#probably need to point out that in my vision roderich was the one to get them rings

[hyperblue]

there is just something so hot about the thought of antonio parading around with a habsburg ring around his neck after him and roderich are back together. like i just imagine some of the faces and. yes.

[worldcakecakecake]

The Angel of Venice

Ludwig is an archeologist who gets a big assignment of researching a recently discovered statue. As he is doing his usual inspection with his touches against the stone, he ends up breaking part of a curse that turns the statue human.

Feliciano was cursed long ago, why and how he does not know, continuing to suffer transformations from stone to skin. Ludwig intends to fix this and find answers. Together they will traverse Europe looking for clues, stories and even an adventure that would help them solve the mystery and break the full curse before it’s too late.

Will this be the last chapter before a hiatus? I really don’t know, there’s still some more in the draft page that PERHAPS could make it for an extra chapter, but I can’t make any promises. I’ll probably make a post here in this blog later in the day if it does go into hiatus. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

                                                                     Chapter 4

When Ludwig woke, the first thing he noticed was Roderich, sleeping his oddly unkept position, body in a weird array with hands extending uncomfortably, no glasses and hair standing in unreasonable ways. He chuckled, a movement that had another stirring…and that’s when he noticed that he had Feliciano resting on him, taking a good side, his entire being one of comfortable bliss. If it wasn’t for the shock, Ludwig would have admitted he looked beautiful.

 “Feliciano…” he called, slight this time, not wanting to disturb anyone in the room.

 “Mmm…” Feliciano moaned out, uncaring.

 “Feliciano…what did I tell you about sleeping in my bed…”

 “Mmm…something about…not doing it,” and yet he cuddled more into him.

 “Mhm.” Ludwig could only respond, hoping the other could notice…yet they remained as they did. To his embarrassment, this was the exact moment Roderich decided to awaken, startled at what his hazy vision saw, quickly going for his glasses, cleaning them well before placing them on his face. Ah…he thought it was worst. Ludwig could notice him trying to hide a hard laugh, smirking and getting crazy ideas over this. Ludwig in turn glared, hoping he understood that he didn’t want a single word.

 “Can we still go to see flowers, Ludwig?” Feliciano dared ask, eyes still shut, yawning and stretching, but his hold always coming back to the large blond.

 Ludwig rolled his eyes and Roderich had to continue to hide whatever burst that wanted to be free.

  Mostly because Ludwig and Roderich loved the view, they settled heading on foot to Piazzale Michelangelo. On the way, Ludwig could make the necessary calls that got him his ex’s number again…and actually calling her, and Feliciano could see and pick all the flowers he wanted, a quite gorgeous bouquet in his arms as they moved. While Ludwig talked to her, exuding a lot of stress, Roderich had to remind him to breathe and Feliciano thought he could help by placing a white lily on his chest pocket.

 As Feliciano’s bouquet grew lager and he realized he couldn’t hold it fully in his hands, he began giving to many of the passerby, being working men, tourists, groups of friends on a stroll, even small little children that shyly laughed as they accepted. In part, Ludwig and Roderich wanted to scold him, but in another, it was indeed something sweet that they ended up accepting. By the time they reached the heights of the Piazzale, Florence shown in all it’s beautiful red between these gorgeous mountains, did they take seating in one of the steps to relax, for Ludwig to finish his call and for Feliciano to fix the now remaining flowers in his bouquet.

 “…ja, ja…thanks, thanks a lot,” Ludwig hanged up the call, releasing a deep breath of relief, hanging his head and trying to settle himself well again.

 “Ludwig, are you all right?” Feliciano questioned, nearing well, ready to offer his entire bouquet if it made him feel better.

 “Yeah, yeah…I’m fine, in fact, I have really good news.” He raised his head in a more positive outlook. “The sketchbook…she has it.”

 “She does?” Both Roderich and Feliciano surprised.

 “Yes! It’s been in the archives in Brussels for centuries, she’s part of a research group that’s been trying to find the artist for decades.”

 “That’s wonderful! Now all we need to do is head there right now and take it back!” Roderich suggested.

 “Yeah…we can’t do that.”

