he have been that in love to completely risk his livelihood?

Everyone deserved to love, and perhaps if you are capable of loving, you’re capable of changing. She thought to herself.

‘And so they call…’ he scoffed, his head falling forward; shaking side to side.

‘I don’t think you’re the vampire they are after!’ Drake didn’t say anything, he didn’t much care. Instead, he just grabbed Mia’s hand and placed his cold lips against her cold flesh. He’d just hoped for a small sign of life from her. But he was disappointed once more when reality set in by the second.

The sound of her heeled boots quickly clicked across the wooden floor. ‘Look. I ain’t too keen with working with your kind,’ she said with a slight bitterness, ‘But if I were in your position… I’d do whatever it is that I needed to be done so that my partner gets the justice they deserve…’

Dracula looked up at her with wet eyes. He knew what her suggestion was.

‘That’s just me though…’ she threw up her hands In defense.

He stood to his feet slowly, his thick brows tugging into one,‘Are you suggesting—‘

‘THAT’S… just me now…’ she took a step closer to him, low enough for him to hear, ‘Do what you must. Besides, these folk could use some protectin’ roun’ here,’ She looked over at his wife for a second, ‘She shall be in tip top shape upon your return. And when you get back… we can perhaps discuss a partnership.’ She then stepped back and jerked her head towards the door. ‘Gone head nah. Before I change my mind!’

Dracula gave the woman a gentle nod before turning back to his love, ‘She’ll— she’ll take care of you— my love.’ He then placed his bloodied hand on top of hers.

His chin trembled as he stared at his wife’s corpse. Even in death, she was breathtaking.

‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry Mia. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.’ He sniffed, wiping his tears before letting out a shaky sigh, ‘I love you… And I’m gonna make this right.’

Dracula pushed her hair behind her ear. ‘Until we meet again my love…’

He looked back over at the woman, darkness clouding his eyes, ‘How far is the Church’s village?’

‘On horseback? About a day’s ride… the sun could be quite dangerous for someone like you.’

Drake pressed his lips together, knowing what he’d have to do to get there faster. ‘Indeed… I must leave,’ he walked towards the wooden door.

‘I never caught your name. I-I want to thank you.’

The woman placed her hands on her widened hips and a smirk curled on her lips, ‘No need to thank me,’ she said raising her hand in protest, ‘Make it back alive and I’ll tell you everything.’

***

A loud thunder clap shook him out of his own head. A smirk curled on his lips slowly, ‘I know… I’m goin’, I’m goin’… I just wanted to take the time to admire you for a bit longer…’

A soft low thunder rumbled, causing his apartment to shake a little.

‘I miss you too…’ he sighed softly.

Shortly after, he gathered his brushes and carried them to the sink and washed them carefully. Afterwards, he set them on a towel to dry.

Before leaving his “showcase” room, he took one more good look at her, ‘Good Night Mia. I love you.’ And he shut the door behind him.

***

Drake stood beneath the hot shower; allowing the water to beat down on his head and the rest of his messy body. He loved these kinds of nights. Since his body didn’t generate it’s own sweat or neither did he get funky, he’d somehow subconsciously yet— perhaps on purpose, smear himself up in paint so he could shower. It was the only thing that reminded him of her. The warmth of her pretty brown skin and how she’d hold him close.

Otherwise, he truly had no other excuse to be in the shower.

Lifting his head up, he ran his fingers through his hair; pushing it back out of his face. He then reached over for his washcloth, and liquid soap. Once he lathered it up, he rubbed those smooth suds into his skin and scrubbed off whatever paint that was left on his body.

Afterwards, he sat in the shower until the water ran cold. He got out and got dressed in something modest and simple. It was still raining outside, and he would’ve hated for his suits to have gotten wet.

He’d dressed in a cotton light gray long sleeved shirt. It had 3 buttons at the chest. He left only one open. Then, he pulled on some briefs and some dark denim jeans and some brown boots.

Drake dried his thick black hair with a towel and then blow dried it. His locks fell wavy and soft against his head.

Once he was done getting dressed, he grabbed his sketchbook, his wallet and keys. Then, he left.

This was the only time Dracula really enjoyed the outdoors in the daytime. The sky had to be dark with clouds and/or pouring down raining. He could smell and feel how refreshed Mother Earth felt when it did. As if the rain was cleansing everything around him.

