2004
Andrew wanders through the city streets, morose.
He doesn’t like the bustling cities, all the new technology, all the pull from the old ways of the world.
It’s hard to stay in the dark when there is so much light.
He’s bored.
He can feel the human females looking at him, oggling, all easy prey if he so desires, but he feels no pull towards them, no want to feed.
Vampires experience this often.
When you live as long as they do, there comes a time when the world starts to bore them when there is no marvels anymore.
For a vampire, it is known as the Resting.
When a vampire must find himself a place to rest for as many years as it takes, for as long as they so wish, whether it been ten years or a thousand.
Andrew was going home.
He was going back to his bayou tomb, the place where he had met you the first time and been with you.
He misses you.
Dreadfully.
But he knows he will not see you any time soon.
You abandoned him, ten years ago.
He’d woken up, and you were simply gone, a bloody handprint left on the mirror the only sign you had ever been in that room.
He understands why.
Your kills were becoming too much, drawing too much attention.
Your… feelings towards each other…. unnatural.
And so, you’d done the practical thing, leaving him and going your own way again.
You didn’t keep in touch, however.
And that saddens him.
He might no longer possess the bloodhigh, but that does not mean that there is not something still inside him, deep within the stillness of his frozen heart, yearning for you.
He had never felt so alive as when he was with you.
He misses you.
Unnaturaly so.
All the other vampires steer clear of him, well aware of his flaunted affair with you and the destruction it caused.
Many of them are disapproving, but as he has been aimlessly and harmlessly wandering now for a decade, they see no reason to put him down or bother him; they can see it is time for him to Rest.
He sighs, his hands sinking low into the black trench coat he wears, his shoulders hunching as he gazes at the dirty sidewalk.
He wishes he could see you again.
Being without you was painful.
He finds no interest in the world.
He’d tried getting bloodhigh again, just to see if it held the same thrill, but it didn’t.
There was nothing for him without you.
And he hates that.
He wishes he had never met you.
He had been fine before you, strong and feared eve, but you — you had done something to him.
He wasn’t sure what.
But he resents it.
He resents everything about you.
Although he would give all he had to see you for another few minutes, to speak with you, to —.
He pauses.
What was the point, however?
He’s moody.
He wants that feeling again, the rush he could only get with you, and he’s frustrated that he can’t seem to find it himself.
Not even killing was satisfying anymore.
That’s why he wants to sleep.
For however long it takes to get over you.
Eternity, if necessary.
Huffing, he starts across the street, ignoring the honking automobiles and the noisy humans, who were only growing louder and louder as their population grew, spilling to every corner of the world, taking away all the beauty of the world, forcing light into every dark corner.
He wants his darkness back.
He likes it.
If he could find a way to destroy all the electricity and send the world back into the dark ages, he would.
He would make darkness permanent, make the old fables and stories come back to life, the warnings of the monsters in the dark, stealing the bad children.
Children did taste good.
He wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t tasted the blood of a child.
Everyone had their darkest moments.
He wonders about you, though.
He didn’t even know the name of your creator, or anything about your human line, where over the years he had rambled off so much of his own information it almost seems unfair.
You had never volunteered anything.
You were still a mystery to him.
How had the tables turned so?
Gloomily, Andrew glances around, his thickly lined eyes scouring the pavement for a snack.
Might as well grab one to go.
~~~~~~~
You sigh as you sit at the cafe in the dark corner, slowly stirring your spoon through a cup of cold coffee you hadn’t even touched.
You hate yourself.
You hate yourself for abandoning Andrew in that room, rushing out as soon as dusk had set and taking all your things with you.
It had been a decade and you were still moping.
Plus you’d been sort of on the run.
A lot of vampires hadn’t appreciated your little murder spree, and you’d had to go into hiding for a little while, avoiding others of your kind the best you could.
You hope Andrew had faired well.
At least better then you had.
Where he was known for a short fuse and a vicious temper, and not one to be messed with, you were not, and it had been more tasking for you over the years, trying to avoid notice.
Your little tryst had almost been your last.
You sigh, sinking lower in your chair.