 “What?” Roderich was indignant.

 “Isn’t it…supposed to be mine?”

 “Well…yeah, it is, but things are complicated now and she can’t just give something that the archive owns and is worth thousands of euros to just some random boy I’m going to bring over, no matter how we try to explain it. Once they find out who the artist is, they plan to exhibit it in a museum. The best she could do is let us see it and look through it.”

 “What did you tell her?”

 “About what we found out here. Told her about the statue and how I think it’s the same artist.”

 “Do you want me to get copies of the documents we found?”

 “It would be best. I’m also trying to see how I can explain Feliciano.”

 “We have time to think of something. For now, we need to plan our trip to Brussels immediately-”

 They conversed on about plane tickets and places of stay, all unknown things to Feliciano, so he distracted himself with the wonderful view, enchanting, taking his breath and letting himself the moment to just gaze.

 It was indeed a beautiful city, a shame that he could not remember it well, especially when he had once been raised there. He extended his gaze through every street and building he could spot, as if mapping a route deep into the city, deep into searching, to finding. Suddenly he remembered as the streets were once, he remembered walking them in known steps, greeting familiar faces and taking practiced shortcuts, confident and as joyous he knew he had always been.

 And then there was him, reaching his hands and welcoming to what would surely be a lover’s embrace. Feliciano remembered that moment fondly, running and accepting those arms to be wrapped around him, laughing and caressing this man’s long blond and rowdy hair.

 And from devotion, came poison.

 Despite how beautiful the memory, Feliciano felt evil now, a reach to let go, to scream at his past self to get away from him.

 Those past green eyes burned in a magic that was to harm. It was the heat enough to get him back, to breathe heavily, standing and even letting the flowers drop to the steps.

 “Feliciano?” Ludwig worried, standing alongside him, placing a hand on his shoulder hoping to steady him.

 “What is going on?” Roderich asked then, noticing the depth of fear in Feliciano’s eyes, as well as how his body easily moved along with every harsh intake of breath.

 “I saw him…” he managed to utter, although still as shaken.

 “You saw who?”

 “The man…the man that did this to me.”

  “Did you get a name? A description? Anything he said that could give us a clue!” Ludwig rushed them to the airport gate.

 “I already told you, all I got was a memory, something from when we were in Florence together,” Feliciano answered, readily carrying his own bag, comfortable and sure in his teal buttoned shirt and jeans.

 “Blond, green eyes…doesn’t really give us much, Feliciano,” Roderich commented.

 “I’m sorry, but I really couldn’t remember him that well,” he saddened.

 “How did you even know if he was the one that gave you that transformation?”

 “I don’t know…I just…felt like he was. I was really scared and I really…wanted to get away from him…”

 Boarding began, the three moving together forward.

 “Hopefully the sketchbook in Brussels can give us more information.”

  “This is it,” and she gently placed the old sketchbook on the table, before them, the woman using gloves for any kind of movement or opening.

 Feliciano didn’t get why Ludwig was so scared about coming to see her. Laura, as she had been introduced to him, was a beautiful young woman, graceful, kind, yet with optimism in her eyes and even in the red of her lips. She had been smiling to the three of them ever since they arrived, without any of the menace Feliciano was expecting after Ludwig’s worries.

 “Can we look through it?” Ludwig had already asked several times. Laura sighed, but maintained her calm, her true kind exterior.

 “Yes, you can, just be careful, and gloves at all time,” she warned, pointing with command to the pairs she left for the three on the table.

 Feliciano was the first to wear his, wanting to already be reminded of more with surely all the pieces that book held.

 It was small, could easily fit in any small bag, but it had a plentiful amount of pages, surely giving it weight. Its cover was made of leather with a beautiful encrusted border like that of the vines of a flower. Simple, nothing of strong reminder, but Feliciano could already feel a strong sense of belonging, of sensing himself in it.