He also found it funny when unprepared humans would just cover their heads with newspapers or their hands trying to get to cover. Such clumsy creatures.

Closing down his umbrella, he walked inside of a coffee shop. The smell of freshly brewed coffee made love to his senses and caused a slight drool to pool in his mouth.

Coffee was Dracula’s guilty pleasure. Human food was disgusting. Anything processed, would taste as if he were biting into the metal or plastic that kept them fresh. Or, he’d taste the hormones and the particles. If he had to eat human food just to blend in, he’d simply throw it up later. But coffee, he liked his Americano. No sugar. No cream. Just— beans and hot water.

The baristas shouted, desynchronized “Heeey!” “Drake!” “Yooo!”

They were all very happy to see him. After all, it had been quite some time since he’d been down here.

A toothy grin curled on his lips as he placed his wet umbrella up against his booth and placed his book down on the table. ‘Shannon, Luis, Jang. How are all of you?’ Then he walked up to the counter.

‘We’re holding up… we’ve missed ya down here. We were starting to think you moved away or sumn!’ Jang said with a slight smirk.

‘Yeah! Shannon was starting to get sad!’ Laughed Luis.

‘Hey!’ Shannon laughed and smacked Luis on the arm, ‘You’re gonna get enough of telling my business! How are you, D?’

Dracula had been coming to the local coffee shop for about 10 years now. Way before his friend’s arrival. The owners, Lee and Jennifer, had always been kind to him and welcoming. Introducing him to their own families and friends. Having him over for dinner some nights.

Until one night they’d suffered greatly when half of the shop burned down. Drake had heard about this terrible incident and had written them an anonymous check for $40K for repairs. Til this day, the couple hadn’t had a single clue who’d gifted them with something so life changing. And it were to stay that way.

‘I thought I asked you to call me Drake?’ He smirked, pulling out his wallet.

‘I know. But I think D fits you best,’ the woman giggled, ‘The Usual today?’

‘Mmhmm,’ he nodded before placing the $20 bill in her hand. ‘Could you bring it to my booth?’

‘Sure. Anything for my—‘ Shannon paused for a second, getting lost in those bright crimson eyes. Sure she had a crush before, but it had only gotten extreme. ‘Main. Man.’ And a slow smile curled on her lips.

Dracula returned the smile and nodded once, ‘Thank you, Shan.’ And he turned away to walk to his booth.

As soon as he sat down, he opened up his book full of sketches. Some pages were of flowers, mountains and rivers, oceans and the sky. But others were of people he’d come across in his life. But mostly, Mia.

Strangely enough though, he didn’t feel like drawing her today. Technically.

He’d quickly got started on a face. Allowing just his hand and mind to come together; not really thinking.

‘One Americano.’ Shannon said softly with a smile, placing the large mug down on the porcelain dessert plate. ‘Thank you, Shannon. It smells delightful.’ He smiled looking up at her.

‘Anytime.’ She sighed softly before pulling her eyes away to look at his sketch. ‘What ya workin’ on?’

Dracula looked back down at the large sheet of paper. In just a minute’s time he’d already drawn and detailed an eye and a nose. ‘Nothing special just— sketching.’

‘Nice! You’re really talented!’ Shannon jumped when the bell chimed over the door.

He instantly went stiff at her scent. ‘Misty! Hi, welcome back!’ Shannon greeted her with a smile, ‘I have to get back to work. Have fun.’ She said, placing her dainty hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Drake inhaled deeply, as her heart beat seem to thud louder and louder in his ears. The smell of flowers just kept tickling at his nose. It was intoxicating! He was drawing but he couldn’t focus! All that he could see embedded in his brain was her gorgeous smile, her big, thick curly hair, her hazel eyes.

This is probably the closest he’s ever been to drowning. All until,

‘Drake?’

‘Huh?’ He lifted his head quickly.

She was standing there with a sweet yet, puzzled look on her face. Oh she was to die for.

‘I didn’t know you came to this coffee shop!’

‘Misty! Hi! Oh, yeah—‘ he chuckled as his eyes roamed over her body once. The perfect frame. Voluptuous breasts, a tummy, wide hips and thick thighs. ‘I-I know the owners. Been coming here for a few years now.’

‘That’s cool! Hey, do you mind if I join you? I just have a few more minutes to kill before I have to head back to work.’