You were in a party city, close to Louisiana, although you weren’t sure why you had wandered that close to his resting place again.
Good memories, you suppose?
You sigh, sinking closer to the table, gloomy.
You miss Andrew.
Dreadfully.
Your nights weren’t full anymore, and you hadn’t bothered to even become bloodhigh; you knew it wouldn’t be the same without him.
At least with him, though, you were safe.
Out on your own like this, you knew you were a target.
But you didn’t wish to endanger Andrew.
It is why you had not gone back to him.
The two of you were trouble just waiting to happen, and you didn’t want the other vampires seeking him out and trying to destroy him, as they were trying to do to you.
You were weaker, younger then him.
Much easier to kill off.
No one would miss you.
Andrew was handsome, he had the admiration of many of the undead for returning such attractive features, especially his cobalt-colored eyes. If anything, you doubt he would ever be killed, simply because he was a walking Adonis.
And you were just a girl who’d been turned in the fifities by a lonely old biddy who was virtually unknown.
You hadn’t seen her since ten years after your change; she’d abandoned you, grown bored with your presence.
And you couldn’t blame her.
You were boring.
You still weren’t sure why Andrew had become so enamored of you other then the fact the bloodhigh you two shared was so addicting.
Like cocaine for vampires.
You could never quite wean yourself off of it, and you would find yourself drinking heavily without even realizing what you were doing.
You were ruined.
You sigh heavily.
Oh, Andrew….
What was that?
You still, and then your eyes flick up.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit!
The two vampires across the street are gazing at you, recognizing you, their bald heads gleaming in the bright city lights.
Well, time to fucking run!
~~~~~~~
Andrew steps across the puddle, his face disinterested to the human woman whistling at him from the city corner.
It was like she didnt exist to him.
Even as a human, Andrew had never been interested in the women who had thrown themselves after him, either wanting him for his wealth or his good looks, never because they’d truly wanted to get to know him.
Perhaps that’s why he’d liked you so much.
You hadn’t cared about who he’d been in his past, and you’d listened to him when he’d talked, especially when you were in bed together, high and giggling from your recent kills.
Oh, how he misses your giggles…
He sighs, and comes to a stop at the end of a street, his hand rising to rest on a green-painted lamp post morosely.
He hadn’t felt happy in so long….
It was like life was dragging for him now, lacking the color and marvels it had once presented him.
You had taken all of that with you.
Which was odd.
Vampires weren’t meant to be attached to each other.
He doesn’t quite understand, but he doesn’t have the energy to question it.
He just wants to sleep.
Rest.
And he was almost home.
So close.
He could almost smell the air of his Louisiana tomb, beckoning him from miles away.
He inhales deeply.
And pauses.
That scent.
But it was impossible —–?
(Y/N)?
He sniffs again, and his eyes narrow as he smells your blood.
Why were you bleeding?
Were you in danger!?
Were you hurt!?
Did you need —?
Andrew doesn’t think, his body just moves, zipping through the streets, a mere blur to the human eye as he searches the city, your scent so strong to his nose he can ignore the smell of the sewers, of unwashed flesh, of all the other awful stenches that hide in city alleys and streets.
He has only one focus.
Finding you.
And murdering whatever is causing you harm.
It merely takes him a few minutes.
He appears in the opening of the alley, his molten eyes able to see through the thick sludge and muck into the blackness.
You were up against the wall, but on the ground, clutching your face and gasping for breathe. Two hairless vampires stand in front of you, one of them sneering, your blood splattered across his clothing.
How fucking dare he laugh at your pain!
Andrew growls softly, and both vampires turn to look in sudden surprise.
And then they’re both dead.
Andrew has the heart ripped from one before the second can turn around. He tosses the heart away carelessly, pouncing on the second vampire and wrestling him down to the ground, getting him on his stomach, his hands clamping around his head.
And with one harsh twist, he simplifies the situation.
And tosses the head away with a grimace.
He glances over at where you are, wiping his bloody fingers on the suit jacket of the second vampire.
You had your eyes closed, your forehead pressed against your arm, your hand curled around your nose. You were bleeding severely, he could smell that, from a wound in your side that looks like someone has clawed you.
And your cute little skirt is ripped.
He wants to kill them all over again.
“(Y/N)?” Andrew asks softly, crawling away from the vampires corpses and to you, not caring if the alley mars his clothing. “Are you alright?”

