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nosferatvpussy · 3 years ago

Text

distorted lullabies [chapter XXI]

Word count: almost 13k

Warnings: the usual // +18

Pairing: Dracula x reader

AO3 link | masterlist

A/N.1: I am shamelessly posting a Christmas eve chapter on the last day of February. :D Let's all go back in time, okay. Again, huge chapter ahead

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The sudden buzzing and shaking coming from my desk made the pen I held slip so my P resembled a B. Sighing, I balled up the scribbled post-it and aimed at the bin next to my desk.

“Missed!” Called Matt from behind me when my pink post-it fell to the ground. A yellow blur passed my line of vision and dunked into the bin.

“You’re almost catching up to me,” I said over my shoulder as I set papers aside to search for my phone amidst the mess I made. “What’s that, 22 to 17 now?”

“18! I made one while you had your snack.”

I smiled as I crisscrossed stacked files and papers. Matt and I accidentally started a silent game of slam dunking trash when I hit two in a row after he missed one just after lunch. I didn’t think he was keeping score, until now.

My phone buzzing touched my metal desk lamp and it made a teeth grinding sound. I dug through my pile of mess faster, discarding the remains of my snack - a cream and strawberry scone - straight to the bin. I usually had one or two in my snack breaks when I was PMSing but these ones were too sweet and I hadn’t been able to go through half of one. Renfield stole the extra scone from my desk earlier.

My elbow bumped into a pile of files and fell with a thud to the ground before I could react.

“Fucking h- oh there you are,” I cut my mutterings and grabbed my phone. “Hey, I’m going to be a little later than I thought,” I said as a way of greeting.

“How much later?” Dracula drawled.

“Well, maybe 15 minutes until I’m done with work and 30 more in traffic.”

“I’ll come up then.”

“Come up?”

“To wait for you. Better than waiting in my car.”

“But I said I would meet you,” I protested, frowning. “You’re stealing my date.”

“I am not stealing your date, Y/N,” he chuckled. “I’m simply picking you up so you won’t have to pay for a cab. You can take me wherever you want.”

“Fine, but you shouldn’t come up. It’s late and most people have gone but it’s still the office. Just wait in the car.”

“Y/N.”

“Yes?” I prodded when he didn’t go on.

“I’m still your firm’s client. My presence is completely justified whether I’m picking you up or if I’m seeing a lawyer. Is there a problem?”

I glanced over my shoulder.

The lights in Renfield’s office were off. Home already, thankfully.

I sighed.

“Come up.”

My phone went in my purse after I ended the call and I set about organising my desk. Years of habit had me stacking files and putting them away in drawers without really taking note of what I was doing.

A date on a Monday.

In other circumstances I would ask myself what the hell was I doing but after spending the weekend cooped up at Dracula’s - as if I could possibly feel cooped up in such an immense penthouse - I needed to get out and do something.

Although he hadn’t voiced it, I was almost sure he kept us in the comfort of his home as a way to lay low after the incident at the cemetery. Not that I was complaining. We didn’t leave the bed much, and when we did we were in his living room reading together, which also didn’t last for long. When I suggested a night out yesterday I hadn’t expected him to say yes on account of him trying to be discreet, or protective. Now that he had decided out of the blue to go across London simply to pick me up at work suggested it was the latter. Discreet wasn’t a word that applied to Dracula.

The bite on my neck pulsed, suddenly causing my body to tighten. There was a pull below my navel and a shaky breath left me. I looked up at the elevator doors as I shifted on my seat.

A second later came a ding to announce Dracula’s arrival.

This was probably how Pavlov’s dog felt.

I slammed a drawer shut in my indignation, earning a hissed curse from Matt behind me. I felt Dracula’s eyes on me across the office but I resisted the temptation to look up and smile at him as I scribbled a few signatures and quite literally punched the poor stamp onto the end of files.

I thought I was over my body reacting like clockwork to him, as it did so long ago in this very same office after I was bound to him, but to sense his arrival before the elevator doors opened?

It made me feel owned.

From the corner of my eye, I tracked the movements of his long legs as he took easy strides until he stopped right next to my desk.

“You can grab the chair across from me,” I muttered. “I think Evelyn is in a meeting and won’t mind if you use her chair.” He leaned closer and I tensed, waiting for my body to light up like a christmas tree. It didn’t come. Dracula planted a light kiss on the top of my hair and stepped back, poised and waiting. I glanced up at him, quickly taking in his leather jacket and grey shirt, and relaxed as he raised his eyebrows at me. “PMS,” I sighed, using the convenient hormones excuse, though it was true. “It’s fine.”

“Maybe this will improve your mood,” he said, voice all velvet as he put two large dark green shopping bags in front of me. Even though the store’s brand faced the other side, I could recognise them by the colour alone. I’d bought clothes at Harrods only a handful of times for special occasions, and always felt guilty afterwards for spending so much.

I stood up, anger at myself forgotten as I smiled up at him.

“What’s this? A Christmas gift?” I teased.

He grinned but shook his head.

“That comes later,” he answered, shocking me. I’d expected him to mock my words. “Open it.”

I used a nail to slice through the golden seal on one of the bags and peeked inside, but alas, more mystery. Carefully I pulled out the light brown box from it and held it before me as if it had paralysed me.

In big flourished writing it read in white, Christian Louboutin - Paris .

“Oh,” I managed, still trying to process it. “This is… exorbitantly expensive. I-” I stared at him, stunned. He chuckled. My shock was apparently amusing to him. “I can’t afford this.”

I mean, I could but simply chose not to.

Who would spend over five hundred pounds on a pair of shoes? Hell, a hundred pounds was already overboard.

“Which is why it’s a gift,” Dracula said. “You can wear it to the opera. It goes with the outfit.” He fingered the other bag. “However,” he laid a hand on the shoe box “if you’re too proud to accept a gift, I can return them.”

I pulled the box to me.

“Um…” I pressed my lips together. “You can return them if they don’t fit me.”

Which was a fair possibility. My feet were calloused in some places from wearing high heels most of the time and not all pairs of shoes fit me comfortably.

Years of friendship with Mallory told me what to expect when I opened the box and reached inside but my mouth still parted when I saw the pair up close.

Classy, black leather reflected light as if it was a mirrored surface in the form of stilletto pumps with red-lacquered soles. The heels were sharp enough to poke someone’s eyes out with them and tall enough to make me sprain an ankle if I staggered. The two things that made them different to the traditional pumps were that they had little notches at the ankles, adding more edge to them, and that the insides of the shoes were also red instead of the usual black or beige I was made to expect.

“Well? Will you try them on?”

I raised my gaze to Dracula’s expectant one.

“Let me see the dress first,” I said, trying to disguise my shock for curiosity.

His grin became even larger as he pushed the remaining bag towards me. I performed the same ritual of cutting the seal with a nail and peeking inside. However, this time I caught sight of what brand - or better, designer - had signed off on whatever was inside and closed the Harrods bag, crumpling it slightly with my fingers.

“You’re kidding me!”

My voice sounded louder than I had expected and drew more curious pair of eyes towards us. I’d been ignoring my colleagues’ stares up until now but my sudden outburst made me very aware that I was opening extravagant gifts in a work environment while a client, as Dracula was known to them, smiled devilishly at my discoveries.

A few months ago, their stares could have guilted me into shunning Dracula away along with his gifts, and while being the centre of attention wasn’t something I enjoyed, I was used to it inside the office. One could argue I was never the centre of attention by having a relationship with a client, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

“Something wrong?” Dracula asked, drawing his eyebrows together.

I leaned over my desk, further crumpling the bag.

“You’re out of your bloody mind,” I accused in a low voice.

“Really? After everything, you think this is what being out of my mind means?”

“This is ridiculous. What was this, two thousand pounds?”

“It would be rude to tell how much I paid for it.”

“Nobody wears Dolce and Gabbana to the opera.”

“You will.” Dracula smiled, leaning forward and making me lean back. At least I could keep some appearance of decency in front of my colleagues. “A thanks would suffice instead of arguing.”

“I don’t think the opera is that fancy nowad-” my mutter died out when Dracula raised one disapproving eyebrow. I stared at him as I swallowed my protests. Accepting gifts was one thing but accepting overly expensive gifts was quite another. I took a deep breath to try and purge my natural instincts of acting modest. A gift can be a sign of affection, and I would take as much of that as he could give me. “Thank you.”

He narrowed his eyes as though he could tell I waged a battle inside with my pride and my desire for him, then smiled and nodded once.

“My pleasure.” He stared until I broke and gave him a small smile. “Do you want me to open it for you or are you letting pride get the best of you?”