Of course I mind. You’re only the love of my life’s doppelgänger! I don’t even know what to say or do right now.

‘No, please!’ Lying bastard.

Misty sat down in front of him with a gentle smile on her lips. She watched him take a sip of his coffee first before he went back to sketching upon the white sheet. ‘You draw too? What are you working on?’ She asked before sipping out of her straw.

Drake swallowed his spit as he scribbled, ‘Just some random… portrait.’

‘Hmm! It’s pretty. You take commissions?’

‘Commissions?’ He asked a bit confused, ‘Like pay? No. I do this for fun.’

Misty smirked, adjusting herself in her seat before folding her arms on top of the wooden table, ‘So, if I asked you to do one for me… you’d do it?’

Dracula looked up at her, sizing her face before his eyes dropped to her neck, then her chest. Then, he looked back up into her eyes, ‘If you’d ask me…’

She just stared at him and he just stared at her. Misty finally looked away with a giggle, ‘I-I couldn’t ask that of you. Supplies are getting more and more expensive by the day and art takes time and patience. I couldn’t do that. I’d have to pay you—‘

‘I wouldn’t have it…’ he interrupted. ‘I have enough…’ he paused for a second, ‘I don’t mind.’

She raised a brow, sitting back into her seat. ‘You are stubborn… well at least let me take you out? What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?’ She asked with a smile.

He chuckled as he continued to sketch, ‘You’re asking a complete stranger out on a date? I could be a murderer.’

‘Yeah, you could be. But how would I know if I don’t try?’

You’re just like her… in so many ways.

Drake shook his head as his smirk remained on his face, ‘I work… I’m free after 7pm.’

‘Hmm.. alright. Well, do you have a phone? So I can plug my number in?’

A phone. Dracula was never the type to keep friends so he never thought getting a phone was a logical investment for him. ‘I don’t.’

‘No phone? In the 21st century? Well, I’d say you like to live your life on the edge! What if you were to ever be in danger?!’ She sounded concerned.

Danger? Ha, oh darling, I am the danger.

Drake chuckled and shrugged, ‘Then if it’s my time to go.. it’s my time to go. We didn’t—‘ he bit his tongue and stopped once again. He was getting way too comfortable. ‘I don’t need one.’

Misty took a sip of her ice coffee and shook her head, ‘Well, Mr. “I’m too righteous” for a phone. You should invest in one.’

‘Why?’

‘Cause how would I call you?’

Damn… she’s smooth.

Drake pressed his lips together. He swallowed his spit, feeling as if there was a UV light burning in the pit of his stomach. She had no idea of the chokehold she had on him at this moment. ‘I’ll think about it.’ He said before going back to his sketch.

‘Alright. Well, just,’ she stood up from her seat and picked up her drink, ‘Meet me back here tomorrow evening. 7:45pm.’

He looked up at her as a slow smile curled on his lips, ‘Sure.’

‘I gotta head back now. See you then.’ She said before walking towards the door.

‘Yeah,’ he said before she walked out of the door. ‘See ya.’

Turning back to his sketch before his, he hadn’t even realized he had already worked on her full lips.

‘Ah,’ He smacked at his teeth and leaned over to grab the neck of the wine bottle, ‘Just one more my love.’ Then he’d reached over and poured a few more ounces into her once again empty glass. ‘I’d wished you just move in with me already.’

The woman wanted to object, but instead she just laughed and looked over at him, ‘If I didn’t know better, Id be thinking you’re trying to get me drunk! And, if we moved in together, I don’t think I’d be able to keep my promise to myself.’

‘And what promise was that my love?’

‘To at least wait a month into our marriage before you put me to bed.’

‘Hmph. You do make it hard to wait.’

The couple chuckled before he looked up at her, ‘And Perhaps I am… or maybe I just enjoy your company that much.’ He placed the bottle back down on the glass table and sat back, ‘We are to spend the rest of eternity together after all.’ He smiled softly.

The woman scooped up her wine glass by the neck and look at the beautiful wedding ring that donned her hand. A hesitant smile curled on her lips before she took a sip of her wine once more.

Drake’s eyebrows pulled into one as he noticed her happy demeanor had faltered some. He sat up and scoot closer to her, ‘Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts my love?’ He took her hand carefully and placed a gentle kiss upon her diamond.

