She stood at the counter in a pair of super short shorts and a loose tank top watching something spin around in the microwave, her hair was down, longer than he had thought, and unintentionally he noticed she obviously wore no bra.
"You really shouldn't be standing on it." he said clearing his throat, she had nice legs he noted, trying not to notice anything else. She jumped at his sudden presence a pained look flitting across her face; smell of tomatoes and spices in the air.
"You sit down and I'll get that when it's done, is there anything else you'll need?" he questioned her face blazing.
"I'm fine really; I can do this on my own." She said lowering her gaze, "Not the first time I had to do stuff on a twisted ankle." She continued, hobbling to the fridge she pulled out a bottle of tea then returned to the microwave; he snorted lowly.
"You really aren't accustomed to anyone helping you are you?" he questioned as the microwave let out a beep.
"Well...no one else to depend on but yourself." She snipped slightly in a derisive tone.
He wondered then if she had been doing everything on her own for a long while, and how many people had promised to be there but inevitably in the end were absent and had lied to her. She carried herself, when she didn't know he was there, with her head high, her back straight and an attitude that told you not to mess with her, that she could handle her own, he figured a lot of people probably perceived her as a bitch but he himself thought it was just a front. She distrusted niceness it seemed, doubting its genuineness constantly.
Grabbing her little bowl of microwavable ravioli out of the microwave she returned to where she'd been sitting on the couch.
Sitting facing her one knee bent and on the couch he looked her over, "May I?" he questioned, her flushing once more as she shook her head yes and he lifted her foot placing it against his abs and in his lap; her flush deepened, "So Aria, what about your dad?" he questioned.
"My dad?" she said thoughtfully looking pensive, "My dad was difficult to say the least, we had our fights, but I know dad loved me."
"So, he was present in your life then?"
"Yes, he and mom were married 26 years before she passed; he was present my whole life. As dad got older though he got nastier attitude wise so we argued a lot." She finished then taking out a ravioli she put it in her mouth and chewed.
"Is that any good?" he asked arching an eyebrow at her.
"It's food." She stated flatly, "It's my preferred brand though so yeah it's good I guess." She continued then looked at him curiously, "Can you really not eat?"
"Not in the sense that you do no." he said with a smile, "Liquid is difficult to eat. I uh...I prefer a vegan diet." He finished her eyes growing wide with curiosity.
"Vegan...how do you be a vegan vampire if your source of nutrition is blood?"
"I prefer to feed off the blood of animals, very rarely do I have human blood." Lifting her leg gently he wrapped the ace bandage around it; she had soft skin on her legs but rough feet from years of wearing sandals he supposed. Her hand flew to her throat and she jerked away from him a little.
"Have you ever killed anyone?" she asked nervously, he pursed his lips and looked her in the eye; would his answer frighten her?
"I uh...I would be lying if I said no..." he began then trailed off as she completely pulled away from him, "Trust me if I wanted to kill you I would have by now...you're not my type." He continued a tinge of mixed emotions flitting across her face, distrust, curiosity, anger as if in some way he'd insulted her.
"I wasn't aware vampires had a type." She snipped, ah so that is what had done it he thought as the anger deepened a little; her anger sort of amused him he noticed.
"You're not a murderer, rapist, druggie or any other of the foul things human beings can be." He said his own tone defensive in his ear, without asking he gently grabbed her leg back up and went back to wrapping it, "I've seen the disease that is the human race for over 300 years Aria, I feed from the wicked so therefore they are the only humans that need worry about my taking blood without their permission." He partially seethed but attempted to keep in mind the stigma that existed around vampires despite all that had happened in the Great War 50 years ago; tinge of pain.
"Without permission?"
"I've had the blood of what I call innocents before but only when they offer it and there are places that purchase and sell blood bags to us." He stated wrapping the ace bandage one last time then fastening it in place, "Unfortunately there are those like the delivery vampire still till this day that do not care if you're innocent or not because to them the blood is the blood but...I plan on being rid of those menaces that think that way around here." He gritted out, it was never ending, their kind of vampire, looking down at her foot again he noted that she wore a purple nail polish on her toes which appeared to have been painted with a great attempt at precision.