“I can get it,” I grumbled. “I should sit down first.” I rolled my eyes, smirking and huffing as if the gift in question was a big burden to bear. I was only half-pretending.

Pulling the Harrods bag to my lap, I took the white box from within. It was longer and thinner than a shoebox. I glanced at Dracula again before I removed the lid. Wrapping paper concealed the contents and I ripped it unceremoniously to reveal its contents.

Black looks nice on everyone , was my first thought, followed closely by, this is far too small .

To be sure, I raised it by its thin straps in front of me. The cleavage was low but it was cut straight across it in a way that made it classy and not slutty. I was fine with both but the occasion begged for the first. Still, I had trouble imagining how I would fit my breasts in there, especially because they were a little fuller due to my approaching time of the month. Something ought to escape.

And then there was the trouble of the bustier that had to be laced up the back like a corset. I would have to ask Diana for help with that. She would be home in time to watch me squirm into such a tight dress.

I swung the dress over an arm to take note of its length. It looked to be asymmetric. It should reach the middle of my right calf on one side and perhaps just above my knee on the other. A lot of legs on display. A lot of skin on display, to be honest. Far more than I was used to showing on nightly outings, especially in London’s weather, but it was a stunning dress. The kind of outfit I usually saw on films and swooned over, and it would go wonderfully with the shoes.

None of my jewellery would do it justice. Maybe Diana could lend me some. Mallory would be my first option since her jewellery was usually more on the daring side than Diana’s but Mal was no longer an option.

“Bloody hell ,” exclaimed her voice, as if my thoughts had conjured my friend.

I turned on my seat to look at her, who stood before the door to a meeting room with her mouth open while she stared at the dress. From behind her, came Evelyn with an inquisitive look on her face.

“Mal, what-? Oh. ” Evelyn’s golden brows shot up to meet her hairline as she took in the dress, me, and finally Dracula. “Is that Louboutin packaging?” She asked, looking down at her own shoes, which were not Louboutins by the look of them.

My eyes searched for Mallory’s before I could stop myself. Her expression softened to one of careful blankness when she realised I was staring back. My shoulders tensed up to the point where they hurt as her eyes left mine to go up and meet Dracula’s stare, no doubt. I looked up at him, summoning my courtroom face to keep my panic at bay, and found him staring back at me instead of Mallory, as if he was worried at my reaction. My muscles relaxed slightly at that.

I hadn’t expected them to meet ever again, and now that the both of them were only metres away from each other I wondered how naive I was to think it wouldn’t happen. It was a difficult thing to admit that Mallory wasn’t a part of my life anymore but she was still present , and would be until I died in this life.

Taking a deep breath to give me strength, I looked back at Mal.

Her doe eyes were still on Dracula. I waited for her stare to turn empty as if his spell had blanked out even the memory of his face. Yet, anger appeared on her gaze, such a rare occurrence that it looked ugly on her.

For a moment, I thought she would march forward and put a finger to his face as she lectured him in true overprotective friend manner. The thought must have crossed her mind because she glanced at me but then she looked around the office and simply walked past us to her desk along with Evelyn.

I looked at the dress in my lap and felt the fabric with my fingertips, concentrating on feeling something else rather than regret and mourn for our friendship.

Even if it caused both of us embarrassment, I would’ve liked Mal to curse Dracula up and down in her limited “no swearing policy”. At least then there would be hope for us to fix things.

She would care enough to bother protecting me from someone she thought was a threat. Her silence was worse.

I blinked repeatedly to keep tears at bay as I folded the dress and closed the box.

“I love it,” I told Dracula when I stood up and put the gifts back in the Harrods bags.

His hand closed around my wrist, his thumb caressing my forearm.

“Are you sure?”

I snapped my head up, frowning.

The way he said the words made me think his question hinted at more than my being pleased with his gifts.

Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you will not talk to her? Are you sure about anything? Are you sure?

But he wouldn’t ask any of those questions. I simply wanted to hear him say them.

It would be the same as offering me a way out, which he would never do, and I would never accept, so wanting it was not only futile but stupid.

“Yes,” I breathed, turning my arm so that I could lace my hand with his. I leaned over my desk, bumping the bag with the Louboutin. I gave him a smile, which I didn’t have to force. “Thank you. I love the gifts.” I kissed the corner of his mouth. “Although, I’m pretty sure the dress won’t fit me.”

“I got the right size,” he retorted, raising his eyebrows. “I’m observant.”

“That you are but I’ll try it on later anyway to make sure,” I said. He brought my hand up to kiss my knuckles before letting me go. Then, remembering my manners I tugged Dracula around the desk and turned around to face Matthew, “Oh, Count Dracula, this is Matt, my friend from work. Matt, this is Count Dracula, my-” I glanced at the man in question and he smiled while waiting for me to complete my phrase “-boyfriend.” I hadn’t said it out loud yet, and it didn’t exactly roll off the tongue to describe him. Suddenly, eye contact was a struggle so I stared at my colleague. “Matt helped me a ton with work after Renfield took a leave of absence.”

Actually, he had been the one to pull Renfield off of me.

Matt gave me a nice smile as a thanks as he stood up and offered his hand to Dracula.

“I remember you from Seymour’s wedding. Nice to meet you.”

Right, the wedding. Where everyone witnessed the very intense making out with Dracula in the middle of the dancefloor.

Lovely.

I would never allow Dracula to enter the office ever again.

Dracula was nice enough to strike conversation with Matt after the introductions and I left them to talk while I finished up.

Minutes later, when my desk looked organised in its own disorganised way and I had files and printed cross examining basis and two closing statements in my briefcase, I stood up and gathered my things by my desk.

I turned on my heels where Dracula and Matt were talking, both of them sitting atop empty desks, and froze.

Past them, framed by the two talking men, stood Renfield with his eyes wide like a puppy’s.

“Shit,” I whispered.

He should have left. His office was off but, apparently, he’d been in Hayes’ office.

Dracula, either sensing Renfield or hearing my whisper, turned his head and looked straight at his old slave. I couldn’t see his expression but whatever it was, made Renfield’s face light up. Perhaps it was only that Dracula had laid eyes on him.

Dracula then turned and looked at me intently.

I realised he had two choices. Either ignore Renfield and humiliate him in front of everybody or play polite and acknowledge him. He would have no problem choosing the first. In fact, he wouldn’t think twice about it given the chance. So, why was he even taking the time to exchange looks with me?

He raised his eyebrows as if he was waiting for something.

Then, I understood.

He wanted me to choose for him. It made sense, after all, he had freed Renfield to earn my graces again.

I could feel Renfield’s eyes on me practically begging.

Matt’s words slowed as he took in the situation, frowning as he probably tried to make sense of it.

The door behind Renfield opened and as Hayes came out of the office, I realised the two of them were probably in a meeting. No matter the excuse the partners were pushing Renfield out, and I wouldn’t take part in any more of his humiliation.

With a knot in my throat, I nodded at Dracula.

“Ah, Renfield,” he began, letting his gaze slowly drift away from me. “It’s been a long time. How have you been? Recovering well?”

Dracula stood up, touching Matt’s shoulder briefly to excuse himself and met Renfield halfway in a handshake. Renfield’s face lit up with such liveliness that he actually grinned. Both his hands were in the handshake which became more of a forearm shake in his excitement.

It was a bit like watching a little kid getting what they’ve always wanted for christmas. I had to smile.

“They’re good friends, huh,” Matt commented in a low voice as we watched them exchange words.

“You could say that,” I said, still smiling.

Matt grabbed his backpack.

“I’m going, L/N, see you tomorrow. I like your fella. He’s nice.” He gave Dracula a once over and I frowned. I always thought Matt was straight but that was a very thorough checking out. Or, he could be straight and have a little crush on Dracula. It would be understandable. “Goodnight everybody!” He exclaimed, eliciting a chorus of farewells.

As Matt passed me, I caught sight of Hayes, a less friendly figure, heading straight to Dracula.

I’d promised him I would think about the offer about becoming a partner. I still had a couple of days to tell him my definite no but seeing as he was headed for Dracula, and not me, I figured he would question Dracula about his role in my decision.

Hayes may be taller than me and therefore had longer strides but he was still almost 70 years old, or more, so I reached Dracula and Renfield first.

“Hate to interrupt but we should get going,” I told them, giving my mentor a smile as I tugged lightly on Dracula’s arm.

“Not trying to hide your fiancée from me, are you, L/N?” Hayes said in his thundering voice. I closed my eyes briefly, feeling its punch in my gut. A double blow, considering his choice of words.

“Fiancée?” Dracula echoed, a smile clear in his tone, as he extended his hand back to Hayes.

Renfield coughed once but when his chest continued shaking, I figured that cough was an attempt to stifle a laugh.