 Laura did the favor of opening, revealing the first blank pages, in one there was smudge, unintelligible, but Feliciano then remembered that it was where he had long ago written his name, claiming its belonging to him. Nothing else was mentioned when the first drawing showed itself, a beautiful view of old Florence. Feliciano took a wondered breath, remembering then the tall building he had sat on to get this perfect image, how he had to sneak in, later getting into huge trouble when he had been found out. He smiled, remembering then the harsh scolding he got from his grandfather, mother and brother.

 “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Laura had seen his grin, guessing it to be one of interest to the image drawn.

 “Yes…yes it is,” he admitted, Ludwig and Roderich agreeing, just as taken with the first of the drawings.

 Laura continued on the passing of pages, showing them ones of old bottles of wine, a feast with drinks, quarrelling lovers, a sophisticated noble lady, a poor gypsy woman, then flowers and flowers and flowers.

 Yes, Feliciano knew it was his, but none of them sparked enough for him to remember something so full. He still couldn’t remember drawing any of these.

 Both Roderich and Ludwig could tell it wasn’t working. They had come to learn the kind of gaze Feliciano would take when he did.

 “Are you guys…looking for something in particular?” Laura wondered as she noticed the somberness they all took.

 “Is this…the only book you have with these kinds of drawings?” Feliciano wondered.

 “Yes, I’m afraid so. It’s pretty unique, and trust me, I’ve tried hard to find other squares and paintings to compare…but nothing,” she was truly disappointed at that, as were the rest.

 The three newcomers thought on about what they should do next, where should they head and what other direction could any of Feliciano’s newest memories at least give them. Feliciano kept on caressing the old pages and leather tenderly, as if petting a small creature to life again, a life that could return to his mind and alight everything.

 “Is it possible to have a copy?” Roderich asked, not wanting to lose something that was still too precious to Feliciano even if it didn’t end up really helping. There was still the chance it could later evoke something though.

 “Sure! We already have some scanned files in the archive computer. We can send it to one of your e-mails.”

 “Thank you, I appreciate-” they spoke on other matters that Feliciano didn’t feel like paying attention to, instead focusing on the sketch of a child, a girl playing between flowers, a tender smile that seemed somehow familiar. He remembered how easily she would laugh and enjoy any simple game Feliciano brought here, even explaining these codes- codes? What codes? He asked himself.

 He then remembered…this girl, pointing and giggling to a page in his sketchbook…on this very page, a game between the flowers and the very girl’s smile. A code…a code…he taught her that, she began doing her own because he taught her…and yet now, in his mind, he followed a path she had made in his memory, unlocking, feeling, until he could read a message perfectly.

 This time, she taught him.

 “Remember to go to Amsterdam in twenty nights. Papa got a painting,” he read aloud, interrupting whatever chatter went out between them.

 “Excuse me?” Laura raised her eyes to him.

 “Amsterdam…Amsterdam…” suddenly it clicked, suddenly he felt the jolts of that reminder. “Amsterdam! I have to go to Amsterdam! It’s something about my papa! About papa!” Feliciano shouted, jumping from his seating to head over to Ludwig, hands on his shoulders, gently trying to pull him to join him already in a hurry to the place.

 “Fel-Feli-Feliciano! Calm down!” Ludwig was startled by the suddenness, taking Feliciano’s wrist in quite a gentle hold, looking into his eyes and passing over that serenity that had Feliciano easily stilling.

 Laura took well notice of this, questioning.

 “Why this sudden mentioning of Amsterdam?”

 “I remembered something! There’s a code! A code throughout the whole sketchbook!” Feliciano had no problem with admitting loudly.

 Roderich sent a gaze to Ludwig to let him know that they should be careful with what Feliciano admitted right now, especially in Laura’s presence.

 “A code? How could you find a code?” Laura wondered, Roderich and Ludwig alerting, figuring it was already too late and they had to be quick to make up something.

 “I believe we should be leaving now!” Roderich suddenly stood, hurrying over to the door hoping the other two followed. Although slow and surprised, Ludwig stood as well and began dragging Feliciano out.

 “Wait! Wait! Wait!” Laura called and they did well to stop, hoping she wouldn’t question on.

 “Don’t worry, it’s something of ours that we can manage with,” Ludwig tried to distract.

