A/N: Evangeline Polair above ^^
Chapter 33 : The Mortal and Immortal Sides of the Heart
The microwave beeped, sounding that my delicious meal within the oven was piping hot and ready to serve.
Almost drooling, I pulled out the bowl of creamy carbonara that I'd made a few days ago and was eating as leftovers tonight.
"Are you positive you don't want some?" I asked Alastair, licking my thumb clean as it slipped into the sauce. Crossing the kitchen quickly, I settled the hot bowel on the counter.
"No," was all he supplied me with, his tone stiff but still caressing a wave of gentleness about it.
I gave him a sad smile as I stared at the back of his head and the dark locks that fell past his ears and to his collar. He leant on the opposite side of the counter, arms crossed over his chest and facing ahead, giving me the view of his long back and the white shirt stretched across his lean muscles. He stared into the living room. It was shadowed by nightfall, only the chandelier in the kitchen on and illuminating the counter tops.
Alastair had been like that for hours, trapped in the confinement of his thoughts, looking but not really seeing any of what was around him. He'd become more reserved since Evangeline and Draven's unexpected visit, but that wasn't the only thing that'd changed. He looked sterner and more on edge than what his normally equable temperament would suggest. Passersby probably wouldn't think twice about it. I, however, could sense even the littlest alterations in him without even trying. And right then it was blindingly obvious that he wasn't all there in one place.
Pulling out a stool, I plonked down at the end of the counter and ate in total silence. It wasn't uncomfortable or awkward, it was simply... quiet.
We could hear the house move around us, things in the walls creaking, the howl of the wind and fall of snow outside. The only warm thing was the carbonara I'd made. Which I was enjoying all on my own.
I sighed. "Alastair..."
"Perhaps we should move," he mumbled, loud enough for me to hear and drop my fork in shock.
The words I were about to say ran dry on my tongue. "What? No."
He turned over his shoulder to meet my gaze. "We should consider it."
With my brows furrowed I asked, "Why?"
Money wasn't what I was worried about. It'd never been an issue, not with the will Mother and Father left behind with their passing. They were undoubtedly wealthy in their time, and I guess now I understood why. They were immortal and in a way, I considered it cheating.
Alastair and I never flaunted their riches but we were never given the shorter end of the stick either. Still, money or not, the idea of leaving this town seemed pointless and a waste of the precious time we had. That was the real issue. Relocating just wasn't worth it.
"Why?" I repeated.
"You just met Evangeline," Alastair pointed out. "Do you need me to explain any further?"
I picked up my fork again, slowly tugging the pasta off with my teeth and letting the creamy sauce melt on my tongue. "Your Mother..." I began, "she's very... eccentric? And she looks..."
"She doesn't always look like that," he cut in, looking straight ahead with a stoic expression. "She gets bored. Easily. Likes to change things up."
Pursing my lips I decided not to poke the bear. For now at least. One day I wanted — no, needed — to understand his other life.
"Where would we go?" I asked instead, shaking the hair from my face that'd escaped my plait. "If we moved, where would we go? To another estate that Mom and Dad owned?"
Alastair shook his head. "Too obvious."
"Moving won't change a thing, Alastair," I told him truthfully, trying to peer around the counter to look at his face and understand a bit of what he was thinking. "And I know that you know that too, even if you try not to believe it."
When he didn't respond, or look at me, I got up from the stool and washed my bowel in the sink. I didn't say anything for a few moments, letting the running faucet drum out the silence.
"You can't stop me from reverting," I said solemnly, keeping my back to him. "It's going to happen and when it does, they'll sense an Imperial's presence no matter where we are; whether that's half way across the country or the other side of the world. Vampires and hunters will still be after me. And if your mother wants to see me dead too..." I trailed off, shrugging my shoulders and attempting to lighten the mood if at least only marginally, "Well than I guess she's just gonna have to join the cue."
It was sad really, that I was making a joke out of my own precious life. Alastair didn't seem to find it humouring either. But I knew that if I didn't joke about it, if I didn't laugh it off, if I treated it as seriously as it actually was, than that the happy smile I held high and bright would crack under the pressure and my fear would bleed out.
"You alone can't stop it from happening, Alastair," I continued. "That's why I need you to stop. You can't control what happens past the point I transition fully so please, for me," I whispered anxiously, "I'm asking you to just stop long enough to catch a breath."
Alastair ground his teeth together to the point I could hear the painful sound. "The hell I can't control it."