“You can kill me now,” I whispered to Dracula. “Let’s go and you can do it.” I slanted a look at Hayes to see him extending his hand even as he walked.

“No, no, I must know what this is about.”

Hayes was almost on us. Frantic, I grabbed Dracula’s arm.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want with me if we go now,” I whispered, trying desperately to persuade him to leave.

He grinned, eyes sparking with his usual charm.

“I’ll remember that,” he murmured to me. And in a levelled voice, “Hayes, is it not? We met at the wedding briefly.”

Defeated, I pulled on my courtroom face as I watched them shake hands. I wouldn’t let Hayes' ice cold eyes see me embarrassed. He and Dracula were alike that way - if they saw a display of weakness, there was an opportunity to pounce.

“Charles Hayes, yes, and you’re Count Dracula. Made quite an impression on everybody as I remember.”

Hayes stared hard at Dracula, and he smiled back at Hayes, probably thinking it was funny that a human - one almost as tall as him, granted, but still a human - was trying to challenge him.

I had been on the receiving end of that smile many times and had found out quickly that Dracula enjoyed being defied, which meant he liked Hayes by that alone. Wonderful. Precisely what I needed.

“You’re getting married?”

Of course it could get worse. Mallory stood next to me, arms folded over her chest.

Speechless, I glanced from her to Dracula.

“It’s very new,” I managed, casting a meaningful look to watch his words. He was smiling big. “It happened after we had that discussion,” I lied. Mallory’s expression remained closed off, as if she had expected me to tell her something even after our falling out.

“When is it?” She asked.

“What?”

“The wedding.”

“Uh…”

“We haven’t settled on a date yet,” Dracula intervened, taking my hand and glancing quickly at her. Mal narrowed her eyes.

“Aren’t you going a little too fast?” She questioned, putting a humourless smile on her face.

“We have all the time in the world,” Dracula chuckled. “The engagement was sudden, yes, but there’s no rush for marriage just yet.”

I dug my nails on the palm of his hand for him to shut up. He grinned at me, telling me he was enjoying this a little too much.

“Quite,” Hayes cut in. “Especially if it means putting her career at risk.” He raised his white-reddish eyebrows up.

“It’s Y/N’s decision, Charles,” Renfield stated, straightening up to his usual partner poise to face him. There was an impersonal tone in his voice but his protective words warned to which ground they were threading. Hayes glared at Renfield, and I understood they had had this same discussion before.

“I say the Count’s opinion may have some power in this decision,” Hayes carried on.

“Oh but it doesn't.” Dracula’s smile lost a bit of its amusement to turn dry. “There is not much I can say to change her mind. What she wants, she usually gets, and what she doesn’t want…”

“Won’t happen,” I completed, giving him a tight smile. I hadn’t told him about the offer to become a partner, yet there he was clapping back at Hayes without so much a second thought. “Not without a lot of discussion, and I say this topic will not be discussed here in an attempt to make me cave under pressure,” I almost spit the words out at Hayes. His mouth twitched at my affront. “Renfield, have you not always taught me to separate personal life and professional life? Can you teach Hayes that?”

“I will be sure to remind him,” my mentor said.

“Really, Y/N?” Mal scoffed. “Personal life from professional life when-”

“Mallory,” I sighed. “I would rather not hear your opinion on this if you’re going to side with a partner in a subject you don’t even know about.”

She parted her mouth at my rudeness.

“I do know what it’s about. You told me you were quitting-”

“That’s not it, Miss Nowak,” Hayes interrupted tersely.

Her gaze paused on Hayes, Renfield and then finally me.

Mallory’s face changed as she took in his words, comprehension straightening her brows and widening her eyes. The stereotype about blonds applied to Mal in many ways but a dumb blond she never was.

Hayes blinked, obviously noticing that Mal had deduced all of it and was much sharper than he may have thought.

“Nowak, why don’t we go into my office for a minute?” He laid a hand on her shoulder and gave her a stiff smile. Knowing the scheming bastard, he was probably going to offer a raise to keep her quiet about me becoming a partner. “L/N, I expect an answer by Friday,” he was saying as he directed a surprised Mallory to his office. “A pleasure, Count. Good evening to you all.”

As they disappeared into his office, I let go of Dracula’s hand, feeling my heart at my throat.

“Fiancée?” He asked for the second time.

“Long story,” I bit out, rolling my eyes as I strode over to my desk.

“Y/N had a Freudian slip when she was offered the promotion and said she wouldn’t accept it because she’s getting married,” Renfield parroted from behind me.

“Apparently not that long,” I muttered, throwing my purse over one shoulder and carrying my briefcase in my elbow ditch so I could get the Harrods bags. “Thank you for further embarrassing me, Renfield.” The both of them chuckling made me turn around to throw them a displeased look. Dracula, though, seemed to notice that my aggravation wasn’t due simply to the awkward nature of the whole situation, because his chuckle died out and he stepped forward to take my purse and briefcase from me. “Let’s go before I blow a fuse, please.”

I just wanted to leave and be alone. In silence to forget that all of the possible outcomes to Dracula’s presence in the office had taken place at once.

“Count Dracula,” Renfield called when I started for the door. “May I be of service somehow?”

Alas, no peace was to be had.

“No.” The single word contained a world of finality. Renfield’s hopeful expression faltered. “Take care of yourself, Renfield.”

“Would that please you?”

“It would please her,” Dracula tilted his head towards me. “So, yes, it would please me, too.”

“Good, good. That’s good.” He nodded. “I’ll be retiring from office soon. Effectively next week to be precise. If you need anything-”

“I won’t call on you.”

Dracula motioned for me to go ahead of him but I wouldn’t move.

As “his master” dismissed him, Renfield’s proud puffed chest emptied. His shoulders drooped. But the worst part was seeing the light die out in his eyes.

For the first time, I had the feeling that this was the real Renfield and that the arrogant lawyer pose was merely a façade that he had worn for years. To be fair, he was arrogant and difficult sometimes, but the real Renfield was this insecure little man. Weak, as Dracula had put once, but made strong and confident by the figure of his master.

“I’m throwing you a farewell party,” I blurted. Renfield gave me a weak smile. I peered at Dracula at the corner of my eye. “It would be important for us.” I tried to convene in my stare what I couldn’t make myself speak.

Renfield’s smile grew as he realised what I was permitting through my words.

“My home is available,” Dracula said, making my mouth fall open at this kindness. “I haven’t been a party host for decades and I used to like them quite a lot.” He smiled. “You can organise it.” His eyes were on Renfield, not me.

“Of course not,” I interjected.

“Gladly, master,” Renfield said quickly, bowing his head.

I opened my mouth to fight for what seemed like the tenth time that night.

“Y/N, don’t,” Dracula muttered, his tone harsh. “I have been master for longer than you have been alive and I know how to treat subjects. You fought me once on this but no more. I released him for you, and you are allowing him back for his benefit. It has nothing to do with your morals anymore.”

My jaw hurt from gritting my teeth.

“There is no reason to be angry, Y/N,” Renfield said, approaching and pushing his glasses up his nose. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Although it hurt to hear, his words were sincere.

“Sure,” was all I could manage. “Goodnight, Renfield.”

And with that, I laced my hands with Dracula’s and hauled us both to the lift.

Sean, Mal’s old flirt, held the doors for us as Dracula and I squeezed inside the almost full elevator.

It was sacred silence as we started descending. I allowed myself to rest my head on Dracula’s shoulder and close my eyes until the doors finally opened in the lobby.

As we stepped out onto the road the wind coming from the docks cut deep, so I pulled the high neck of my sweater up to cover my cheeks. We were silent as Dracula led the way to an underground car park on the adjacent road.

We went down a small flight of stairs to reach the level where he had parked. The air smelled of spent gasoline and burnt rubber but it was warmer than outside. I rolled my sweater down to my neck.

I stared off into nothing as he paid for the half an hour of parking, swinging my gifts back and forth to feel them graze my leg, basking in the echoing silence.

“The car is just there,” he pointed at the row of cars to our left as he took my hand again. The petrol black bumper of his BMW stood out from the others, even from the silver Mercedes parked next to it. I laced my fingers with his, brushing our hands together as if I could somehow warm my fingertips on his cold skin. “Y/N.”

I kept walking towards the car.

He called my name again, louder this time. I didn’t look.

“You’re angry,” he stated.

“Stressed,” I corrected. “And a little angry, yes,” I admitted. “But not at you.”

He tugged on my hand to make me stop but I kept walking, ignoring his request and knowing very well where that could lead.

The Harrods bags collided with the car as I tried the passenger door to no effect. Dracula appeared next to me on the darkened window’s reflection. The dim light from the car park created shadows on his face, accentuating the displeasure on his black eyes.