‘N-no. It’s just that … eternity is a long time. I want to experience life first before … immortality. I want to birth a son, or a daughter—‘

He sighed softly, closing his eyes before, ‘Mia—‘

‘Dracula…’ she said as she snapped her head towards him. ‘You are my husband… is it not your job to give me what my heart truly desires?’

‘Yes but—‘

‘But?’ Her sweet honey brown eyes stared into his.

He broke the eye contact before looking down at her mahogany hands. ‘What if—‘ he swallowed his spit and looked back up at her, ‘What if I can’t? What if all these years have finally caught up with me and I can’t provide you with what you want? What then, Mia?’

Mia placed her small warm palms on his cheeks and pulled him into a sweet kiss. She could taste small remnants of blood upon his lips but it didn’t bother her much. She’d gotten use to the taste in the past year and a half.

When she’d broken the kiss, she whispered against his lips, ‘I know we can. Plus, It is always fun… practicing.’ She giggled.

Drake chuckled as well, pressing his forehead against hers, ‘It is. Maybe we can start practicing tonight?’ He then rushed in another kiss, before pampering her face and neck with sweet pecks.

A tickled laugh bounced off the walls before they were smothered with his own mouth once again.

The two were barely out of their clothes when they heard someone call his name, “DRACULA! SURRENDER YOURSELF VILE CREATURE OF HELL!”

He looked over his shoulder as he hovered over his lover.

‘Who is that?!’ Mia said in worry.

Drake quickly and carefully pulled himself off of her and walked over to the window. Once he’d pulled the winter curtain to the side, there stood the whole nearby village with pitchforks and lit up torches in their hands.

‘Mia, stay here.’

‘What?! No, Drake— they’ll kill you!’

‘Mia!’ With his immortal speed, he grabbed her face, ‘Please… stay… here. They mustn’t know you’re here—‘

‘DRACULAAA! COME OUT, THE CHURCH ONLY WISHES TO SPEAK WITH YOU!’

‘Hide. Do not come out until I come to you myself do you understand?!’

Mia nodded quickly before she hurried off and searched for hiding places.

He walked towards the large door of his home, unlocked it and pulled it open. He was instantly greeted with the scent of burning oil. He could hear the racing of everyone’s heart. They feared him. All of them except the priest, who held that cursed book in his arm.

Shutting the door softly behind him, he then walked forward, ‘My I help you… priest?’

‘Hmm… indeed you can.’

Drake narrowed his eyes as he took in the individual. He donned dirty blonde hair, green eyes and had a lean, tall frame. He wore a black cloak with red trimmings around the wrists and around his neck he work a silver necklace with a large cross pendant.

‘I Am Priest Darius Obadiah. I preach at the local town’s church. And I specifically specialize in exorcisms and vampire hunting. Basically, I am a servant of God, here to rid the world of evil. Such as yourself. ‘

‘I do not know what you mean Priest. Perhaps you’ve stumbled across the wrong man.’

Priest Darius narrowed his eyes for a second and sighed before continuing, ‘I have received word on your whereabouts from the people of the church. These…’ the priest reached his arm out, gesturing towards the folk behind him, ‘People. But that isn’t the most interesting part…’

Drake’s brows pulled into one, his red eyes searching the crowd for anyone that he would have recognized. He paid no mind to the priest until he mentioned, ‘The townsfolk say you have a woman. I hear she’s the most beautiful thing this world has ever seen. Skin chocolatey and silky. Something you’d kill to dig your fangs into?’

His eyes darted back towards the priest and he clenched his jaw together, ‘I haven’t heard of such a woman… I am a mere farmer… I am alone.’

The Priest raised a brow before continuing, ‘I want to believe you son… but the darkness I feel exuding off of you is unmatched. Joseph, Phillip! Bring her to me please!’

Drake snapped his head over his shoulder as two large men carried her out by her arms. ‘DRAKE! Get off! Get off of me!’ And they tossed her to the ground before the priest.

‘MIA! DON’T YOU DARE HARM HER!’ His crimson eyes glowed brighter than the moon. His large fangs protruded from his gums.

‘Ah! There she is! Just as they have described to be too! And all we needed from you— was a little motivation.’ The Priest chuckled as he walked over to the young beautiful woman and grabbed her by her thick curls. ‘Up, up, up— there you go sweet heart.’

‘AUGH!’ Mia whimpered out.

‘Mia! I won’t let them hurt you my love!’