 “It seemed to do with the sketchbook…” Laura then noticed the heavy and even caring hold of hands Ludwig and Feliciano kept. “I must know as well if it’s to do with it. Please, let me hear about this! I might be able to help!”

 The three gazed between each other, Feliciano confident and happy to tell, but Roderich and Ludwig were always as skeptical.

 “Finding out more about this sketchbook means a lot to me, and anything that can bring more light to it, makes years of searching and studying worth it. I’ll repay back with my own service and knowledge.” There was such a plead in her tone and voice that the other two men were falling weak to.

 They did need all the help they could get, but for now, as Ludwig sighed, it was best they talked to Feliciano by themselves and then speak about what limits they were willing to give Laura about what was really happening.

 “We have to go right now anyways,” Ludwig worded for all, “we can meet up again tomorrow if you wish.”

 “Leuven, right in the midafternoon,” she had declared sure, almost scolding.

 “We will be there then,” Ludwig promised, then having the three leave.

 Laura noticed that Ludwig didn’t let go of Feliciano’s hand for a moment.

  “Having that cup by the bottle of milk is a reminder that I was supposed to get some ceramics for mamma,” Feliciano pointed to the computer screen, where the scans of the sketchbook were presented.

 This design was of an old abandoned garden, yet Feliciano added that reminder with those sudden details. Ludwig admired how he made them fit in with colors and light even if there were rather odd items to have in such a place.

 “And this one,” he clicked so they could have the next page, “was a reminder to go to a ball I was invited to. The time was seven, for how the people are placed, and the date was the 10th of January with the positioning of the walls of this room.”

 Ludwig was truly impressed, continuing to have Feliciano discuss and tell him all kinds of messages spread throughout this sketchbook.

 “Do you think anything here will tell you about the person who did this to you?”

 “If there is, I haven’t been reminded.” They had begun to go through all the sketchbook again. “No…I don’t think I mentioned him.”

 “The Amsterdam appointment you had though,” Roderich wanted to remind, “why was it so important that you got like that?”

 “Because there was a painting I had to get from papa!” He agitated as before, even raising himself from the hunched position he had over Ludwig’s head as if he was to go that instant.

 “Yes, you’ve made it clear. Please, sit down, we’re not leaving anytime soon,” Roderich scolded, bringing him to a seating in his hotel bed.

 “I’m sorry, it’s just…I remember that I had been planning for that trip for a while before I…was here!” He raised his arms around him.

 “With your dad?” Ludwig had been wondering.

 “Yes!”

 “I thought you didn’t have any contact with him and you hadn’t mentioned anything about him till now,” Roderich questioned.

 “Well…to be honest, I still can’t remember anything else,” he deflated, “but I know it’s important! I feel it! And maybe through this painting we can figure something out!” He had a point there, Ludwig and Roderich exchanging glances, surely deciding if they were now to take that trip to Amsterdam to find this painting.

 “Where would we look for such an old painting in Amsterdam? If it’s even still there,” Roderich already exasperated.

 “Laura!” Feliciano glowed.

 “Laura? What makes you think she’ll know?”

 “She studies these kinds of sketches and paintings, especially my sketchbook! Maybe she can help us find a connection!” He stood once again in excitement.

 He was right, one that Roderich and Ludwig wished they didn’t have to agree on. They gazed to one another, making that choice.

 “Should we let her know?” Roderich decided to word.

 “I don’t know…should we?” Ludwig decided to leave that on Feliciano.

 He was desperate and he was willing give and tell anything if it meant sure answers. “She seems trustworthy, I think we can tell her,” he decided.

 Ludwig and Roderich sighed, already hating the explanations they would have to give her, as well as her point of decree of marking them crazy.

  Ludwig practiced what he would say under his breath, while Roderich helped Feliciano with the suit he decided on.

 “Isn’t that a little too much to meet up with Laura?” Ludwig questioned, although admitting how well it hugged his forms, the dark and unique colors making him vibrant and surely a beacon for many to stare.

 “I always have to look presentable in front of a lady, especially one who we will tell something very important and she to us.”

 “Feliciano, we’re not entirely sure she’ll have this information.”