“I’m not opening the car until you talk to me,” he muttered.

We stared at each other through the reflection. I was reminded of him in my kitchen, reflected on my microwave as popcorn spun inside it. I used to think I hated him then but I was close to falling in love already. It was that memory that made me turn around, feet twisting over each other to make the tight spin between Dracula and the car.

“I don’t want to talk,” I began, letting go of the bags in my hand, and locking eyes with him. “I’m angry at things I have no control over. Mallory’s annoyance, Renfield’s blind loyalty…” I blew out a breath. “I’m not angry at you. I’m overwhelmed. I just want it all to… stop for a second.”

My gaze fell to his lips.

My hand went to his arm where he carried my belongings and I worked on pulling them off of him. Dracula stood still, a puzzling look making him furrow his eyebrows. He let me open each of his fingers so that my purse hit the floor. The briefcase was tucked safely in the ditch of his elbow. I had to lean closer to reach it. Our noses bumped.

“A little help?” I asked close to his lips.

“You’re doing wonderfully, dear,” he said, tilting his head closer so I felt the vibrations of his voice in my skin. I tugged the strap down his forearm. Our lips touched once, twice until the briefcase fell with a dull thud. Now that there was nothing in the way, I placed that arm around my waist. His free hand came to rest on my hip without guidance. “Is that to your liking?”

“Not yet.” There were lipstick marks on both corners of his mouth and I left him another one on the middle of his lips to match. Satisfied, I leaned back and rolled down my sweater and tugged on the collar until my collarbones were exposed. “This is better.”

The black of his eyes changed upon setting on the bite he’d given me. He drew a hissed breath from between his parted mouth.

“Much.” He raised a hand to trail over the collar, his nails tickling the thin skin there. “This is the same shirt you were wearing when we went to Camden.” He closed his hand around my neck.

I joined my hands around his back to hold him tight to me.

“Yes.” I felt my breath passing inside my throat with his hand around it. Fingers caressed it, as if trying to soften the skin for him to sink his teeth in. “When you first bit me.”

“Hmm.” The ring of red grew in his eyes, swallowing the black. He bent his head.

“Drink deep, please, as you did that night,” I requested.

A kiss was placed on the healing scar, as if to cherish it. I hoped for more but he changed directions, seeking to explore the other side of my neck. I would have a twin set of scars, to match.

He kissed and sucked my skin, sending thrills of sensation to my body. The pressure of his mouth increased, tongue, lips, and the sharpness of his teeth playing with my pulse until my heart pounded and I rubbed against him with a need beyond sexual pleasure.

A flash of pain made me gasp as teeth pierced through me. Heat seemed to pour from his mouth, flashing through my veins to envelop my whole body. I felt fevered, dizzy, while the most unexpected surge of pleasure made my head fall back and my knees weaken. My pulse throbbed on my ears. His sharp teeth left my neck, only to be replaced with his tongue and lips.

He kissed. Pulled hard, and swallowed. Rapture shot from my neck to my loins with such intensity that my inner muscles clenched. A growl sounded against my throat. Then his hand slid through my hair and drew my head farther back while another suction sent more pleasure cascading through me.

Everything around me seemed to fall away, narrowing my world to nothing but the unspeakable sensation of my blood emptying into Dracula. The nothingness bled into red. Red sparking life behind my eyes, searing into my brain as a landscape appeared. High mountains, jagged and peaked with snow, and deep ravines with trickling water running on smooth stone. Forests so thick it was difficult to see through the trees. And looking over it all, surrounded by the mountains, stood a fortress, blocky except for a few jutting towers.

My arms tightened around Dracula. The simple movement melted the view, and I was glued to the car again feeling the smell of Dracula’s hair, my blood and gasoline.

I wanted to feel myself pouring into him, to be there and feel it all and not be elsewhere. The viciousness of his teeth that stripped me to the bone and that made me think of love, love, love until there was nothing left to give.

His mouth was suddenly gone. One of my legs went around his hips to bring him close, my arms lacing with all that remained of my strength.

“Do you want me to kill you?” The question was hissed to my ear.

I shivered.

A touch of rationality said to let him go and not push him. Death would be welcome in his arms. But I wasn’t ready to be the hunter and not prey. For now, being prey felt too lovely to let go of.

“Is that not what we agreed to?” was my willing answer.

“Do you think I’m joking?”

“Do you think I am?”

There was a final lick to my neck before he pulled back. Red and black eyes met mine. Mouth slick with blood and stained with the soft pink of my lipstick. His hand unwound from my hair but the one on my hip remained, tight, pressing my flesh down to meet my hip bone. He licked his lips to clean them.

“I know that you are not.” The words were muffled by his sharp teeth. “Tempting as it may be to see you as my vampire, I won’t kill you in a parking garage.”

I almost raised my hands to feel the jagged lines of his teeth but Dracula’s eyebrow raising up told me he expected an answer.

There was still some blood on his lips and chin. I could get it for him. I could lean and lick it clean.

“What difference does it make where you kill me?” I asked, tilting my head to get a little closer.

Dracula straightened to his full height, forcing me to unlance my hands from his back, and put distance between my mouth and his. His eyes were all black then, and his teeth very human.

“It makes a difference.” A pensive crease between his brows appeared and disappeared as if it were never there. The weight of his hand on my hip was gone as he raised it to swipe the blood from his chin up to his mouth. “I’m quite aware that you asked me to bite you as a way to empty out your frustrations-”

“Are you complaining?” I teased.

“Never.” He smiled at me. “I’ll take your life when you want to give it to me, not because you’re stressed and want to feel something else. It wouldn’t be fair.”

My skin hummed, raising the hairs on my arms and legs. I felt like giggling. I leaned my head on the car, smiling stupidly at him as my eyelids fluttered.

“I love you,” I told him. He tilted his head, lips curling at the corners. I wasn’t foolish enough to expect an answer, so all I did was lean forward and up to give him a kiss.

The taste of blood didn’t make me flinch. Perhaps I was growing used to it already, even if the metallic taste of my blood didn’t compare to the sweetness of his. Far too entertained by the taste of him and the soft touch of his lips, I barely heard the BMW’s alarm deactivating.

“If you keep kissing me like that,” he mumbled against my lips “there will be no date to speak of.”

I sighed as I reached for the door behind me and pulled on the latch. As it unlocked, I broke the kiss.

“Off we go then,” I said, a little dizzy, as I slid into the passenger’s seat. As I settled in, Dracula collected all my things from the ground and put them in the boot. Kicking off my shoes, I folded my legs under me to get a little more comfortable and leaned on my side. “You know how to get to South Bank from here?” I asked Dracula when he opened his door.

“I believe so.” He eyed me as he sat. “You made me take more blood than I should have.”

“I’m fine.” Through heavy lids, I fumbled with the car’s system to get a song playing. Depeche Mode came on.

“Why don’t we go home?”

The way he said it implied that it was our home. I closed my eyes.

“No, I planned this. I’ll just rest my eyes until we get there. It should take about half an hour.” I gave him a small smile as I wrapped my arms around myself. “I’ll be good as new.”

_______________________________________________________________

A glaring light pierced through my shut eyelids. I turned my head, trying to shy away from it and extend my sleep for a while longer but the light simply followed me. Sighing, I slit my eyes open, squinting at a lamppost.

“We’re here,” Dracula said.

I stared at him, maybe a little too long because he raised his eyebrows at me.

“Still waking up, sorry,” I explained, taking note of what was around me. The only light came from the lamppost above the car since the blue lights from the dashboard were off, and Depeche Mode’s music was off. I was pretty sure some of it had taken part in my dream, unless a dancing Dave Gahan clad in leather had really appeared in the office earlier that day and I simply accepted it as normal. My gaze stopped on the phone in Dracula’s hands. His feet were off the pedals and he sat comfortably back. “We’ve been here for a while, haven’t we?”

“I tried waking you up once before but you slapped my hand away.” He chuckled. “I figured it was better to let you sleep a little more than to invoke your bad mood from earlier.” He put his phone away. “It’s almost 9. If you’re too tired-”

“Fully awake!” I straightened on my seat right away. He smiled at my sudden willingness. “I promised you a date and we’ll miss it if we sit here talking. Just need my purse-” He pointed at it, sitting between us. “Ah, good.” Angling the rearview mirror towards me, I took a look at my hair, and just as expected, it pointed at odd directions. I ran my fingers through it. “I suppose keeping it a secret where I’m taking you is pointless now that you drank my blood again.”

“I don’t always absorb your memories,” he countered. I stopped fixing my hair for a second to look at him. “It’s a conscious choice. But I did this time,” he admitted. “Since you wouldn’t talk, I wanted to know why you were upset. None of your plans for the night appeared in your blood, though.” He widened his eyes, pretending ignorance.