The priest gave some of the villagers a nod for them to start burning down his stock, and his home.

Drake was aware of what was occurring behind him but he kept his eyes fixated on the priest.

‘Look… I know you planned on living a quiet life. Settling down but you are an abomination. A demon sent from hell to plague this world your vileness. You have and only will put everyone you know in danger… so you can give yourself up now or I will simply break you.’

‘DRAKE! DON’T DO IT!’

Drake kept his eyes on the priest before he looked at his distressed wife. ‘Mia…’

The priest smacked his teeth, rolling his eyes, ‘Fine. Let’s see how you bend under pressure.’ And in record time, the priest pulled out a dagger and stabbed it through her back.

A gasp came from Mia’s lips as he snatched the blade right out of her.

‘MIAAAA!’ He rushed over to his dying lover, falling to his knees and pulled her up into his lap. ‘Mia! Baby, baby— it’s ok! It’s not that bad—It’s.‘ his breathing was shaky. He pulled her up so he could see the wound in her back and placed one hand there, and the other rested on her exit wound in her abdomen. ‘Come on baby! Stay with me!’

‘Such a shame… she was beautiful. What a waste.’ And the priest turned around and walked through the villagers.

‘Dr—… it’s-it’s okay.’ She muttered out, her eyes wet with her own tears. Mia placed her bloodied hands on his face, ‘it’s OK… let it… g-go.’

‘It’s OK baby. I’ve got you. Just… stay with me OK. Look at me!’

Mia gave him a pained smile as a thick tear fell down the side of her face. Her face finally relaxed. And her rhythmic heart had came to a stop.

‘No, no, no. Mia— Mia please! Stay with me please. MIA!’

He sobbed as he held her. A pain he’d never experienced before ripped through him and he just let out a painful wail. He pulled her up into his arms and just held her corpse close. Rocking as if he were putting a baby to sleep.

‘What about him, father?’ One of the villagers asked.

‘He is broken. Death is what he wants. His punishment for his presence shall to live without the one he loves for the rest of his days.’

‘And what if he comes for us?!’ Another villager asked in worry.

‘He will… and we shall be ready.’

In the back, his home was already engulfed in flames. His stock ran around rampant, burning and dying. But cared nothing about it. They’d taken away the one thing he loved in this world.

He sought revenge. And God and his disciples were to feel his everlasting wrath. For those who steered in his way— would meet their dreadful and untimely demise too.

***

Modern Day

The weather was treacherous today. It was almost enough to make Drake stay indoors. But he needed to finished his painting. He was almost done with it, so he bit the silver bullet and got himself together.

He wore a simple black slacks and a button down with a black wife beater beneath it. He then threw on a black blazer to complete the look. And on his way out the door, he grabbed his black umbrella and his sunglasses.

Drake inhaled deeply; taking in all of the scents around him. He could smell the moisture in the air. It was to rain soon, so he had to hurry back. The man was like a cat thrown in a tub! He hated getting wet against his will.

He then carefully pulled his AirPods out of his pocket and plugged them into his ears. Pulling out his iPod, he restarted his playlist and began on his journey.

Drake lived in the city. This way he never felt the need to invest in a car. As far as he knew, he wasn’t being hunted thus, so walking about was a bit more relieving. Plus, everything was nearby! Supermarket, Drugstore, Restaurants, Hospital (where he would stock up his special packets at). A perfect place go blend in.

‘Hi, Mister Drake!’ A little boy with bright ginger hair on a bike chirped out, stopping right in front of him.

He pressed his lips and stopped in his tracks, ‘Oliver, careful with that thing… you can hurt someone… or worse!’

‘What? This little ole thing? You are too big to be hurt by the likes of me.’ The young man said proudly.

‘That’s kind of you young man. Now if you’d excuse—‘

‘My mom keeps asking about you Mister Drake! When you gone call her?’

Drake raised a brow, his neck stiffening at the thought of his mother. She was a beautiful woman, pretty blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair, coke bottle shape. But he would only use her for one thing if not, the other. So he looked behind him and ahead of him before leveling down to Oliver’s height.

‘Look,’ he pulled his shades down to the top of his nose, revealing his bright crimson eyes. ‘Tell your mother to stop sending her son to speak regarding her. It’s inappropriate and unladylike. And if she’d like, I’m available everyday around 7:30. K?’

The young man’s lips were parted open, stuck in a trance almost until he nodded.