You don’t respond, and he hesitantly touches your arm, making you jerk, your eyes suddenly open as you attempt to scramble away,
“W-wait!” Andrew gasps, grabbing your arms, dragging you back to him. “(Y/N!”

You hiss at him, your burning eyes raising to meet his furiously, only to pause.
You stare at him, losing your steam.
“Andrew?”

“Hey,” he says softly, brushing your dirty hair from around your face. You gaze at him in disbelief, and then look over, seeing the vampires.

“How are you here?” you whisper, staring at him again, shocked.

Andrew just shrugs, his eyes on your face.
Your nose was broken, blood slipping from it in a steady stream, and you were favoring your arm.
“Here,” Andrew mumbles, and raises his wrist to his lips. He bites deeply, not even flinching before offering you his wrist. You hesitate, gazing at him still, but your lips part as you inhale the scent of his blood.

It rolls thickly and slowly down his wrist, dripping down onto the alley, and you feel your fangs literally burn.
Food.
You lean forward without another thought, your fangs sinking deeply into the vein of his wrist, and he gently pets your hair while you feed from him, sitting in the muck of the alley, the water seeping through your short skirt that would have froze a human, considering the low temperature.
You sigh after a few minutes, reluctantly pulling away from him. You grimace as you reset your nose so that it would heal properly, and roll your shoulder as it sets back into place.
Wonderful.
“What are you doing here?” you ask him, gazing at him owlishly.

“I smelled your blood,” he answers after a moment, looking at your ragtag appearance; your clothes were thin, worn through almost, and he had never seen you look so disheveled.

He doesn’t understand.
“I knew you were in danger, so I came.” he shrugs, his hand rising to brush your blood from your face, a red stain left in its place. “We are in the same city.”

Yeah, but how?
How were you in the same city?
You were confused.
But grateful.
You lean forward, pressing your face against his black shirt as your arms slip beneath his coat, wrapping tightly around him. Andrew does not hesitate, but embraces you back, burying his face in your hair.
You sit there for a few moments, enjoying each others company, and you wish it could be like that forever.
Just the two of you.
Nothing else.
“It’s going to be daylight soon,” Andrew speaks reluctantly after a moment. “We must seek shelter, my sweet.”

Pet names.
Already?
You sigh.
“Do you have somewhere you’d like to go?”