 “And are you trying to woo her?” Roderich glared, halting his help, clearly in refusal if this was the case.

 “Oh no! Laura is a beauty, but I am not in pursue of her like that. I just want to be presentable.” His smile was honest.

 “All right. Just behave, be careful what you tell her, don’t shout, calm down and-” Ludwig was dealing with the keys, getting the door for them, when his words were interrupted by a familiar blinding light. As always, when Ludwig and Roderich would recover, Feliciano’s lively presence was gone, instead, he was a statue again, in its known grace, now both just sighing, beginning to get used to it. “-or just…turn and…we don’t have to deal with Laura,” Ludwig smiled, relieved, ready to take off his coat and settle with staying in the room.

 “No! Ludwig, someone has to go talk with her still, even if without Feliciano. We already established a time and meeting spot and it would be awfully rude to leave her waiting,” Roderich scolded.

 Ludwig wore an angered expression, but followed his words and opened the door ready to leave. “Then come on, let’s go.”

 “I think I’ll stay here instead and watch over Feliciano. I’ll leave everything to you,” Roderich still managed to excuse, finding hard to hide his smirk, because he’ll be leaving Ludwig alone with his ex.

 Ludwig let him his opportunity, fierceness in his eyes but deciding on heading on.

 “If Laura finds everything hard to believe, you know where to find us.”

  It was a beautiful, shinning day. Deep blue sky, a sparse cloud to decorate, shinning flowers, plentiful people and surrounding architecture and art to shine. Brussels was indeed enchanting for a stroll today. It made Ludwig wonder how Feliciano would react to the colors of the day, to the pastries in the windows, the statues, even the people that joined for dessert and coffee at cafes. He groaned and scolded at himself for wondering…even missing him in such moments, decided then on just repeating the words he would tell Laura about his mission.

 He reached the Leuven exact, Laura expecting Ludwig to do so, waving at him from the nice table she chose outside to enjoy from the lovely day.

 “Where’s Roderich and Feliciano?” She instantly wondered.

 “They stayed back at the hotel. We’ll…probably join them later.” He took his seat comfortable, looking over the menu of small artisanal coffees this café held.

 “Join them?”

 “We came here to talk, didn’t we?” Ludwig wanted to hurry.

 “Learn to relax a little, Ludwig, order your coffee, breathe, we can talk about this calmly and without hurry.”

 The waiter then arrived with her coffee, Ludwig taking his order, giving her time to enjoy from a drink, letting a plentiful silence settle that to be honest, did make Ludwig feel more at calm.

 “I do have a curious question you don’t mind me starting with.”

 “What is it?”

 “Feliciano.”

 “What about him?”

 “Be honest with me, is he your new lover?”

 Ludwig’s eyes widened in such a comical way Laura feared of spilling her coffee, stopping at mid sip.

 “He…He…oh my god, he…uh…” whatever nonsense he was to continue with was stopped with his own coffee arriving, not paying attention to its presentation and aroma when we was still thinking how he was to answer. He hadn’t planned or prepared for this. “He…he is not!” He managed.

 “You two seemed really taken…not even in our relationship did you ever look at me the way you did at him.”

 Ludwig reddened, tapping his fingers on the table rapidly, a habit he tended to present when he was nervous, surely with countless of things rampaging around his mind.

 “Your judgement was mistaken. Feliciano is just a friend.”

 “Are you sure? Just a friend?” Laura still questioned, for now not buying it. “You can tell me, you know I won’t have a problem. Feliciano seemed really sweet and you two actually make a very cute couple,” she smiled trying to establish that confidence and trust.

 Ludwig was touched by it, but he had to deny, yet again. “Yes, he is just a friend helping me…in a particular way with this assignment.”

 Laura raised an eyebrow, “In what particular way?”

 And so Ludwig neared and began to tell. Laura was patient enough to sit and listen well through his whole speech, only reacting in the contours of her expression, Ludwig knew unbelieving and skeptical for now, but at least she didn’t laugh and make any instant accusations. There was an intimidating silence by the time he finished, Laura, of course, not at all convinced.