“I know you’re a better liar than that.” I laughed. “It’s not like I could’ve hidden the London Eye from you anyway. You’ve never been, right?”

“I haven’t,” he said, reaching for his door. It clicked shut not a moment later, with Dracula gone from his seat. One of these days, he was going to rip that door off its hinges. He abused it with his speed too often. My door opened. “As I understand, you’ve never been to it either.” He offered me his hand.

“My parents tried taking me as a child but I used to be scared of heights,” I explained, supporting myself on his forearm to get out of the car. I took a moment to evaluate where Dracula had parked and situated myself. The glittering lights on the Thames winked at me from between a narrow road just across us. “That way,” I nodded towards it. The car’s alarm clicked on as we headed out, our arms intertwined. “By the time I was a teenager, I lost my fear of heights but then I was too ‘cool’ to go to a ferris wheel. And you just forget about it when you live here.” I shrugged. “It’s just a little piece of London that’s overcrowded with tourists all days of the week.” As I finished my sentence we stepped foot in the walkway, and I smiled triumphantly. “But not tonight.”

Only a handful of people strolled along the Queen’s Walk, and most of them seemed to be heading home. We passed between naked trees and twisted branches to approach the riverside railing and London was presented to us glimmering in the dark murky waters of the Thames. The mix of contemporary buildings spiking through old architecture was jarring to the eye at first but they composed such a wonderful show of lights and lines on the sky that it was easy to ignore the contrast.

Dracula slowed his pace, seemingly taken by the view, and let me lead him towards the blue pods of London Eye circling slowly a few metres away. Beyond it, Parliament and Big Ben shone a blinding yellow far across the river. We remained in silent admiration as we walked.

To my left, wheels scraped the ground, drawing my attention to a group of teens skateboarding in the graffitied undercroft of Southbank Centre. Their voices echoed in the space, as did the rolling boards, and I heard parts of their excited conversation as they celebrated a successful trick.

“You’re mine but I don’t own you, Y/N.” It was said softly but it had me whipping my head from the skaters to look at him. Nothing in his expression changed as he continued gazing across the river. “I never will.”

I had forgotten all about feeling like Pavlov’s dog reacting to the bell but it must have bothered me more than I thought to be ingrained in my blood.

“I know that,” I replied. “The bond is gone, and has been for some time now, but I believed it was there for so long. It’s difficult to explain but, I can feel you.” He glanced at me. I slid my arm from his hold to lace my fingers with his. “Not like this. I think- I used to think being close to you was what triggered the bond. In the beginning, it probably was. But tonight in the office, I felt you. Here.” I touched my middle. “I thought it was some leftover of the bond.”

“I feel you, too.” I looked at him. “You have a very similar effect on me, Y/N. It’s blood. Yours is inside me, constantly now, and you’ve had too much of mine.”

“A different kind of bond.”

“You could say that.”

“At least it’s not one sided now,” I muttered.

He chuckled.

“Do you really think it was one sided?”

My mouth went slack.

“It wasn’t?”

“Of course not. Difference is you tried to control it. I never did.”

I searched for words, and found none. All the questions that popped up, I already had the answers for, and if not, I didn’t want to hurt myself with them. It was much better to believe that the bond worked in the exact same way on his end.

Dracula went back to admiring the city just as quickly as he had started the subject. Easier that way.

Once we reached the London Eye, both of us tipped our heads up to take in its height, walking slowly so we wouldn’t bump into the few people that stood in line with us.

“How long has this been up?” he asked as we followed the ramp.

“It was opened to celebrate the turn of the century, so a little more than 20 years. It was the biggest one in the world for a time.”

“There are bigger ones?”

“Much bigger, I hear.”

As we approached the platform, the two people dressed as staff looked tiredly at us and the two groups ahead. They probably expected to go home and here we were for the last rides of the day.

The lights from the pods bathed everything in blue. I watched fascinated as the wheel turned at such a slow pace that people simply walked out of the glass pods once they reached the platform.

“I didn’t know it doesn’t stop,” I murmured.

People were ushered in by the staff in one pod, and I quickly fished for my phone inside my purse. Approaching the girl in uniform, I showed her that I had pre-booked a private capsule for tonight.

“Sure,” she said, looking from me to Dracula. “Will you take the champagne and chocolates as well?”

“Just the chocolates, please.”

“You can take the bottle home if you like,” she offered.

“Oh.”

“We’ll take it for later,” Dracula cut in.

At that, the girl left to get them.

“You don’t drink, though,” I said, looking at him inquisitively.

“No, but you can drink it and then I can drink you.” He grinned. “Almost as good as wine.”

“Food alters how I taste?”

“You are what you eat.”

“Of course.” I chuckled, rolling my eyes.

Box of Swiss chocolates in hand and the bottle in Dracula’s grasp, we walked in on the next pod. The door closed itself as, ever so slowly, the wheel drifted in its axis. It would take a good while until we were high enough to see London from above, so I pulled Dracula to take a seat with me on the backless metal bench that stood right in the centre of the capsule.

A smile touched Dracula’s face as he looked about, eyes gaining a boyish glimmer to them until they settled on me.

“This is a little how I imagined Captain Nemo’s submarine,” he told me, setting the champagne bottle next to his foot. His voice hit the rounded walls, echoing much like it had in Gloucester Cathedral. “Well, a part of it.”

“It does look like a tiny submarine,” I agreed, analysing the oval glass panels and iron structure around us. “A pocket sized Nautilus, if you will. The Nautilus doesn’t look much like this in the original, though. Mallory’s edition has illustrations from the 1800s. It’s really pretty. Mine is simpler.” My chest tightened. Grabbing the chocolate box, I set it between Dracula and I. Chocolate heals all. For a few minutes, at least. Aware that Dracula watched me as I opened a truffle, I carried on before he asked me about another one of my exasperating thoughts from that night. “You took me somewhere when you bit me. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“What do you mean?” He knitted his eyebrows.

“When you bit me, I saw a place. Mountains, a thick forest and-”

“My castle, yes. I meant, what do you mean you didn’t know I could do that? I’ve done it before to you.” I shook my head as I threw the truffle in my mouth. Hm, cherry. “After Camden,” he continued.

“Well,” I drawled, containing a smile. “Didn’t work.” Dracula kept staring at me, the most bewildered look behind his eyes. I pushed the truffle to the corner of my mouth where it could melt and allow me to talk. “To be fair, I blacked out after it so I might just not remember it.”

He stood up and went to stare out at the river. His head almost reached the ceiling.

“You would remember.”

“I’m sorry? Although I don’t see how it could be my fault.”

“To my knowledge, this has never happened before.”

“Maybe it has to do with the circumstances,” I offered. He turned around to face me and leaned on the glass wall, crossing his ankles before him. I let my eyes drift over him. “I trust you now. We had just met back then. I had my guard up.”

“Maybe,” he conceded.

“Are you pissed about it?”

“Pleased, actually. You have good self-control, which I sometimes lack. I do enjoy indulging myself.” A grin full of teeth. “You pushed me out today. Took control. I’m used to being in control of others.”

“And I don’t like being controlled,” I said pointedly.

“Well aware. I was only trying to help when I did that.” I nodded to acknowledge it. “Control is good for when you become a vampire, Y/N. In the right situation, you might be even a little better than me in that department. Though, you still have much to let go of.”

“Why must I give up control?” I asked. “You just said it’s a good thing.”

“Why must you have it?” He tilted his head.

I picked another truffle and threw it in my mouth to save myself from giving him an answer.

Why, indeed.

“Why your castle?” I asked when I swallowed the truffle.

“First thing that came to mind,” he replied, shrugging. I waited for more. We stared at each other. But he simply raised his eyebrows at me, as if expecting me to answer his question first.

Behind Dracula, the city lights grew smaller as the world lowered around us and we slowly gained height on the tall buildings across the river. Leaving my truffles on the bench, I stood up, assuming defeat in our staring contest, and made Dracula turn around to gaze at the view.

In a low voice, as if there was a need to keep this a secret, I pointed at the places I recognised and told him what lied beyond them all. More than once, he mistook where I was pointing to because of our difference in height, so I had to stand on my tiptoes to try and calculate his point of view. He smiled big each time I did that and I had to fight chuckles as I explained how to find Tower Bridge from here.

“And there-” I drew out as I pulled him to the narrow spot in the capsule “- you can find Trafalgar Square and a little to its right the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden, where we’re going to go this week. And see, over there, no, beyond it. The big, big roofs, that’s Buckingham Palace, I think. Hm.” I put my hands on my hips. “I’m doing pretty good with this tour guide thing, aren’t I?” Dracula laughed at my proud stance and I gave him a smile. “Seriously. I wasn’t aware how good my sense of direction actually is. Besides, I didn't think we’d be able to see this much at night but London is much brighter from up here than I thought.”

