The sun was starting to rise. With a growing sadness, I watched the sky slowly turn from violet to a light pinkish hue. I had failed.
I retired back to the bear cave, too broken and starved to search for a better place where the rogue wouldn't find me. I sank down on the ground and shut my weary eyes. By now they felt like needles had punctured them.
To wait for nightfall again would be the longest and hardest thing to do. Hopefully, when I awake I would regain some strength.
When I woke up it wasn't because the sun had set and my body was programmed to get up at night, rather it was because of the feeling that I was about to die any second now. I was feeble and to get out of the bear cave to feel the night air against my sore skin- I had to crawl.
Hunting now would be suicide. I was sure if I had the energy, I would have cried. The normal, healthy and strong Rae had never shed a tear before all this happened. Was I really that weak? Somewhere at the back of my mind, I was hoping that the rogue never left.
NO, my brain returned, you can do this.
I forced my legs to stand, and holding on to trees for support, I began to walk. Being this starved diminished my senses, but I was still able to hear the sound of padded feet on grass. There was a predator nearby. I followed the noise until I was at the scene.
The animal was cat-like. Like a tiger, but much smaller. It didn't matter to me what it was, at this point, I only heard the blood rushing through its body. I watched it creep up closer to the deer it was stalking.
This is suicide.
Even if I did have the element of surprise, I was slower now. And so weak. If it came to a fight I would surely lose. And to attack the deer would require speed, which I surely didn't have.
well I can't just starve I whined to myself.
And so I did the most unpretentious thing a vampire could do. The single act that could make one's reputation go down in a second. I was about to lose any dignity I had left as I watched the large cat hunt like a hunter was meant to, and drag it's prey underneath a tree and began to feast on it.
I had my aching fangs bared and waited for it to finish it's meal. My heart sank to the point where it could sink no more. My ego, my pride, gone. I was a scavenger.
"Please tell me you're not about to do what I think you're doing"
I turned around so fast at the sound of his voice that my head spun. My eyes widened and the feeling of shame mixed with how unwillingly relieved he was there made me burst into tears.
And once the tears started I couldn't stop them. He looked taken aback. If he had expected me to shun him or give a snide remark, then he just got something entirely different. I had nothing left.
Somehow I ended up in his arms. I could tell he didn't know what to do other than give my hair a few gentle strokes, but with each stroke I only cried harder. I tried telling myself to stop, but the humiliation of what I had almost done, and the fact that if he hadn't come I most probably would've died in a few days wouldn't let me stop.
"Come on, let's get you out of here" he mumbled
"I can't" I hiccuped between sobs
He took a moment to study my pathetic state with those grey eyes and noted that I barely had the energy to stand, let alone walk. He gave me a short nod and swiped me off my feet.
My sobs, to my relief, at this point were sniffles. I tried not to lean on him so much, but his arms underneath my thighs and the soft fabric of his shirt made me drop my head on his shoulder. The same shoulder with the X, but suddenly it didn't matter to me anymore. He could be a toad right now for all I cared.
I closed my eyes and listened as his feet made the slightest of sound when he walked. I felt the rise and fall of his chest and every once in a while, his arm muscles would flex ever so slightly. He flitted for a while, but soon took very slow steps and his footsteps echoed and I could hear doors opening and closing until he set me down on something soft.
My eyes fluttered open. It was a small studio apartment. Very small. He had set me on a bed with grey covers, almost as grey as his eyes, that faced a kitchen and to the right was an open door that led to the bathroom. There was a big window on the left.
"Here" he sat down beside me and ripped the corner of a pack of blood before giving it to me. He had several more on his lap.
I paused before I took it.
"It's all donated blood" he told me
There are no words to describe how heavenly it tasted to me. How much warmer it made me feel. How much my life had depended on just a few sips of this. I was done with the first pack fast, and it only left an un-quenched thirst in me. He had already opened the second one for me.
There was no hesitation in taking it this time, and by the fourth one, it had become a routine. He watched me the whole time with unwavering eyes which had been uncomfortable at first, but I got used to the feeling. When I had finished the fifth, I sucked out every last drop in the bag, and licked the remains off my teeth and lips and looked up at him, waiting for the sixth.
His lips curved upwards "I think you had enough"
I watched the transformation in his face as he smiled. It was like something you had to study first. I caught myself staring and forced myself to turn away. Back to the kitchen, the window.
"You live here?" It was a stupid question. He raised an eyebrow at me and stood, the bed lifting a bit from relief from his weight.
"There's a shower there if you want to clean yourself up" he said instead and opened a small door I hadn't realized was a closet and took out a black t-shirt, dropping it on the bed "You can change into this while I get your clothes cleaned"
I took the shirt and rushed into the bathroom without complaint, making sure the door was locked behind me. I stripped from the bloody and mud-stained jeans and shirt I had on and observed myself in the mirror. I nearly gasped at the sight of my hair. To say it was big is not a good enough description of the birds nest of dirty curls I had.
I grimaced. Had he seen me like that? The thought that escaped made me want to punch myself. Did I really care? Does it matter what the rogue thinks of you? Granted, he was one heck of a rogue, but he had earned his title not by saving helpless pathetic vampires. The council must have saw his deed as evil to banish him. The same council that had vampires like me abandoned.
I pushed the thought away and let the water run. The water remained dark pink at my heels for a while. I grabbed the nearest shampoo and squirted a heavy load on my head, trying at the same time to scrub dried blood off my arms and stomach.
By the time I was done, I felt ten times lighter, and the blood from earlier had made me feel like I was glowing. This time, my reflection looked more like me than the hollow-faced zombie from before. I pulled his shirt over my head and watched it fall halfway down my thighs.
He didn't have a hair drier. I scooped the bloody clothes off the floor and slowly emerged from the bathroom. He was lying on the bed, one arm propped over his eyes. I stood there for a moment, watching his chest move in rhythm with each breath he took. He looked just as tired as I felt.
Not knowing what to do, I let the door snap loudly on purpose, and felt just a bit of guilt as I watched him sit up, only slightly startled. The look on his face was replaced by his usual poker face pretty fast.
His eyes scanned me for a second before he stood. My heart picked up speed with every step he took towards me, until he was just a couple of inches away. I held my breath. He leaned down, a small smirk creeping on his face, and took the clothes from my hands and walked away.
I tried to keep from gaping at his retreating back. And I tried even harder not to wonder what the hell just happened.
