The Story of the Vampire, L (Completed | Featured )

Part 2 - Fantasy

Don't think I was a victim. I was sixteen. I wanted everything I felt I had coming to me. The money was not for the sex. It was for my silence. I could have said no at any time, and it would have stopped. One might argue that I wasn't old enough to understand what it meant, and that therefore I could be taken advantage of. That I was lonely and didn't know any other life but being manipulated. Maybe. But that's not as fun.

Things went crazy after Miou died. There was a lot of rushing around. Miou still had a social security number and friends. There were a lot of loose ends, and in the night, a baby crying far off in the direction of the main house. I never went up there. It only confirmed to me that being in the presence of others led to a broken neck, so I slept in my own bed and kept my things neat. A Bentley? To comfort him after the death of his friend. Diamonds? They were for Bell, and he's given them to the boy, no matter. Sometimes Dasius came at night, when Bell was passed out, and called up to my window to be let in. 

I'd open my window, "No go away. You're disgusting. You're a pervert."

"Don't pretend to be pure," he'd hiss, looking around in the dark. "I know that you like it."

"I'm faking it for the money."

"You're driving me crazy."

"Go away. You're illegal. Unnatural."

"Please let me entertain you," he'd say.

"Ew."

But I thought he was handsome. He has those heavy-lidded eyes, and that sad, drowsy look. When he has been kissing, his lips flush red, and when he has been sucking, they look very abused. Sometimes when I kissed him he would push me back gently by the chin and look away, and close his eyes to take a breath. He smelled lightly of pomade, and sometimes he dabbed a little cologne behind his ears. I found that he had no natural smell of his own. He was non-threatening. The money and goods kept a distance between us, that this was buy and sell and not personal, not intimate. But sometimes I caught him looking at me with a funny pride on his face, and I couldn't read it. 

And then once, about a month after the first time, while he drew his nose up my heated stomach, he said, "Tell me about your day."

"They're talking about putting me in school," I said. "They want to get rid of me."

"You don't want to go to school?" he asked, tucking my legs together and kissing my forehead.

"I'm too stupid to go to school. I don't want to learn. Who cares about it?"

"Have you not been to school?" 

"No. So what?"

He adjusted himself on my bed and sat up a bit. "Could have you at the school in town. You would still be near home. You would commute."

I took his arm and kissed the crook of his elbow.

"Don't kiss," he said, quietly.

"Why?"

"Don't kiss. My arm," he said.

"Why?"

"Don't do that, you brat."

"What are you getting me for my birthday?" I asked him, pulling him down towards me. 

"If I tell you it won't be a surprise."

I had no idea who he was. It did not even occur to me that he had anything to do with Laurent, or Bell, or me. That he had money, we all had a little money. I didn't know anything about anything, and my ignorance made me bold. He was very cagey, and said a lot without saying anything. Sometimes when he was talking to me he would begin to run out of breath, and then he would just stare at me as if he were staring at the face of God, with his mouth open.