Cold heart, Black night

Chapter Eleven

Hello chickens, how's life these days? I'm finding it harder and harder to find time to upload nowadays, so sorry about that, but i'm totally jammed out with homework and shit. This chapter mainly focuses on the ball, but there's a bit of conversation between sam and lara. Please vote and comment on your way out, it's much appreciated :) 

Oh, and sorry if this is a little rushed, but flicking between this to simultaneous equations isn't the best fun i've had in my life. So i apologize if it isn't as good as others. You should vote to keep me perked up;)

--- Sookie 

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Chapter Eleven

I felt totally drunk in his presence. He sauntered forward to me, lips curving up, people making a pathway for him on the floor. Every woman swooned, their cheeks somehow flushing as he lightly brushed past them. I never took my eyes away. He was physical perfection. I wanted my fingers in that mop of blonde hair, married or not married. Judging by his intent gaze, this would happen either way. Thank god for this dress.

Emelle looked like someone had kicked her in the balls. She sat on ‘her’ (IT WAS MINE) throne, a face like thunder. She had a goblet in one hand, her other carrying one of those long smoking things, the things you saw Audrey Hepburn with in the classic movies. Well, wasn’t she sophisticated for a whore? Not.

I smiled at him. He smiled back. I died. Not knowing if I should move toward him or stay put, I move off to dance with someone else. I don’t even acknowledge this persons face, just grabbing him and making him move with me. I keep my eyes on…fuck, I didn’t even know his name. Everyone just called him by ‘The King’ or something. He looked pretty stunned, his lips cracking a smirk. Instead of pushing whoever the guy was away, he beckoned to some random girl, making Emelle’s face drop even more, and she obeyed. She was just a little blonde thing, maybe no older than me. He pulled her about, stroking her hips and moving in such a way a girl would dream about. She kept her eyes on him, and he kept his on hers, only occasionally sparing me a glance. I just plain as day perved, staring at his amazing beauty. I even kept switching dance partners to get close to them, like a proper stalker. Wow. I would have to be married to that. What a shame.

It kept on like this, us both continuously switching dance partners, checking each other out in the corner of eyes. I seemed more interested than him, but then again; he had been in love with my mom. I was probably just another wife for him to keep the balance. It was his duty to do that. It was my duty to now reciprocate. I think that was how it worked anyway; my mom killed herself, thus creating the consequences that he had me at sixteen. If she hadn’t done so, I’d still be at home, alive, and normal. I wouldn’t have met Will. I wouldn’t be here…

Speaking of Will, the man I’d kissed like I’d never kissed before not a few hours before, he seemed to be rather enjoying himself. Now the party was starting to pick up, become the party I knew demons to have (i.e ridiculous, drugged up, blood fuelled, sexual orgies on the buffet table), I’d spotted him. Whist I was flirting shamelessly, I caught him out in the corner of the grand room getting it on with Emelle. He was almost dry humping her. They were rubbing around dirty dancing style, Emelle’s perfect siren red hair fluffing about against his body like some clown stripper. His eyes were animalistic, hers just pissed off and flirtatious. Much like usual, then. Stupid clown stripper.

I was also getting my grinding on. My partner, some stupid ass vampire scum I’d come to, was grabbing my thighs, pulling them apart and rubbing himself up and all around that area. I pushed him off slightly, digging my nails in his back whilst shaking my ass a little, still keeping a watchful eye on the beautiful blonde man. I was quite enjoying myself.