Beneath us, so distant that it almost seemed small, the Thames glittered like a blanket of stars. I touched my forehead to the curved glass, staring down and wondering how I could ever have had a fear of heights. It was such a silly thing.

“Let’s go sit,” Dracula said, wrapping a hand around my arm.

I stood up straight.

“What, why? You don’t like it?” I rubbed my forehead where the glass left a cold imprint.

“No, no. I love it. But I can hear your heart rate and you’ll pass out at any moment now.”

“I feel fine,” I protested. He raised an eyebrow. “Swear! I was just thinking how I’m long past my fear of heights.” As if to contradict my own words, white spots appeared on my sight and I blinked to clear them.

“I’m thinking blood loss along with heights wasn’t the best combination,” he said as he gently put an arm around my waist. My feet were heavy as I took a step. London’s lights smeared together for a second. Finding support in his arms, I nodded for him to lead me. He pushed the box of chocolates to the floor so the bench would be free, and I huffed as I saw a truffle roll out. Perching on the corner of the bench, he made me sit next to him. “Now lie down with your head on my lap, and let’s get your legs up before you go out on me.” With one hand on my back and another on my waist, he eased me down until my head rested on his thigh. Then, he reached down and fit his arm behind my knees and lifted my legs up into the air.

I giggled as I looked up at him, vision blurring once again so that he was a mass of blue lights and dark hair.

“Are you sure that’s going to help?” I asked, closing my eyes. Keeping them open was worse.

“I killed a doctor yesterday,” he said. “He knew how, so I know too.”

“You were with me all day yesterday.”

“Not all night, though. I slipped out to grab a bite” he chuckled in the word “when you were asleep.”

“I see,” I said simply. I bounced my feet up in the air, testing if Dracula could keep my legs up even through the movement. His fingers pinched the back of my right knee and I stopped. “I was so scared when you said you could just take my memories.”

“I know.”

“It bothered me much more than you just simply drinking my blood,” I commented. “Now, I don’t think I mind it much. Spares me from having to explain my thoughts and feelings.” I tried opening my eyes and immediately closed them again when the world spun and my head swam. “Could you do it from the start? Drink people’s memories?”

“I learned over the years. It’s a skill I had to shape.” His hand rested on my forehead, his thumb caressing my temple. “The hunger was blinding at first and I couldn’t concentrate on much except the taste of blood. Later, I started taking notice of images and sounds that I hadn’t lived through appearing in my mind when I drank someone. I saw the sun after years through someone else’s memories.” He sighed. “I even felt the warmth on my skin. That was incredible. So I became obsessed. I must’ve killed entire villages to experience the same thing. Then, I started travelling and I found I could not only take their memories but learn from them. It took me nearly a decade until I completely mastered it, then I was speaking someone’s native tongue as if I was a native myself. Finding their lives ingrained in their blood. Playing an instrument, driving a car, using a phone. Acting like a doctor if I want to. It’s all easy now.”

“Playing an instrument,” I repeated. “Is that why you killed Chopin? So you could play as well as him?”

“Part of it, yes. He truly was a prick. If I hadn’t killed him, someone else would,” he said with clear disgust in his voice. I laughed. “Everything fades, though. Lives get replaced and I lose their skills. I can retain some of it if I decide to apply myself in truly learning something. ”

“That is actually very cool,” I commented. “Do you think I’ll be able to do it?”

“I don’t know. Probably,” he offered. “My creations before weren’t capable of much as I’ve said but everything has been different with you so far. I won’t compare you to them.”

I squinted as I tried opening my eyes again, willing my body to obey my wishes and stop swaying. It took a few blinks until I could completely make out the shape of Dracula’s face above mine. I watched him watch the night outside and smiled to myself, knowing full well he was giving me the opportunity to gaze at him without getting caught.

“I’m getting better, you know, in giving into impulse,” I muttered, surprising even myself for going back to a subject we had dropped already. “I still have to think about it sometimes but I go through with it. The cemetery for example-”

“That took some persistence on my part,” he interrupted.

“But it counts,” I countered, pushing my legs down and planting my feet on the bench. Dracula’s arm lingered for a moment behind my knees before he wrapped it around my waist. “I don’t give in to my every desire as I suspect you do.”

“It’s quite fun. Good for the soul.”

“I’m beginning to think so. Diana even said I’m less controlling,” I said, voice dying out when Dracula looked at me, eyes narrowed with what I thought was criticism. “What?”

“You said it yourself tonight that you lost your temper because of things you cannot control.”

“That was different.”

He nodded, a smile curling on his lips.

“Do you remember what I asked you in Camden?”

“You asked me several questions,” I answered.

“About being afraid to die.” He raised his eyebrows. I shook my head to the sides. “You said that death didn’t matter, that it just happens to people and that one day you would die as does everyone else.”

“Except I won’t die anymore,” I murmured. “I’m still not afraid to die if that’s what you think. If someone were to shoot me right now, I’d like to think I’d be fine with it. Not much to protest about when you’ve got a bullet in your skull, is there?” I scoffed. “No, death doesn’t particularly scare me when it simply ends but it’s different in this case. I’ll last forever. You know your last attempts to make more vampires failed-”

“I won’t fail again.”

“I trust that,” I said, grabbing his wrist to put weight on my words. “But you see that my only option involves living forever after dying, and I don’t know- I don’t know who I’ll be. Some creature that just thirsts for blood? A shadow of myself as were your experiments? Or a killer like, like-”

“Like me?” He offered. I nodded. “You’ll want to kill. You’ll crave it, and one day might come that you do, despite your wishes not to. I’ll teach you how to drink someone and let them live but a moment will come where I’m not next to you for guidance. It can happen, yet that alone won’t make you a killer.” His hand slid down my head until his fingers twined inside my hair and he massaged my scalp. “You’re not cruel by nature, Y/N. Even if you can’t resist the urge to kill, you can still do it with kindness if you so wish.”

Death could be kind at times, I could agree with that, but being the bringer of death while being kind was something to grow used to, if I could.

“Do you think you’re cruel by nature?” I asked him, peering curiously at him from between my eyelashes.

Slowly, he nodded his head.

“Yes and no. I was made to be cruel. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have grown up to be a man. I was held captive for a few good years of what you would call now my adolescence. That’s how I learned to be cruel. It was my cruelty that saved me many many times. Saved my people, too. I killed and tortured thousands to save other thousands. But I enjoyed all of it, so yes, I am also cruel by nature.”

“How old were you when you were a captive?”

“On the first time, 14 or 15. The second time, maybe in my 30s. ” He shrugged. “When I was young, my father gave my brother and I to the Ottomans to prove his loyalty.” He smiled wryly at the look I gave him. “It’s not that shocking. It was us or our land would be decimated.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” I muttered simply, unsure of what to say.

“Two, actually. My older brother stayed with my father because he was next in line to rule, so me and Radu were sent to the Sultan. Radu was about 7.”

“Did your father do anything to get you back?”

“Kissed the ground the Sultan walked on,” he scoffed. “There was nothing he could do. He agreed to it. I only saw him once after the Ottomans took me and Radu, then one day, when I was almost 20 I think, my captors told me my father and Mircea were killed by enemies and that made me the rightful ruler.” He tapped his fingers on my ribs rhythmically. “Do you want to guess what they did?”

“Tried to kill you too?”

“Probably would have been smarter but no. Because Radu was so young when we became hostages he was easier to manipulate. He was soft, shy, and was never taught to be a warrior. They could’ve killed me and made Radu prince, but it wouldn’t work. Radu would have to fight to conquer his throne and the boy trembled at the sight of blood.” He shook his head. “No. They helped me get the Wallachia throne back. They fought battles for me. Of course, all my years in captivity I pretended to obey the Ottomans when I realised I couldn’t fight them all, but I swore I would kill every one of them.”

“And you did,” I added.

“I did.” He smiled big, proud. I smiled back.

“What happened to Radu?”

“Oh, he grew out of his shyness eventually and tried to take my throne from me after I turned on the Ottomans. Took him years but he did it with their help. I had to resort to help from the king of Hungary and was imprisoned by him for almost 15 years. Alas, he was too much of a coward to wage a war that he thought wasn’t his. Until it was. The Ottomans laid claim on Wallachia and would soon attack Moldova if someone couldn’t help defend them. You see, Moldova was an ally to him and he couldn’t ignore them but he wouldn’t go himself to assist them, so he freed me.” I nodded for him to go on. “I simply continued fighting a war I’d been fighting most of my life and the king could just stay and wait.”

