Notes that bite s.jy
.âď¸ ÝËἍᥠCHAPTER 2
âşâ§âË ŕ˝ŕ˝˛ââąâŕ˝ŕž Ëââ§âşËËđ˘Ö´ Your father, a famed pianist to kings, once brought you to the palace while tutoring the young prince, Jake, a quite acquaintance. Years later, you're summoned to perform at his coronation, a bittersweet reunion. But when the ceremony begins, the prince is missing. Searching the castle, you stumble into his chambersâand find him transformed: bloodshot eyes, gleaming skin, fangs bared under the moonlight. He turns toward you, not with recognition, but hunger. You flee in terror, heart racing. Was that the princeâŚOr a monster??
Word count 2.4k
Taglist: Historical fiction AU, Prince!jake x Pianist!reader, half vampire!jake x human!reader, enemies to lovers, romance, eventual smut, fluff, angst, jealousy, characters with complex backgrounds, eventual smut, potential kidnapping.
The wide corridors opened to reveal a chamber steeped in velvet and shadow. Golden drapery hung like cascading fire from the high-set windows, catching what little torchlight dared pierce the gloom. At the center stood a long, vacant table, fit for a lineage of kings. Yet only one figure sat upon it: a cold prince, alone, awaiting your arrival.
The walk to your seat felt long and drawn out due to the quietness and how big the table had been itself.Â
âPlease. Sitâ Jake spoke, directing his hand to the chair. Already pulled out and ready for your arrival. You peered at his plate and it had been untouched. He waited for me, a polite thing to do.Â
âThank youâ You bowed politely and sat down. Jake had waited until you were situated to pick up his utensils and start eating. You did the same.
The silence bit at your thoughts like cold wind against bare skin. If a pin had fallen, it would have thundered louder than a thousand hooves upon the palace stone. Only the soft clatter of cutlery disturbed the hush.
At last, Jake exhaled and broke the quiet. âDid you find pleasure in the dayâs affairs?â he asked, still cutting into his meat, wine in hand. His speech startled you slightly but nevertheless you spoke.
âAh..Yes I did. I would like to see my father some time else.â You smiled awkwardly.
âThen it shall be doneâ. He replied. The atmosphere sunk back down into cold silence. Honestly you were replaying all those stubborn days of not dining. Despite not regretting it you felt embarrassed now seeing how silent it would be.
âThat lad that we spoke toâŚHe said you enjoyed paintingâ. He spoke
âI do.â
âMore than music?â At that phrase the two of you make eye contact in sync.Â
Art was something you felt a great connection to despite making music. However it is something that has not been vocalized. Piano was your image. It was your fathers image, making him proud was something you prioritized. Being the child to inherit the skills of a prodigy would sure be something to be known for. Art was something personal, and close. Something you let not escape the walls of your heart. Especially because it also holds another thing closer to you as well. Your mother.
âY/n..â Jake tilted his head slightly. You snapped out of your gaze and spoke in a frantic manner.
âRight, I like them both equally. However art isnât taking me to successâ. You cleared your throat.
âWhy is that?â Spoken with curiosity.
âI am being known for following in my fathers footsteps. Not making paintings. Art is something I keep close to my chest. Music is something I share with the world.â You had put on a facade of confidence.
âI understand I wonât pryâ.Â
You nodded, and returned to your meal. But as you struggled to cut your meat with decorum, your hand slipped. A quiet gasp escaped you as the blade caught your finger. A single drop of blood welled up and glistened crimson. You and Jake looked at each other in unison again and he offered a handkerchief.Â
âHereâ he spoke quietly. You took it and tilted your head in surprise.Â
âYou didnât reactâ. Questioning in curiosity.
âWhy would I?â His expression shifted slightly.
âWell arenât youâŚa beastâ. He looked at you again, expression much more vibrant and surprised.
âVampire. Vampire is the word. Half vampire to be exact". Jake took another sip of his wine.
âSo your mother must be...â Your voice got quieter but that didnât stop the curiosity from flowing in your mind.
âYes.â
âSo you eat regular food like this all the time?â
âI can survive on both, it's no problem.â
âThat must be why you can go out during the dayâ. Your voice spiked in eagerness to know more. The conversation started to pick up and you quite enjoyed it.