"Alastair stop trying to protect me from the world!" I spun around and brought my fists down hard on the counter between us. "No matter how far we go, they'll still be after me! Don't you get it?!" My loud voice dropped to a hushed whisper, face falling in remorse. "You're only going to hurt yourself if you keep going like this."
"It doesn't matter what happens to me," he said, and like he truely believed it too.
A wave of anger swept over me. I stole in a breath, nails pinching into the soft skin of my palms. "What the hell, Alastair?!" I screeched, wanting nothing more than to reach over the counter and ring his neck that very moment. "Of course it matters! It matters greatly! If anything happened to you, I wouldn't be able to survive. I can't even imagine losing you. Just the thought hurts. Stop always putting me ahead of you! Be selfish, be angry, be all about you. I hate everything being aimed at me! You make me feel like a special trinket in a shop that everyone handles with care because they don't want it broken. I'm allowed to get hurt, scratched, even damaged, Alastair. If it's going to be like this then I wish I was never born! At least then you wouldn't need to risk everything — your own life — for the likes of me!"
Alastair rounded the counter so quickly, I didn't have time to react before he suddenly drew me into his arms and held me tightly against his chest.
I was too stunned to move, looking over his shoulder with my lips parted and the rest of my angry words fading from thought. I felt the warmth of his skin on mine and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. It slowed my own, bringing it down to match his until they became one synchronised and harmonious melody.
I'd never felt warmer, his arms securely wrapped around my shoulders like he were afraid to let me go. I raised my arms and clung to him, fisting his white shirt and feeling the incredible urge to cry.
"Because I'm not worth all that," I whispered. Tears were welling in my eyes but I forced the pressure down. "Please, just for once, Alastair, think about yourself."
He let out a light laugh. "I am, Nikki. Don't you see? I am selfish. I want you. In this whole world, you're the only thing I want. When I think about myself, I see you beside me. I don't need to risk everything for you. I want to. If it means you're safe and smiling, I don't care what happens to me." His words came out a smooth murmur over my shoulder, like a calm ocean wave licking at sand on a beach. "You give me light. Without you, there is no life for me. I love you, Nikki. With everything that I am, I give myself to you. That's why I'd lay down my life if it meant you could keep living in my place. That's all I want." He buried his face in my hair. "This is the extent of my selfishness."
Tears welled further in my eyes to the point I couldn't see past the cloudiness. My heart ached painfully, emotions tearing it apart. My fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt. Idiot, I thought. Why do you have to care so much about me?
"A part of me wishes I could lock you away from the outside world," he continued, pulling back a little to peer into my blue eyes. "That way I at least know nothing can touch you."
I placed my hand over his that was cupping my cheek. "Alastair, why am I here?"
He gave me a look of confusion.
"I mean, why was I born?" I asked. "If Mom and Dad knew it was going to be this hard protecting me, why bother having me?"
He put his forehead to mine, breathing in deeply. "For me."
I let his words sink in, brows furrowed deeply as I tried to fathom what he'd meant. A part of me already felt like it understood. It believed we were connected by a string much more coarser than any other. I felt like with Alastair, it really was for eternity. But then the more rational side made me doubt whether any of it was truely real. It was like two different minds in one body.
It was the mortal and immortal sides of my heart.
"I'm not going to run and hide, Alastair," I told him seriously. "Sure I'm scared, terrified, actually, about not knowing what comes next, but..." I looked up at him with my face screwed in determination, "but I'm not going to let that fear get in the way of my happiness."
The light from the chandelier made a warm gleam swirl around the irises of his ash mauve eyes. He smiled, nodding. "That's my girl."
Those simple words of praise made a new wave of warmth settle over me. I grinned happily and that only made Alastair chuckle and pat the top of my head. Unable to help it, my eyes dropped to his lips and my own mouth tingled at the memory of when he last kissed me. I inched closer, but before I had a chance to lean up on my tippy toes he stepped back.
"I'm going out for a bit," he said, oblivious to my attempts.
I stammered. "Wha... why?"
He tilted his head to the side. "Peckish."
"I did offer you carbonara, and more than once," I stated matter-of-factly.
"Not quite the food I'm after," he mused. "I'll also see Chàntelle about a ward to place around the manor. Draven and Evangeline are well gone, for now at least. I'd be able to sense them if they were still within 500 yards of this place. It's more than probable that they'll be back though, so we need to be prepared."
I nodded softly, watching him with a fallen face as he walked away from me. But I wanted...
"Wait!" I cried, grabbing his hand at the last minute.