‘Good lad,’ he pushed his shades back over his orbs and stood up straight, ‘Now, run along now. Behave now, young Oliver. I will be watching you!’

***

As soon as he walked into the safety of the arts and crafts store, he brought down his umbrella and pushed his shades back over his head. Then, he picked up a hand basket.

Blinking a few times he allowed his sensitive orbs to take absorb the artificial light. He then inhaled deeply, this way he was able to find out everything about every person in the establishment. Most of the pheromones were the same usual scents, and some were different but not special enough for him to be pulled in. All except one.

‘Hmmm.’ He hummed softly before his attention was grasp by one of the workers.

‘Mr. Drake! How’s it going?’

He snapped his head towards the older woman before giving her a gentle smile, ‘Mrs. King. Hi, how are you? How was your holiday?’

‘It was delightful! Kids had a blast up there in the snow! But I didn’t get to see you before I left. No lie, I was a bit concerned. Are you doing alright?’

November 29th was the day that Mia had passed. And every year since her death he would prepare a memorial in her honor. That was also the last day Mrs. King worked before her vacation.

He nodded, pressing his lips together, ‘Just— had business to take care of. I’m fine, truly.’

‘Well, you know I am a phone call away. Oh! We restocked in your favorite Oil & Acrylics yesterday! Gone head have a blast!’ She grinned happily.

‘Oh goodie! I best be on my way!’ He grinned as he began to make his way towards the back of the store where there were all kinds of varieties of canvases, paints, and brushes. This was his safe haven. His personal Heaven.

Suddenly, that unusual yet, familiar scent danced around his nose once again. But it was a delightful scent. It made love to his senses and made whatever soul he had left in him, feel right at home.

So he just followed it, gaining closer and closer to the smell. To his surprise was a curly haired, cinnamon skinned woman admiring a large squeeze bottle of paint. She was curvaceous, and small in height. She had the same silhouette as his long lost love.

Or perhaps he was seeing things.

Drake quietly walked over and just stood there eyeing the different kinds of paint. A smooth, seductive song began to play in his ears. Causing his eyes to close slightly as he savored the sound.

Until he found himself singing out softly.

‘What’s your name, whose your daddy—‘

‘Whose your daddy,’ the girl adlibed, ‘He rich? Is he rich like mee?’

Drake blinked once and looked over at the woman who was still studying the paint and now humming the rest of the song.

‘You like The Zombies?’ He said with a smirk, his eyebrow raised and curiosity.

‘Not really,’ she said before dropping the blue paint in her hand basket and looked up at him. Her hair bounced and moved effortlessly. So lively and full! ‘Just that song in particularly.’ She giggled.

When their eyes met, Drake felt like he’d been kicked in the gut by a mule. She had her same beautiful, charming smile. Those same honeycomb eyes, and those lips… those full lips he use to just indulge on for no particular reason at all. Just because that’s the closest he got to tasting her. Hell, even her heart beat sounded the same.

He was still as if he was caught in Medusa’s glare.

‘Uh..’

Drake blinked out of his own head, ‘I’m… sorry. You just reminded me of someone.’ He turned his gaze away and started packing the colors he needed.

The girl smiled softly, her small dimples deepening in her cheeks, ‘I hope they were good memories.’ She gave him a gentle giggle.

He bit into his bottom lip and pressed his lips together. He was afraid to say anything else.

‘I’m… Misty… by the way.’

Drake looked down at his basket before looking back over at her with a gentle smile, ‘Drake.’

‘Drake?’

‘Mmmm.’ He hummed in agreement.

‘Like the rapper?’

‘Who?’ He raised a brow before looking over at the gorgeous woman.

‘You know? “You use to call me on your cell phone— late night when you neeed myyy love.” You know that guy?’ She said elbowing him gently.

Drake stared at her, confusion written on his face.

‘Oh dear… that was a very popular song.’ Misty giggled as she picked up another color.

‘Not popular enough, I suppose.’

The girl laughed and shook her head, ‘I guess not. So why do they call you Drake?’

‘It’s short for something…’ he paused, feeling like he was opening way too many doors.

‘OK… what is it then?’

‘I’d rather not tell. I don’t like my name.’

‘Alright, well— it’s been a pleasure “Call me on my cellphone,” man.’ she began to back up and wave her dainty fingers towards him. ‘I must get going. See ya around.’