"How are you going to get rid of them?" she questioned then her eyes grew wide as if he did not even need to answer for her to suddenly get the drift, "You mean just like you did the delivery vampire." She nearly gasped, "Won't that make other vampires angry?!"
"Exactly like I got rid of him, yes, but, they will learn not to hunt in my territory." He replied then smiled bitterly, "Since the dawn of the first brood of vampires we have had to fight and maintain territories rarely is their ever peace amongst vampires that's why typically very few and usually it's a coven inhabit the same area." He continued, "There will always be bad vampires per se." Looking down he stared at her foot which she had still not thought to move, blushing she removed it from his lap finally; not that he had minded it being there oddly enough.
"Do you have a coven?" she questioned as she propped her foot up on a hard coffee table.
"No, I'm typically a loner, I do not care for my own kind, never have, I have a few of my own kind that I will associate with such as Enrick whom you've already met."
She let out a low gasp, "That boy was a vampire?!" he couldn't help but laugh at her surprise.
"He's several millennia older than I am; never underestimate our age by using our appearance to judge it." He snickered, "My maker is only physically in her 20's"
"You're maker?"
"Yes, I was made by Lilith, the Queen of all my kind herself in 1808."
"So how long have you been a vampire?"
"About 275 years." He answered.
"I can't imagine living for 275 years...all the change you've seen." She wondered more to herself than him it seemed.
"I've seen a lot, I've seen the rise and fall of eras, the rise and fall and rise again of technology and I've seen countless wars; I even saw war when I was still mortal and carry those battle scars with me still, immortality just enhanced them. Hell...I have scars from my own brother." He snipped subconsciously grabbing his stomach lightly, flash of anger.
"My brother holds a scar from me." She said with a fond laugh, "I don't remember doing it, but, my dad and my brother both attest to it, I guess when we were younger I threw a building block at him and hit him between the eyes and it left an indent scar in his forehead." She finished still laughing fondly, talking about scars made him notice the one above her left eye.
Reaching out not thinking he touched it lightly, "Did your brother get you back?" he questioned.
Her skin flushed brightly causing him to withdraw his hand quickly, "Um no, I went flying into a piece of particle board, we lived in a 2 story duplex and my dad told me several times not to run up and down the stairs well I didn't listen and one day I was running down the stairs and must have tripped on the landing cause the next thing I knew I had blood gushing down my face and was being doctored by a paramedic." She finished then looked at him curiously, "What about your scars from your brother?"
He sat and stared at her a moment, anger vibrating through him at the memory but wanting to answer her question at the same time, this was part of becoming friends after all right? Telling each other stories, sharing looks into each other's lives. Standing up he paced a couple times then finally deciding he stopped and turned towards her, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt he lifted it up to where the 3 bullet hole scars were visible which caused her to initially flush brightly then her face to fall as she realized the graveness of the situation.
"He attempted to kill me one night." He said, more anger, her face fell further as she stared at the scars.
"That's awful." She gasped out with a deep frown.
Letting the hem drop he took his seat on the love-seat again, "He always blamed me for our mother's death, he hated me, and when my father left me everything in his Will Kain went ballistic, he showed up at the factory my father had inherited while I worked late one night, tricked me into a close quarter situation then shot me...he figured if I was gone everything came to him. Once he thought he was finished with me he left and went to my father's villa planning to kill my father as well. Kain was always a greedy child, he always assumed he was the best and deserved everything and all eyes on him; he was jealous of me plain and simple." More anger, "That's when Lilith came to me, as I lay there, bleeding out...and in that moment she gave me an offer that I was all too eager to take...that night...that night I truly fell from grace." He muttered then looked away, it'd been so long sense he'd told the whole story; he hadn't even discussed it with Eli.
© Eva Henderson, 2016