“Did you kill him?” I asked.

Dracula’s hand on my hair continued brushing.

“After I became a vampire, yes. I fed on him slowly for weeks and watched him go mad, then I killed him.”

“And your brother?”

“I impaled him.” He sighed. “He died like a Turk should.” He set his dark eyes on mine, staring, challenging me to say something.

“Do you think I’ll run scared at any moment now?”

“You used to be scared of the things I’ve done.”

“Sometimes I don’t agree with the things you’ve done but I don’t think any less of you for killing your brother as you did,” I said, raising my eyebrows to how right that rang. Testing my body, I tensed and moved to sit up. Dracula’s hands accompanied me, just shy of pushing me up. I turned around so that we sat shoulder to shoulder and faced the London’s night sky. “Can you show me?”

“Show you what?”

“Everything you just told me, like you showed me your castle when you bit me.”

“Y/N, if I bite you again now, you will pass out. ”

“I know, I know.” I snuggled closer, fitting an arm between his ribcage and leather jacket. “I thought maybe you could show me through your blood.” I stole a glance at him. He sat still, staring out to London. But I saw his lips curl slightly at my suggestion and knew he was paying close attention. “I would like to see it through your eyes.”

“Why?” He glanced back.

“I’m curious.”

“You won’t like what you see.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t expect to. It won’t change a thing. I just want to see and to know you. You know everything about me. I want to know everything, too.”

“It won’t work.”

“Have you tried it before?”

His lips thinned as he paused.

“No,” he finally said. “But you don’t have the power.”

“You do, and you’re giving it to me. You said it yourself, life is ingrained in blood. I’ll drink and you’ll pull your little trick of taking me somewhere like you did earlier.”

We locked eyes and I raised my brows, waiting. He licked his lips, tilting his head.

“Is this just an elaborate excuse to drink my blood?”

“Maybe.” I chuckled. “If you prefer I could simply ask. Does ‘may I please drink your blood, master?’ work?”

He narrowed his eyes, leaning closer.

“Don’t talk like that,” he warned in a low voice. “The cameras in here actually work and while I don’t care about them, I do still hold some respect for your dignity.”

I laughed, cheeks burning at what he’d suggested.

“Shiver me timbers,” I said through laughs. “Hold that thought for when we get home. So will you show me?”

Dracula touched my arm around him and I let go. Eyes fixed on mine, he removed his leather jacket, exposing his dark grey shirt. He unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up his forearms. I watched his tendons move, highlighting scars on his skin I had never seen before. The nail of his thumb grew sharp as it touched his left wrist and I realised what he was about to do. My mouth watered.

Pavlov would really have loved me as a test subject.

“And the camera?” I asked after swallowing the saliva that pooled around my tongue.

“It’s behind us. Turn around and put your back to my chest,” he ordered, and slid away from me on the bench so he could swing a leg over it. He opened his arms in wait. “It’ll look like an embrace.” Taking a deep breath, I turned my back on him and pushed to fit in between his legs. I went to look over my shoulder at him and caught myself before I bumped my nose on his mouth. His arms wrapped around my chest, bringing me closer until I was leaning on him. I shifted a little, bumping my hips with his. “Behave.”

“I am,” I complained. Before me, he pushed his sleeves further up his arms until they were bunched around his elbows. Then, his hands wandered down to my legs, wedging them apart. “What happened to your respect for my dignity?” I asked, smirking.

His laugh tickled my ear.

“This is more comfortable,” he said as he tugged my right leg over the bench. His hands caressed the sides of my legs. “I don’t think what you’re suggesting will work, but whether it does or not, I won’t deny you.”

Raising his hands before me again, his thumb nail cut a deep line across his left wrist. Blood poured out. Saliva inundated my mouth again. I had a second to notice the blood looked quite purple in the blue light when Dracula brought his wrist closer. He held me to him, his arm below my ribs.

I took his forearm with both hands as I sealed my mouth over his wrist and caught those first drops of blood with my tongue. The taste made me close my eyes in delight. Sweet and sharp, and warm this time. Warm with my own blood that I had given him earlier. I swallowed slowly, feeling it coat my whole mouth and slide down my throat. And again. But soon enough, not enough blood seemed to pour out from the wound and I found myself sucking the skin of his wrist into my mouth, teeth sinking in to find purchase as my tongue flicked up the wound.

Dracula’s hold tightened as he moaned in my ear. The hairs on my neck stood up in response. He said my name as I gulped down more of his blood. His legs pressed against mine. On every gulp, my body grew warmer and I was all too aware of my clothes rubbing against my skin, of my breath in my lungs, of my own blood pulsing through my veins. I felt it.

“It’s not working,” he murmured.

“Try harder,” I retorted, my lips brushing his wrist and surely staining them red. “I’m not stopping until you tell me to.”

“I didn’t tell you to stop last time-ah.”

I pulled on his wrist and swallowed a little more hurriedly than before as more blood than I expected gushed out from the wound. When Dracula moaned again, I joined him.

Nothing compared to it. Not a single thing that I had ever tasted.

His fingers found skin beneath my shirt, drawing a slow path up. I flicked my tongue down his wrist as his hand found my breast. He played with a nipple through the fabric of my bra, and pinched hard. I yelped as I tried to shrink away from his brute touch, almost climbing onto his lap. I pulled even harder on his wrist. Dracula let up. Blood escaped on the corners of my mouth. Quickly, I swiped my hand under my chin before it dripped. Once the blood flow slowed to a trickle, I licked my hand clean as if I was a hungry creature.

Dracula kissed my jawline as I took my mouth to his wrist again. I started licking his blood away slowly, enjoying every nuance of his blood on my tongue and how it began burning on the way down.

“Y/N…” he began, my name just a moan in his mouth. “Stop.”

“But-” I sealed my lips over his wrist again. Dracula’s chest pressed against my back as he took a breath. I felt him tensing. He pinched me again, and tugged. I squirmed.

“We’re almost all the way down,” he informed as he relaxed his embrace and slowly withdrew his hand from beneath my shirt. “You have to.” I caught his arm slipping from me and held it around me. He left it there and embraced me, but dodged my grasp on his wrist when I leaned towards it. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes. The roofs of the buildings across the Thames were no longer visible. Instead, the riverbank was close enough so I could spot garbage strewn on some dark corners. More time must have passed as I drank his blood than I imagined.“It didn’t work, did it?”

“No.” I sighed as I ran my tongue between my teeth, searching for a lingering taste of his blood. “But to be fair, I don’t think either of us were trying very hard.”

“Agreed.” Dracula chuckled. “We can try again some other time.” He shifted his weight, putting him farther from me. I looked around my shoulder in time to see him standing up, towering above me. “Look at you,” he said, smiling wide as his eyes analysed my face. “I expected more of a mess but there’s even less than last time.”

“Last time I almost drained you completely,” I protested. “You only gave me a few gulps now.” He leaned and held my jaw with one hand as he used his fingers to rub any stains away from my chin and lips. I eyed his belt curiously. “Shame.”

“What is?” He asked, concentrated on cleaning my face.

“You didn’t get as excited as last time,” I teased, smirking.

His thumb stopped near my upper lip, pulling it to the side, when he seemed to register what I said and where I was looking at.

“I do have some self-control. Like I said, your dignity matters.” He paused, eyes sparking with a mischievous glint. “Until we get to the car, of course.”

“Of course,” I agreed, imitating his serious tone. “When I have fangs, I’m going to bite you all over.”

“Good.” Holding onto my jaw, his other hand caught me by the nape of my neck as he brought my lips to his. His mouth greeted mine with a demand that made me push against his tongue and drive my feet down to the floor so I wouldn’t fold under his force. When he pulled back suddenly, my lips were left searching for his as I gasped for air. “We have the same things in mind.”

____________________________________________________________________________

A/N.2: A moment of silence for one chapter of abstinence. Kinda mean to end it there, but don't worry, of course there's more dirty dirty things to come. I needed this chapter to highlight other aspects of their relationship without getting overshadowed by the horny bits.

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thebearmage · 2 years ago

Text

Closed Eyes (Please Open Them)

Five Hargreeves x GN!Comatose!Reader

Part Two of One Mistake (is All it Takes)

Summary: After Cha-Cha's attempt on your life, you are admitted to the hospital. You are alive, but you are far from okay. Five sits with you, refusing to leave. His only company is his own regrets.

Warnings: Angst, HEAVY angst, injuries, hospital and medical equipment, Five being sad

READER AND FIVE ARE 18+

MASTERLIST

Five was shaking.

He was sitting in his room, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. A mug of something hot in between his numb fingers. He hasn't moved. Not since Diego had dragged him out of your apartment building a few hours ago.