âWell how were you born? I had thought vampires were considered dead, like alive but a creature of the night. Do the servants know? How come I was oblivious to this- Do you have fan-âÂ
âEnough!â His voice was enough to shake the ground your feet walked on. The very air trembled, the table quivering beneath the weight of his anger. Your heart stopped for a second and it was as if he had compelled you to silence. Your breath caught in your chest.
You tried to quiet your breath as you looked down at the table. Jake himself couldnât learn to face you. Your body felt glued to the table but as you tried to clear your mind you remember, you werenât.Â
Your feet moved first, then your legs, then your torso. âMy apologies, will you excuse meâ You spoke almost in a whisper. You walked and made your way to the corridors as your feet picked up the pace. And there you left. Off to your bedding quarters.
Right he really is a heartless beastâŚVampire. You had to snap back into reality. This isnât a vacation, or an amusing trip. You were stuck here. Trapped in this vacant castle with no one to talk to other than the man who put you in here in the first place. In the back of your mind there was a part of you that really wants to believe that this isnât all that the prince is. Letting you visit your father, and trying to approach you with less rudeness had only been a bare minimum. He really is stuck up royalty. That thought started to make its way to the forefront of your mind until this.Â
He doesnât owe me any kindness and I don't either. You slouched on your bed, face stuffed in overfluffed pillows and here you are. Sulking about getting yelled at for prying. You did understand partially however.
Something in you wanted to figure out what was hiding underneath such tough skin. There had to be more. Another part inside you felt a warmth in your heart. Part curiosity and part unknown. You held your chest as you dosed off to slumber.
The next mourn had been silent. Eating your regular meal and heading to the bathing quarters as usual. Your mind lingered from last night while in the warm embrace of the water. You thought about what your next interaction would be like, what he would say, if he even would apologize. Deciding if a stubborn snarky remark would be suitable or genuine forgiveness. It was hard to choose since inside you, being unmoving and stubborn was a part of your personality. However you dare not to push the limits of his tolerance.
Once you had stepped from the water, you gathered your robes and returned to your chambers. A rack of garments awaited you, as it did each morn, with a selection made ready for your choosing. Not that you gave it much thoughtâyour fingers reached for the nearest ensemble, mind still clouded.
As you disrobed and began to don the first layers, the chamber door burst open without warning. Swift as instinct, you seized a nearby blanket to shield yourself.
âI am dressing!â you cried sharply, only to find Jake standing in the threshold, clad in his leisure garb. His gaze locked with yours for but a moment before he turned quickly and shut the door.
âAh apologiesâ. He spoke from across the door. You had not replied but simply finished dressing to continue the conversation. You opened the door to face him. Jake stood awkwardly ready to talk. As if heâs going over lines in his head.Â
âYes, what is it?â You brushed your gown down and locked eyes with him.Â
âY/n..I have come to apologize for the past day and I request you accompany meâ. You tilted your head in confusion.Â
âI see.â A beat passed. âI forgive you,â you said at last, though your tone betrayed no emotion.
âThough where is it that you want to take meâ.
âYouâll have to follow me to seeâ. You squint your eyes in reaction and despite being skeptical you followed.Â
You kept your pace slow enough to stay behind it despite the long walk making you anticipate this âsurpriseâ even more. Walking up the pairs of giant steps parallel to each other and yet through another corridor you sighed, uninterested creeping upon you.
âAre we there yet this is feeling like a jokeâ You slouched your arms and looked up at him.Â
âWell yet we areâ. He motioned his hand to the door in front of you that looked larger than any other door in the hallway. You quickly moved out of the way to let him open the door.
With a quiet creak, the heavy door gave way, and what lay beyond drew a breath from your lips.
A chamber grand and serene, filled with canvasâsome veiled, some bursting with color and life. Easels stood like sentinels of creation, draped in cloth, surrounded by errant hues that had found their way onto the stone floors and walls. You stepped fully within, eyes wide in wonder.
Lifting a fabric edge, you unveiled half-finished works, some vibrant, others faded with timeâs touch.
