She thought she was dreaming.
A beautiful monster stood in a doorway above a lip of bean bag felt, lit from behind by an old, orange streetlight. His eyes glowed like small LED lights.
As he had behind the dumpster, the prankster man looked at her with surreal, inhuman hunger. She couldn't see clothes other than a dark patch of skin-tight shorts. His jaw hung open like the dead, heavy with red-lit fangs reaching towards one another like stalagmites and stalactites in a cave.
The door squeaked close behind him, cutting off the light, leaving the lone glow of his scarlet eyes to shine like matches in the dark. Emotionless. Inhuman. Hungry.
She only had time to blink. Then he came down on her, burying her deeper into the beanbag. His breath puffed sickly sweet across her face, contrasting with the sour musk of rust. Spit from his gaping mouth dripped onto her face.
"Wait," she gasped.
She couldn't breathe beneath his weight.
She braced herself for the clamping blades to both cut and flatten her throat. She could remember the agony and the snap of her windpipe being snapped like a straw. Perhaps she could survive it again, though she couldn't fathom how she had survived it then.
But the suffocating agony didn't come. Instead, the hard, sharp pain came from her right middle finger.
When she yipped in alarm, something soft, warm, and wet licked at the pain, soothing it.
She lifted her head to peek, shaking from the mixture of remaining sedatives and adrenaline. It was too dark to see much but the glow of the white streaks in his hair and the paleness of his bare skin, but she could feel his night-cooled hair against her throat and his mouth wrapped around her finger.
She managed to pull up her knee to give her the barest relief from his weight to breathe, though only in quick, tight gasps. What little she could see was already bursting with black stars.
Just as she began to wish she'd just pass out already, he rolled off her to pull flush against her side, flinging a leg over her thighs. He took her finger with him, but she got what she needed: a lungful of air.
The gentle licking gave way to a hard, stinging suck. Her heart hitched. She started to tremble, then to cry.
The vampire pulled back from where he had curled about her hand to give her a bleary, half-lidded glance of lit red irises. She could once again just see in the dim glow of his eyes. Her fear wavered in the sudden overwhelming impression he gave her of baby pulling back sleepily from its mother's breast.
Then she saw the blood beading from multiple fang holes down her white index finger in that faintest of light. The whiteness of his hand positively glowed.
He blinked. Darkness flickered in and out. Then after grazing his nose against her upper arm, he closed his eyes and went back to his suckling. It still hurt like hell. She had to clench her teeth to stop from whimpering. But compared to him biting her neck, it was nothing.
Her mini, mental Sky rolled her eyes and muttered 'You shouldn't be finding the positives in being fed on by a vampire, you're being fed on by a vampire!'
Yet, sooner than she hoped, her finger fell out of his mouth with a little 'pop' and his face slid down the incline of the beanbag to nestle against her breasts (the sensation of which only made her cry harder). By his slow rhythmic breathing, she assumed he had fallen asleep, though he had hardly looked awake to begin with. So, perhaps, vampires slept?
Threat of being eaten alive gone, she came down from her shuddering adrenaline to feel that he was, indeed, wearing basically nothing. Boxers would have covered more than the stretchy shorts he wore. It only made her situation so much worse. She'd had little to no positive physical contact with men all her life, having no father or extended family to speak of. Her intense shyness had kept her from befriending boys, and others in general. Sky was perhaps the closest to masculinity as she'd ever get, happy boob bouncing included.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the feel of his breath across her throat. Goosebumps erupted all over her body.
Another breath later and he snaked his arm over her waist. Within seconds she'd gone from baby bottle to a koala's trunk, and her brain was exploding from the unfamiliar sensation. He was heavy, and hot, and still smelled overwhelmingly of that something sickly sweet and blood. Was there something about men's skin that made everywhere it touched tingle uncomfortably? Or was that just vampires?
She felt hot. Too hot. Weren't vampires supposed to be cold as ice? At this rate, forget suffocation and blood draining, she was going to be cooked to death!
"Uh..." she pushed at his shoulder feebly. Her arms were still weak. "Mr...Vampire? Please..." Had he not given her his name? Well, it wasn't like she needed it, in their...peculiar situation. "Please get off?"
If she had been expecting an answer, she didn't get one. Though her heart rate was spiking again as she felt something tacky dried to his skin. Perhaps blood? Was this the smell of blood?
She breathed, puffed, blocking that thought out hard. He'd grown still, that's what mattered, and though he held her he wasn't stopping her—yet. She managed to unpin her arms, at least, and froze when he sighed. But when that's all he did in response to her continued squirming, she grew brave enough to give his chest a hard shove. But it was like pushing against a wall. A wall that made her hands warm and tingle and her lower belly get all static-y, as though she'd swallowed something spikey.
Yeah. Must be vampire powers. Magic skin that made her want to touch more, even though it low-key shocked her and was connected to something that ate her and drugged her and then ate her some more...that sounded way more suggestive than it really was.
She finally looked up from the depths of the beanbag to what she could see of the door. Perhaps, if this was a done deal for him and he really was down for the count, if she could get out...
Escape from broiling heat and breathing wasn't her only desperate need, however.
Lea needed to pee. Badly. And a heavy vampire on her bladder had only made it emergency grade.
Sky would have just peed on her captor already and called it justice.
Lea only gave the temptation one thought before increasing the strength of her wiggling. She managed to get her arms up to the top of the bean bag made walls and twisted her hands into it, ignoring the sting of her injured finger. Then she heaved.
And actually rose. More of her strength than she had thought must have returned. Or maybe it was the adrenaline from being scared half to death.
The vampire's arms dropped to her thighs and her shins were pulled free of his legs.
But his face followed her, nuzzling up along her belly and under her shirt. With a closed mouth squeal of alarm she scrambled back, breeching the top of Mount Bean Bag just to gracelessly tip out back first.
The floor hit hard. She saw more stars.
His face tried to sleepily follow, only to come to a rest between her legs with a soft huff as the rest of his body sank into the reshaped abyss her tipping body had made of the bean bag. Thus, she found herself with a full grown man seemingly asleep between her legs, half-eaten by black felt, and it gave her all sorts of exploding, Pop Rock candy feelings all over her body.
She stared a little longer at the faint outline of his face and shoulders in the semi-darkness.
They were nice shoulders.
She shook herself and peeled herself up from the hard floor.
Pee first. Then escape. Freak out later.
She found the bathroom easily enough, but it wasn't until she locked the door behind her that she realized she had been able to get up without passing out. Yeah, her head still hurt and felt a bit light, her back didn't feel too great from where she'd fallen, and her feet were a little unsure beneath her, but she was conscious. That was leaps and bounds better from the day before...if it had been a day. She didn't know how many times he fed her the cocoa, nor did she want to know. She was having a hard enough time accepting her situation as reality without throwing in losing an indefinable amount of her time to drugs.
Guess he really does know his stuff. Even as she thought that, she could smell the thick musk of aromatic herbs filling the bathroom. She even found unlabeled plastic bottles on the side of the tub by the toilet, which, on sniffing (she had a lot of pee, thus enough time to do some investigating of what was in reach) smelled of the lemon and mint she had caught from his hair.
Citrus was certainly not what she had expected of a vampire.
But, thoughts for another time. She had to find something to get her stupid finger to stop bleeding. Then it was out the door and—
He was waiting on the other side of the bathroom door. Fully upright, awake, and squinting at her through the blaze of the electric light.
...she should have just peed on him.