 “I…never took you for such a storyteller, Ludwig,” she admitted, leaning back, somewhat disappointed.

 “I expected you to say something like that.”

 “Then why tell me this? Why can’t you tell me what’s really going on with the statue? I don’t think coming up with these wild tales is helping both our causes here.”

 “I told you because it’s true, because we know you can give us the help you offered.”

 “Ludwig, please, just-”

 “I am prepared to prove it to you. Come with me and you’ll see.”

 Laura sighed, but decided to entertain him, standing, paying for their drinks and settling way to the hotel.

< previous chapter

next chapter >

[robultrash]

Pulse

The only good thing  I’ve ever written 

Bulgaria: Dimitrov 

Romania: Vladimir 

“Vlad…” Dimitrov had moaned, my lips pressed against his collarbone. We were both shirtless, both heated. Both really fucking horny.

I had pinned Dimitrov down. I was more comfortable being under my lover, staring up into forest eyes. I liked it more when he was in charge, it let me be lazy. Or so, that’s what Dimitrov would tell me. But this time, I had taken control, was rocking my hips against the ebony man’s own, was whispering foreign words that he could barely understand, but he probably got the hint anyways.

��Nhg…Vlad…” Dimitrov moaned again, and I swear, it was the prettiest sound I had ever heard. He was under my control, both willingly and not, since I couldn’t help that my pheromones were probably driving him up a wall. And, again, it wasn’t helping that I hadn’t fed properly in a few weeks.

“If this...If this is your way of asking to bite me, you know you’re allowed.” Dimitrov said, and I knew it. He had given me permission before. And yeah, it usually started out like this. Or ended up like this. Either way, usually, whenever I needed to feed, Dimitrov ended up getting fucked.

“Can’t you give me the illusion of being in control?” I pouted, not that I was all that needy of dominance. I was perfectly fine being on Dimitrov’s receiving end. And even before I had started, I was already thinking about apology sex. I always had to apologize, somehow. I didn’t like using Dimitrov as a blood bank. But he practically would force it on me.

Dimitrov smirked up at me, he was in no position to be smirking. “Sorry, please, continue.” He said, and I did so gladly, straddling his body, and moving my lips over him. The terrain was well known for me, and not just because I spent a lot of time kissing the man’s chest and neck, though he had pointed out on more than one occasion how much time I spent there. As a vampire, you learn to understand the body you regularly visit. I’ve learned his pulses, veins that don’t hurt as bad to bite for feeding. Soft spots that could make him moan, or divots that my tongue would fit in perfectly. I had learned his body well, practically studied it. And it always paid off, for both me, in that I could make things less painful, and for him, in that I knew exactly what places to pay my apologies to.

I pull up, my fangs making themselves known through my smile. I sense Dimitrov’s fear. Of course, the process is still scary. The pain, the uncertainty. I could fuck up badly, or I could accidentally turn him. If I ever turned Dimitrov, if I ever cursed him with this, I don’t think I could live with myself.

“I can do it another day, when you aren’t so tense.” I offered, and Dimitrov was very tense. I wasn’t sure why, what stress was he not sharing? We are lovers after all. Usually I could read Dimitrov like a book, but he seemed very keen on hiding whatever it was that was bothering him.

He could read me well too, though. “You’re worrying too much, just keep going, before I grow soft.” He whined. Dimitrov didn’t get pleasure from being bitten, not when blood is drawn , anyways, so I knew better than to continue to pester him about what was wrong. He would tell me, eventually.

I nodded slightly, before leaning down. I rocked my hips a few more times, earning me the desired moans of Dimitrov, before I came close to his neck.

I usually bit his arm. That way, if mistakes happened, they could be easily taken care of. But in the heat of the moment or some demonic possession, I was slowly licking the Bulgarian’s neck, prepping him for what was to come.

Dimitrov seemed to stiffen, realizing I didn’t want my usual, but he didn’t complain. He never complained. I could ask to suck him dry (blood, not penis) and he would gladly accept.

“Vladimir.”

My brain didn’t register my own name, as my fangs grazed the thin skin of his neck. I could hear the blood running through his veins, could feel the goosebumps on his arms that I was holding. I could smell him, he was wearing cologne, it masked the scent of iron my vampiric side was seeking.