You turned to look at him. âWhat is this?â.
âItâs for you, I figured you might as well have something else to do in this castleâ. He inched closer. You looked around and scoffed.
âThis isâŚoutstandingâ. A big smile creeped onto your face.
âAnd you say you cherish both music and art equally.â Jake smirked. And in that sentence you roll your eyes and continue to look around.Â
âThe tools and paints are in that closetâ. He pointed to a long cabinet clad in white and gold architecture. Walking to it you opened the doors and you saw the shelves stalked with paints, oils, charcoal, and all sorts of tools and brushes. You grinned and thought about the possibilities of what you could create.
You turned to face him again. âThank youâŚJakeâ
âItâs my pleasure, Iâll leave you to it thenâ. He raised his eyebrow looking for a response and you nodded. You started looking around for an empty easel as he left the room.Â
There was a small stool in the corner of the room that you dragged to the easel with the empty canvas. You started at the options of paint and tools figuring out what paints and brushes to use. Picking a quick selection you brought it to the easel and then, you began to work.
You never really had to question what it was that you would create because it had always been in the back of your mind. Your mother. A deadly illness had swept her of all her life when you were still so young. You were all your father had now and you wanted to make him happy.Â
Your mother had been the one to teach you the art of painting and so you passed on the art with her. Youâve painted her ever since she passed in honor of what she taught you.
Quite a bit of hours have passed as you perfected the painting. Rich in life color. That's how you wanted her to be remembered. It was something you had never really talked about. The arts and your mother because they were close to your heart. As close as it can be. And you werenât obligated to share it with the world.Â
A creek at the door startled you as you have been in silence for hours. It was Jake, popping his head in the door frame before you fully stepped into the room.
âAh Iâm almost finished Iâll be out for supperâ. You spoke, adjusting your position to face him.
Jake took a long look at the canvas, observing the details you put into it. âWho is this, you look similarâ. You paused for a moment, you felt your mouth wanting to move before you could think but you didnât. Something in you felt safe to share the history of the painting. Like it didnât matter or that he wouldnât pry or judge.
âItâs my mother. She passed away when I was twelve of sicknessâŚI paint her all the time to make sure I never forget her face.â You looked down, in anticipation and nervousness of what he would say next.
âI see, is this why you never talk about painting?â He questioned.
âYes, she taught me how to do itâ. You slowly made eye contact with him. Jakeâs expression softened and thought a minute before speaking.
âMy condolences.â He grabbed the nearest stool to sit beside you before he continued.Â
âMy mother has too passed away. Only when I was four my father couldnât make peace with the vampires after my birth and so he had gotten mad and used my mother as a sacrifice. He concealed our secret and went on with upholding the kingdom.â Hearing this made your blood run cold. He was younger than you, to have your parents sacrifice your mother for the sake of Royal appearances. Your face grew melancholic and you tilted your head hoping he would acknowledge the pain you felt for him.Â
Without thinking you placed your palm on his hand. âIâm so sorry I shouldnât have pried at last supper. I understand.â The breath in Jakeâs chest as he looked from his hand to you.Â
The both of you looked at each other as if trying to enter one's soul. Jake moved his other hand closer and closer to your face. By your ear. He tucked your hair behind it and set his palm on the ends of your face.Â
You both stay like that for a moment with only the sounds of breathe filling the room. Then your mind snaps out of whatever trance you were in and your cheeks get hot in realization of what is happening.
âI- uh my apologiesâ, You move your hand away and turn back to your painting.
âRightâ Jake spoke with a long pause and got up from his stool to exit. Before he could leave you spoke again.
âJakeâ
âYes?â He tilted his head back into the door frame.
âThank youâ, And with that he nodded his head and was on his way. You let out a long sigh and slouched in your seat trying to make sense of what just happened. Why is my heart racing? You grabbed at your fabrics and held your heart again.Â
Parallel almost like it was fate, Jake didn't move his feet. He leaned against the door frame, breathing quickly. He too had his heart in hand. He wasâŚwarm. Something he thought only the sun could make. Heat. Though there was no sun in sight. Only you. The one to light a flame in his cold heart that he has yet made sense of.Â
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