Five was still in his bloody clothes, he was looking at the blood on his pants. It's yours. Your blood...you're blood on his clothes....your blood staining his skin....your blood all over the floor...all over you...everywhere....everywhere.....EVERYWHERE!!!

Five gasps as he finally snaps himself out of his shock-induced trance. He pants, letting the mug slip through his fingers, crashing onto the floor.

Someone comes rushing into the room. It's Vicktor, he gasps softly and kneels in front of Five.

"Five, hey look at me," he gently takes Five's hands, "Hey, it's Vicktor, can you hear me?"

Five slowly focuses on Vicktor, sighing, "Yeah,"

Vicktor looks at Five in sympathy, "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

Five nods numbly. Vicktor leads him to the bathroom.

"How is..." Five's voice cracks. He's scared to ask the question, "Are they...?"

Vicktor nods, "They're alive. Last we heard from the hospital, they went into surgery. We have to wait until they're done before we see them,"

Five nods, his breathing slowed a bit. You were alive. You were alive.

The relief slowly fades when the second part of Vicktor's sentence clicks into his mind.

Five swallows. You were not out of the danger zone yet.

Vicktor helps Five clean up and change clothes. After that, the family drives to the hospital.

Allison walks up to the desk, her brothers trailing behind her.

"Hey, we're looking for Y/N L/N,"

The nurse nods, "They just got out of surgery, it went well," The umbrella academy sighs in relief but the nurse looks at them sadly.

"Oh no, I know that look," Klaus says,

"What's wrong?" Luther asks,

The nurse sighs, she gesture for the family to follow them as they walk down the hallway.

"Y/N was brought to us in critical condition," she states, "Several stab wounds to the stomach and sides, bruised ribs, a bruised lung, and some trauma from being attacked or hit. They're body showed us signs of torture as well,"

Five's blood was boiling. The quick death he gave Cha-Cha was a reward compared to what he wished to do now.

The nurse stops at the door, "They lost too much blood on the way here and during surgery. They...fell into a coma,"

The Umbrella Academy gasped in horror. Ben and Allison cover their mouths with their hands. Luther and Klaus look down. Diego curses before putting a hand on Five's shoulder.

Five...looked crushed. The mask he normally wore around others shattered into pieces at those words. Tears filled his eyes as he gasps a bit.

"When will..." he takes a breath, "When will they wake up?"

The nurse shrugs, "We don't know. It's possible that they won't,"

Five chokes on a sob and blinks into the room. The nurse is startled but the others slowly open the door to peak inside.

Five is staring at your broken and battered body. Bandages were wrapped around your arms and fingers. Five could assume there were more covering your chest and legs. There was a few tan bandages on your face, covering smaller cuts.

There were so many different IVs and wires connected to you, each hooked up to a liquid or machine keeping you alive. You were on life support; a tube was down your throat, peaking out of the side of your mouth. You lips were closed limply around it. There oxygen tubes in your nose, helping you breath.

For a heart stopping moment Five realized those tubes could be the only thing making you breath. He stands, frozen, breathes coming quicker and quicker.

Then, to the shock of his family (sans Diego, who'd had seen Five earlier), Five bursts into sobs, rushing over to you.

He doesn't say anything at first. He just grabs your free hand and sobs loudly, gently moving some hair out of your face with a trembling hand.

"No..." He pleads, "No....please...."

Five collapses into a chair next to you. His legs no longer able to hold him. He buries his face into your stomach, gently wrapping his arms around you, and wails. Screaming his sorrow and pain into your hospital gown.

———————❖———————

Days ticked by, slowly turning into weeks. The doctors were loosing hope for your recovery, saying you most likely have gone brain dead.

Five wouldn't listen, he was by your side every hour. The doctors stopped trying to kick him out after he'd blinked into the room after visiting hours multiple times.

The doctors told him that talking to you might help. So, as he sits next to you, on day 18, he mumbles to you.

"Hey, baby. It's me. It's Five," he says, "I...I um...I hope you can hear me," Five sniffs, taking a pause, "I really do. So, whatever your dreaming about, I can be there with you,"

Five slowly covers your hand with his, "I have some good news," he laughs a little, "I should have told you ages ago...but...um...it's past April 1st.....we've stopped Doomsday,"

Five swallows, his throat was dry, "We learned about Viktor's powers. Apparently he was the bomb to end the world. But, uh, he's to worried about you right now,"

Five laughs humorlessly, "You've saved the world," he says, voice choked, "By nearly dying," he lets out another laugh, "You're a goddamn hero, Y/N,"

Five's laughter slowly dissolves into sobs, "God...I miss you so much," he murmurs, "So...so...fucking much! So much it hurts!"

Five tries to wipe his eyes, but the tears keep falling, "You've needed this rest, though," he admits, "You've been so overworked since I came back,"

Five buries his face in his free hand, "It's all my fault! I dragged you into this! I wasn't there for you when you needed it! I pushed you away! I said those horrible things to you!"

Five sobs brokenly, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Five desperately but gently squeezes your hand, "I've got you, I'm not letting go! I have your hand, your small lifeless hand," he hiccups slightly, "Oh god why is so lifeless!?"

He brushes some hair out of your face, sobbing and looking into your closed eyes, "Please wake up....please wake up,"

He lets his head drop onto your chest as he weeps. His hand ever letting go of yours.

The sound of your heart monitor beeping faster catches his attention, he gasps softly as he looks up.

"Baby?" he cups your face, "Y/N?"

You slowly wince due to the harsh light as it slowly filters into your awareness. Your eyes are not open yet but you can sense the brightness behind your closed lids,

You try to speak around the tube in your mouth, and then sigh in defeat when you can't. One would expect that you'd be panicking, but you had hear (most of) everything while unconscious. You had been aware that you were in a coma, and you had been aware of the tubes and wires attached to you (it caused a LOT of discomfort, thank you very much).

Five was in disbelief, gasping as he gently cups your face, "Y/N?"

Despite the harsh light, you slowly crack open your eyes to look at him. You smile as best you can.

Five laughs, this time it's a happy sound, and rushes forward to kiss your forehead, "Hey," he says, more tears coming to his eyes. You slowly reach up your heavy arm to brush the tears away and he cradles your arm against his face.

"You're okay, you're okay," he mumbles like a mantra, "I'm here...and you're here with me," he half sob, half laughs and looks up at you.

"Morning sleeping beauty," you give him a deadpan look at that line and he snickers wetly.

The doctors come rushing in a moment later. Once they get the tube out you turn to Five and breath,

"...bright," your voice is cracked and dry due the tube and lack of use. Five blinks to the light switch and flicks it off, earning a few glares from the doctors, he just maintains eye-contact until they turn back to you.

Once the doctors clear out, Five sits down next to you again, smiling from ear to ear. You try to sit up to hug him but he puts a hand on your shoulder,

"No, no, stay down. Stay down,"

You wince in pain and nod, laying back down. You cough a bit,

"...water?"

Five nods quickly, overwhelmed, and blinks to the cafeteria. He comes back with a water bottle. You hold out your hands for it and he reluctantly hands the bottle over,

"....bed,"

Five nods again and helps you raise the bed so you're sitting up more without moving your body. When if was safe to drink, you gulp down half the bottle before sighing.

With your throat feeling less like that The Atacama Desert, you turn to Five.

"Hey, baby," your voice was clearer but still weak, "Did you miss me?"

Five laughs brokenly, "Yes, yes I did," he leans forward and kisses you, "I'm so so sorry,"

You look at him, confused, "For what?"

Five looks at you in disbelief, "For everything!" he shouts, "Dragging you into my mess, not being there, pushing you away, saying those horrible things,"

"Five..." you try, but he isn't listening.

"For not protecting you, for letting my selfishness get the better of me. It's my fault your like this!"

"FIVE!" You cough roughly at raising your voice and Five feels another pang of guilt.

"What...happened....wasn't your fault," you say between pants, "We have a fight, yes. But who knew that Cha-Cha was going to be there? Not me, and certainly not you!"

"But..."

"No buts!" You snap, "I don't want to hear you wallow in self pity! I want you to be here with me, dammit! Okay?"

Five laughs, seeing that you were taking a page from his book with the harsh words, "Okay,"

He leans in again and you kiss. He holds you gently. You were here, in his arms, awake and alert. He was never letting you go again, not in a million years.

"So...I saved the world,"

"Oh, shut up,"

———————❖———————

HELLO EVERYONE! I hope you enjoyed this part two! There might be a very short, fluffy part three if anyone wants to see it! Again, hope you enjoyed.

Also, requests are still open! If you want you can send some ideas to me and I'll write them for ya!