Bound to a Bloodsucker

chapter four

"A vampire? Really?" I laugh, sliding off my stool and taking my empty water glass to the sink. Grabbing a sponge, I continue my laughter. "You really want me to believe that?"
"Well, yeah. I want you to believe the truth rather than I lie. I mean, how could you have a soulmate that's human and have all those problems?" Peter leans his butt against the counter beside me. He folds his arms and watches as I clean the cup.
"You're not a vampire. Vampires are pale and cold, and they're old with English accents, and they have sharp, vampire teeth, and their eyes change color. Your eyes have been shockingly green every time I see you. You speak American, kind of Southern to be exact. Where are you from?"
"I was born in North Carolina and moved around a lot."
"So," I scrub the sponge on the already sparkly clean cup. "You want me to believe you're a vampire? Where are the Dracula teeth?"
"You're such a stereotypical teenager. Seriously, stop watching Twilight," Peter shuffles his feet with a smile then looks back at me as I wait for his answer. "I don't have pointy teeth until I'm hungry, but even then they aren't pointy. They're just sharp. If I had sharp teeth all the time, my lips would be split and bloody." I narrow my eyes. He's such a liar.
Peter rolls his eyes. "I'm not a liar."
"Prove it. Prove you're a vampire."
"How?"
"I don't know. Don't you heal fast?"
"Yeah, but-"
I grab a knife from the knife block and hand it to him.
"Show me." He sighs and pulls the blade across his forearm. Blood drips slowly from the gash, but then the skin begins to grow back and seal, leaving a pink mark. The mark then vanishes and it looks the same as before. "Okay. You heal fast. I still can't wrap my head around you being a vampire. That stuff only exists in books and movies." I say.
A voice enters my head. Not my voice. Someone else's. A male's.
I'll show you.
With wide eyes, I spin around to face Peter. He smiles.
"I let you into my head."
"What do you mean, you'll show me?" I query.
"I can show you that I'm a vampire," he says, standing in front of me. My butt is already against the counter, so I can't scoot back. "Do you trust me?" His voice deepens. It's husky and raspy like it was in the woods.
I nod my head. I trust him. I don't know why I trust this stranger, but I do. "You shouldn't."
Before I can question, a sharp pain erupts in my neck. I scream, but the pain fades. Pleasure is all I can feel. And it's everywhere. Flashes, memories, colors. Tingles and electricity. Scenes like from a movie play out in my head- but it's me. Me laying on a pillow opening my eyes. Me standing by a window dressed in a night gown. Me, again, dressed in a fluffy white dress walking down the aisle. Me cooking in my pajamas, me watching a movie on the couch, me running on the beach in a light pink dress and looking back over my shoulder, me playing with children who have green eyes and dark hair. The last is of me flipping through pictures at a table. The pictures are of me, Peter, and the kids. Occasionally, I see Jack, Jenny, and a few people I don't really know. Mom shows up in one- one with me in a wedding dress. Mom is in the background with a lit cigarette.
The scenes disperse, and stars, hearts, and colors vibrantly flash in my mind. It's unlike anything I've ever felt, and I don't ever want it to stop. I want it to continue on and on until I die. And then after I die.
But it stops only seconds later and I wake up in my bed with the sunshine pouring through my window. Squinting, I glance at the calendar on my wall. It's only Tuesday. I have school.
Gasping, I try to pull myself forward.
"Don't bother," a husky voice mutters and I start, my heart beating fast. My head whips around to see the vampire sitting in a chair across my room. He's leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands in a flat, praying gesture- oddly ironic given his creature status. His lips are pressed against the top of his fingers as he stares at the ground, his green eyes trying to bore a hole into my bedroom floor. The sunlight is in front of him, not showing on his skin. I wonder what happens to him in the sun if he claims to be a vampire. He is a vampire. He bit me. And drank my blood.
"More like drained," he states, sighing and standing from the chair. He folds an arm across his white shirt clad- torso and rests the other hand against his face. "God, I just... I couldn't stop. I thought I could've..." I feel like I should say something, but what?
"Well, at least you didn't kill me," I try to hope for positive. This guy shows up in a dream and claims to be a bloodsucker, he can read minds, we have some weird voodoo connection, and he almost drained me dry, but I'm trying to make him feel better. I really will never know how many times I was dropped on my head when I was a child.
That thought earns a small chuckle from him.
"I almost killed you, Jasey. I don't know what would've happened if I didn't hear your brother barreling through the hallways a few feet away," Peter mumbles, dragging his perfect pale hands through his rich, dark hair. My eyes widen.
"Jack saw you?"
"No," he drops his hands and takes a seat in the chair once again, this time leaning back. "I carried you to your room before he could. Vampires have superhuman speed, remember?" He smirks, and given the situation, I should want to run and scream. But I just laugh at his futile joke. "Anyway," he sighs. "He left early this morning to get some groceries. He thought you were sick because you looked pale and feverish and nauseated. That's why he put a bucket by your bed, a note and a ginger ale on your night stand, and your phone charged up beside your pillow."
I notice the items he points out and attempt to reach out for the note, but my arm falls weakly back to the bed. I'm so tired.
Before I can even close my eyes, the note is resting in front of my face with a pale arm attached. Peter stands by my bed, hovering, with the note clutched between his fingers.
"Okay. If there wear any doubts in my mind about your vampirism, they quickly just flew out the window," I mumble, not even trying to grab the note. I just read it as it rests in the bloodsucker's steady hand. Bloodsucker. Ugh. That gives me the chills.
"Yeah, I wish you'd stop calling me that," Peter murmurs. Rolling my eyes, I glance at him.
"At least it's not out loud."
"Might as well be." I choose to ignore that comment and read through the note.
Jasey,
I've gone to the store to get some groceries. Don't worry about getting out of bed, okay? Just get better. Jenny is going to a friend's house, so you have nothing to worry about. Get better. I've left you some ginger ale, and there's a bowl of soup in the fridge. Just heat it up, okay? I love you.
- Jack
"Hm. Okay, thanks," I tell Peter so that he can put the note back down. He places it down on my nightstand and takes a seat on my bed.
"Jasey, I'm so sorry." His voice cracks with raw emotion and remorse as he avoids eye contact. "I wish you never would've gotten caught up in this."
"So you don't want me?" I ask, feeling overcome with sadness for some reason. I hardly know this guy, but the feeling that he wants nothing to do with me is too melancholy for me to cope with.
"Jasey, of course I want you. I will always want you. Always. I just, I'm sorry for everything that you will have to go through," he explains, his hand hovering but not touching my face. Another inch and we will make contact. I consider moving my own head to make his hand touch my face, but he pulls away with a sigh. "I can't. Not yet. If I touch you now, after I've tasted your blood... I can't. You're weak, your heart is slow, your blood is... loud. I will kill you if I touch you."
"Well, how long until I'm not weak?" I inquire, hoarse and angry that I can't touch him.
"You'll be better by tonight," he answers, once again taking a seat in the damn chair that is way too far away for my liking. I pout. Tonight? "Midnight. Typically, midnight heals the wounds inflicted from a vampire if the vampire charms the wound, which can only be done between a human and vampire bond."