Invisible String | TVD x WIZARDING WORLD

THE FIRST TASTE ALWAYS STAYS

Leave.
I should've screamed it. Shoved him. Anything but this—this shaking whisper, this last thread of control.

"Leave," I repeated, softer this time. Like a prayer I didn't believe in.

He stepped closer. I didn't move. Couldn't. My fingers were white-knuckled around the stone ledge, and I could feel the thirst rising in me like a tide, like a scream I couldn't swallow.

"You're not yourself, Di," he said, quiet but steady. "What's wrong?"

What do I say?

That I'm scared of myself?
That the last time I fed was him and I've wanted to taste him again ever since?
That if he stands any closer I might lose the battle I've been fighting for months?

That I see her when I look in the mirror?

"You don't get it, Nott, do you?" My voice came out sharp, teeth glinting just beneath. "I said leave."

He stopped—halfway between bravery and stupidity.

"Your eyes..." he murmured. "They're... they're—"

I looked down. Damn it. I hadn't realized. The black veins were spiderwebbing under my eyes, hunger darkening my face like war paint.

"Leave," I whispered again, a breaking thing.

But then he said it. The worst thing he could have said.

"You need to feed, Di."

What the—

How did he—

My head snapped up, and he didn't flinch.

"How do you—?" I started.

"I remember," he said, voice barely above the wind. "That morning. You think I forgot? You think your compulsion worked?"

Oh god.
He knew.
He always knew.

"You seriously need to feed first," he said, calm and too close. "We'll have a Q&A round later."

Then—he tilted his head. Just like that. Like it was normal. Like it wasn't the single most dangerous thing he could've done.
A quiet little offering. Neck exposed. Pulse right there. Right there.
God.

"Here," he said. Like he was handing me a damn glass of water.

My breath caught. A laugh slipped out—dry, shaky, almost a sob.

"Wrist could work," I muttered, trying for casual. My voice cracked anyway.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't step back. "Guess I'll have to learn about you, then."

His tone was light. His eyes weren't.

I stared at him. My lips parted. My fangs—itched.

And still—still—I hesitated.

Because what if I hurt him again?
What if this time, I didn't stop?

But he just stood there, steady, stupid, brave, him. The boy I once sank my teeth into without meaning to. The one who still didn't flinch.

"I trust you, Diana," he said.

And it shattered something in me.

Slowly—too slowly—I reached for his wrist.

But his voice stopped me again.

"Neck's still on the table, by the way," he said softly, almost teasing.

I closed my eyes.

"Don't tempt me, Nott."

But my mouth was already brushing skin.