He turned over his shoulder. "What is it?"
"Y-you haven't kissed me..." I mumbled, averting his gaze, "since that night."
"Nikki..." he sighed, flexing his hand around my own. "Don't. We don't have time to think about romance."
I lifted my flushed face. "Why? I told you that I wasn't going to let the fear of what came after today get in the way of my happiness. Our happiness," I corrected.
I let go of him and straightened, playing with my hands nervously in front of me. Strands of black and white hair fell over my face and shielded my eyes and red cheeks.
"Or do you not want me in that way?" I asked softly.
Without warning, Alastair grasped my arms and hauled me against him. I stumbled into him. He swooped down, crashing his hot lips onto mine, cutting my gasp of surprise short.
I stood there like a statute, eyes wide and hands frozen midair.
I didn't kiss him back. It's not that I didn't want to — God knows I wanted to — it's just that I didn't know how. That first kiss weeks ago was my first; I was as inexperienced as one could get.
His grip on my biceps tightened and he pushed me back. I staggered on my feet, falling against the counter. His mouth never left mine, capturing my cries of shock. The edge of the counter dug into my back painfully but I didn't care, I was too occupied with the sparks burning to life between us to worry about anything else.
My lips began to morph to his, moving as his did. Alastair didn't care about my inexperience, he was kissing me like he wanted to kiss me, holding me flush against him so he could do as he pleased.
I didn't want it to stop.
He pulled back suddenly, his teeth sensually tugging on my bottom lip. I was startled by the primitive look in his eyes. They weren't the normal precious colour I'd grown up to love but rather a glowing, bright purple. It was a look of pure lust. His nose brushed my own and our hot breaths mingled in the air.
"Nikki," he grated, his voice a sexy and husky hush, "you couldn't possibly understand just how badly I want you."
He didn't give me a chance to respond before his mouth had descended upon mine again.
I didn't bother trying to speak, my heart full and content. Instead, I brought my arms up and wrapped them around his neck, eyelids sliding shut in pleasure. My fingers worked through his hair, pulling on the dark curly locks and bringing his face closer to mine. His hands groped my waist and my hips and slid down to massage the mounds of my ass.
A needy sound filled the air and I was shocked to realise that it was me. I kissed him harder, faster, yanking on his long hair and pulling him against me. I couldn't breathe and I didn't care.
I both squealed and giggled when he suddenly lifted me up and sat me on the counter. He was quick to hush me, parting my legs and stepping between them to claim my lips again.
I felt his hands on my thighs and an ache grew between my legs. I arched my body against him, tucking locks of black and blonde hair behind my ears as it fell in the way. I wanted friction, my ass grinding towards him. He gripped my hips, stilling me. I didn't have time to be embarrassed, not with his fingers dipping below my shirt and crawling upwards over my stomach.
He tore his lips from mine and I suddenly remembered the art of breathing. My chest rose and and fell with each ragged breath I swallowed, my fingers hooked in his silky hair. His roaming hands graced the lining of my bra and I sucked in a breath. He stopped, his hands falling back to grip my hips. His lips on the other hand found the sweet spot between my neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of wetness all the way down the slope of my neck.
I gasped when I felt his fangs graze the skin there. I thought for sure he had bitten me, but it was only when the hazy fog in my head had cleared a little that I realised it was his lips that had attached themselves to my skin and not his teeth. He sucked hard, leaving a welting mark on my pale skin that I knew would be a dark purple tomorrow morning.
He left bites like that all over my chest, pulling my shirt down to expose my cleavage only to suck hard on my skin and leave a mark in its place.
A part of me thought that it was his way of biting me. By giving me love bites instead.
A/N: Steeeeamy!
Exciting news! FINALS ARE OVER AND I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED HIGH SCHOOL AHHHHHH *happy dance*
Now I work full time every damn day it's kinda exhausting. But I want to push myself because come December 2018 I'm travelling the world and just having fun until my money runs dry! Eeee I can't wait! What are some good countries I should go to????
Fact about this story/me: I'm like really weird hey and when I watch or read something that has HEAVY ROMANCE (fav genre), I get extreme butterflies in my stomach that make me wanna throw up. No joke. I literally have to stop watching/reading and walk away for a while to cool down because I feel so sick. THATS HOW I KNOW A STORY/MOVIE IS BRILLIANT BECAUSE IT GIVES ME THIS EFFECT. It's a curse really, I'm going to throw up on my future husband when he proposes to me -_-
Published 05/11/2017