“Vladimir…”

My teeth sunk into him without my knowledge, wasn’t even sure what I was doing until the warm liquid filled my mouth. My whole self awareness flicked away, like a switch, and all that was left was the hunger that I had been denying myself, far longer than I let on. What I took from my lover wasn’t enough. And here, so close to the pulse that I denied myself constantly, I couldn’t control myself.

“Vladimir!”

Not even the scream broke my concentration. I remember each detail, the bit of blood that dribbled down my chin and onto the bed. Weak arms, pushing at me, trying to get me off. The more I consumed, the more of myself I seemed to lose.

I didn’t stop until that little pulse faltered.

“Dimi?” I said, pulling up, still not fully processing what was happening. I stared down at my lover, whose vibrant green eyes were now sickly and hazed. I noticed pale Dimitrov was, how much blood still seeped from his wound.

“Dimitrov!” I screamed, every nerve of mine on edge. What had I done?!

Dimitrov didn’t respond, merely closing his eyes. I threw myself off of him, desperately looking for anything to cover the holes in his neck, but my vision was blurred. Why was I cursed with tear ducts still?!

“No no Dimi, stay alive!” I begged. I contemplating turning him, but that was a selfish desire. I wanted Dimitrov with me always, I didn’t want to lose him. But I had nearly killed him, he wouldn’t want to spend an eternity with me. I didn’t deserve such a thing.

I wrapped my earlier discarded shirt around his neck, and once more felt for a pulse. It was there, but weak. It had never been so weak. I heard Dimitrov try to mumble something out, it sounded like a swear.

“No, don’t talk. I’m gonna call for an ambulance.” I said, searching around for a phone. I found Dimitrov’s in his pants, and I felt like crying harder. I had went too far this time.

The ambulance took too long. It felt like forever between the time I had called the emergency line, and when medical help finally arrived. I was still hovering over Dimitrov when they came in, pressing my now blood soaked shirt to his neck and crying over him, whispering to him, telling him stories about good little humans who didn’t die.

I was ushered into the ambulance with them, but I didn’t deserve to be. I thought about telling them what happened, but I didn’t want to be away from Dimitrov either. I had to make sure he lived.

Once more, the thought crossed my mind about turning the Bulgarian. I couldn’t live without Dimitrov. I knew I couldn’t give him up, but again, guilt reigned over my being, and I also knew I didn’t deserve anything from Dimitrov, especially not an eternity.

When Dimitrov had flatlined though, all thoughts of selfishness left me.

“No! Let me through!” I screeched, pushing at the doctors and nurses trying to hold me back, fangs flared out. Venom dripped from my teeth, and I snarled at everyone holding me back. But I couldn’t let Dimitrov die. I needed him to be with me.

“Sir! You need to step back!” One doctor yelled at me. He was a vampire too, I could smell it on him. He could read on my face how badly I had fucked up, how badly I thought this would save him.

“Turning him won’t fix this, let us save him.” The doctor said, and I finally backed off. I was asked to leave the room, and I stood right outside the door. I hadn’t cleaned up, blood still stained my face, and it didn’t help that I now smelled of pheromones from attempting to turn someone. I was surprised when no one came to put handcuffs around me and send me off to prison. I belonged there anyways.

Hours passed, and I could do nothing but pace. I couldn’t grow tired, and even if I could, I wouldn’t have slept anyways. I tried to clean myself off, but every time I looked in the mirror, I started crying. It held the face of the monster that almost killed his best friend, his lover. It eventually got so bad, a nurse offered to clean me up. I allowed her to wipe away Dimitrov from my face, but I kept my bloody shirt. I didn’t deserve to be so easily cleaned of my crime.

When a doctor finally came looking for me, I wondered if it was possible for a heart to stop without having one, because that’s what the moment felt like.

“Sir, your friend had to undergo a blood transfusion, you took a lot out of him.” So it was known what he had done? Good. He hoped everyone in the building hated him.

“But, he seems to be recovering well. He isn’t awake, but his heart beat is steady.” She explained.

“Can I see him?” I asked her, and she nodded, allowing me back into the room. I stared at his body. They had changed his clothes, and tubes and wires stuck out him. He looked more dead than alive, I thought, but the constant beeping of his heart monitor told me otherwise.

“His recovery has been so amazing, we believe he will be waking up within a few hours.” She explained, before resting a hand on my shoulder.

“He had woken up a few times, while you were out in the waiting room. He called out for you.” She explained. I towards her, before my eyes began to water, and I looked back at Dimitrov.

“If you want new clothes, or for us to call anyone-” The woman started, but I cut her off.

“I already left that information with a nurse outside, his friend will be here in a day or two.” Dimitrov didn’t have any family, not that I know about anyways. I knew he had friend named Roderich, and that was it. His father had died when he was young, and his mother was out of the picture. Dimitrov had had nothing until I came into his life.

And now, he only had absolute betrayal.

I sat by his bed for hours. I didn’t need to sleep, but at one point I had rested my head on the bed, and dozed off, thankful just to be able to feel Dimitrov’s warmth that only a human seemed to possess. I came too when I felt fingers playing with my hair, and the sound of voices.

“No, I’m not pressing charges or anything, it was an accident, after all.”

“Are you sure? You do know it’s illegal for a vampire to kill a human without good reason?” A male voice said. I resisted the urge to lift up, though I was practically dying to talk to Dimitrov, but not with someone else in the room. I wanted him alone.

“Well, then it’s good he didn’t kill me. Can you leave now? He’s awake, and you’re only making him self conscious.”

A blush burned on my face, and I lifted up, glaring at Dimitrov.

“Why would you say that?” I asked, pouting heavily, before reality struck me once more.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-.”

I cut Dimitrov off with a tight hug, tears burning my eyes, but the pain was welcomed. I had never been so relieved and sad and happy in all of my life. The other presence finally left, and I was alone with Dimitrov.

“Vlad, Vlad my neck…” I pulled away, realizing I had buried my face right into his wound. I stared at the bandage, it was thick and ugly and I hated that I had did this to him.

“Dimi…” I started, feeling a lump form in my throat. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to fight off the tears I didn’t deserve.

“I’m so sorry.” I knew it wasn’t enough. Sorry was not good enough for what I had done.

“It’s okay, I should have known better than to let you at my neck.” Dimitrov said, reaching out for me, but I jerked back.

“Don’t blame yourself! This is all my fault!” I cried, feeling hiccups begin to rack through my body. I was a cry baby, I knew that, but I felt guilty for even crying. I didn’t deserve to feel so sad, knowing this was all my fault. I deserved to lose Dimitrov and to feel guilty and to hate myself and-

My thoughts were cut off by soft lips pressing against my forehead. My eyes opened, and I saw Dimitrov, looking hazy with sedatives, but alive. He was alive.

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” He said sweetly. Dimitrov always knew the right things to say to me, even when he was the one who needed to be comforted.

“I almost killed you.” I stated.

“You didn’t though.” Dimitrov said, which wasn’t much of a comfort, but the fact that Dimitrov was still alive was enough for me.

“I’m sorry.” I said again, my lip quivering. Dimitrov rolled his eyes at me, and smiled lightly.

“Get up here you idiot.” He told me, and I obliged, crawling into the hospital bed with him.

“My heart's still beating, my blood is still flowing. I’m alive. And I’m still with you.” He whispered. I flushed a bit, but was happy to still have my Dimitrov with me. My head was on his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat against my cheek.

“I’m sorry.” I said again, it was the only words I could form with the way my throat was closed up. Dimitrov’s fingers found their way back into my hair, and he soothed me, easily calmed me down. I loved how he could do that, without words.

“It’s okay, but…”

I grew stiff at that.

“But you’re banned from kissing my neck for a year.” He said, a hint of humor in his voice. I decided to play along, because I knew it was what he wanted. He wanted me happy.

“What? Nooooo, Dimi!” I whined, looking up at him with fake sad eyes. He smiled back down at me, before closing his own green eyes that finally looked normal again.