“I have a place in mind. Come,” Andrew pulls away from you. “I will take us there.”

~~~~~~
“This isn’t your usual style,” you comment, walking through the abandoned building.

“Do you not like it?” Andrew sounds amused as he gazes around. “It is an abandoned hotel. It closed down in the eighties, and this is what is left of it. I bought it recently.”

“Really?” your gaze flicks over to him in surprise. “Why?”

“I was bored. I liked the architecture.”

The place was creepy, in your opinion.
The lobby was black, pieces of chandeliers and the “architecture” scattering the floor where they had collapsed. There were once fancy couches scattering the waiting area, but it was evident that rodents and other… undesirables… had seen them before you. The marble floor had a pretty design, what you could see through the black muck, anyway.
It must have been gorgeous in its hay day.
“What are you doing to do with it?”

“I don’t know,” Andrew sighs, wandering over to where the waiting desk was, his finger brushing the bell and making it ping, which you could hear echo through the great structure. “I considered reopening, tearing it down, leaving it be — I lost interest.”

“You?” you snort. “You’re so one-minded.”

“I am tired,” Andrew shrugs. “This world doesn’t interest me. I am going home to my tomb to rest.”

Your fingers pause where they are trailing through the dust on a picture.
To…. rest?
“For how long?” you ask, turning quickly to look at him.

“For however long is necessary.”

But…
But that would mean —.
You didn’t want him to rest.
If he rested, then you wouldn’t get to see him again; it was impossible to wake a vampire from his rest until he was ready, so though you could gaze at him like some fossilized Adonis, you would not be able to speak to him, to hear his deep, reverberating voice.
You don’t want him to rest.
But you cannot tell him what he can and cannot do.

It was not your place.So you don’t respond, merely start across the floor, leaving footprints in the heavy dust as you make your way to the grand staircase, walking up the rotting red carpet, hand trailing the once golden banister with lion heads decorating the ends.
You step up onto the platform, feeling like you were on the staircase from the Titanic.
You turn slightly, gazing down at where Andrew stands at the bottom of the steps, gazing up at you.
You offer your hand.
“Explore with me?”

“Of course.”

He appears in front of you in a flash, taking your hand and pressing his lips to it.
And for a fleeting moment, you feel as if you heart beat.
How odd.
The two of you go to the right, up the next flight of stairs, avoiding the rickety, broken elevators.
“This beauty did not age well,” you sigh, gazing at the area that overlooks the lobby, what had to at one time have been a bar. There was a large mirror set up behind it, covered with a dingy sheet, and you can still see bottles sitting below the counter. There were stools with purple, plastic cushions, all fixed to the ground, some ripped, others missing their cushions completely.

“It can be fixed,” Andrew responds, admiring the ceiling, the gothic-styled arches that remind him of cathedrals. “Can return to its former beauty; it has just been neglected all this time.”

True.
“It would take a lot of money to fix up,” you respond, nudging a chair with your foot and watching as it literally just fell apart. “I don’t know if it would be worth it.”

“Of course it would be worth it,” Andrew scoffs, shaking his head.

“It would take time,” you say, glancing at him from beneath your lashes as you leave the bar area, traveling now to one of the hallways, following another staircase to another floor. “That you are not able to give if you are resting.”

Andrew frowns at you.
You just shrug your shoulders at him, wondering if the water still works; you would like to clean up, wash the blood from your body, change into different clothes.
Your skirt was ripped up the thigh, ruined.
And it had been one of your favorites, too.
You sigh as you wander down one of the hallways, trying to imagine the glamorous humans that must have walked the same carpet you were, the poor and the rich, perhaps the famous —?
Something shiny catches your attention in one of the rooms, and you pause curiously, taking a step back and into the room.
It had only one bed, the door completely missing, and a large vanity set between two large, curtained windows. The vanity was covered with a sheet, as was the loveseat and what you assume is a bookshelf.
So what had caught your attention?
You glance around, then spy it again, and wander over to the closet, flinging the double white doors open.
Ah?
“Andrew,” you call, “come look at this, my dear.”

Shit.
You hadn’t meant to add that.
You frown at yourself, but after a moment Andrew appears in the doorway, a bored look upon his face.
“Come look,” you urge, motioning.

His eyes ghost over the clothes in the closet.
They look like dresses and suits, to your eyes, all wrapped in thick plastic where they have hung, untouched for thirty years. You gingerly lift one off the rack, seeing the moths and other insects had been unable to eat through the exterior.
Curiously, you toss it onto the bed, unzipping the long plastic.
Your eyes widen.
My, my.
“Is this a ballgown?” you ask, tugging the deep red from its bag, holding it out in front of you.

It was a slim dress, a deep red the color of red and the entire bodice sparkled as you moved it. It was long, would probably trail behind the wearer, and bore no sleeves, just the heart-shaped front.
“This is beautiful,” you comment, glancing over your shoulder to see Andrew had opened one of the suits, and was gazing at the black tailored jacket.
“Do you think this place has water?” you ask after a moment, tilting your head as you look at the dress.

The next moment, you hear a long screech as he turns the knob on the sink located through the small door hidden in the corner of the room, leading to the bathroom you hadn’t paid any attention too.
You hear a deep rumbling in the walls, no doubt the pipes quaking after so many years without use. To your surprise, you hear water begin to drip.
“That’s surprising,” you comment, hearing Andrew turning all the knobs on.

“Tis. This place has been vacant so long, I doubted it would work.” Andrew replies. “Do you wish to shower?”

“Yes. I want this blood off of me.”

“That’s a first,” he actually chuckles, and you roll your eyes as you turn to face him where he stands in the bathroom doorway, half of his body shadowed; his brilliant eyes were glowing in the darkness, like some kind of dark creature, and you feel that pull towards him again, the need to be near him.

That’s what happens when you become addicted to a bloodhigh with another, you tell yourself, moving towards the bathroom. You gaze at the clawfoot tub, the shower head rising high from the floor, curving over the tub, the shower curtain wrap around; there was a large drain in the center of the bathroom, looking clogged.
“This place is filthy,” you grumble, wrinkling your nose as the sludge gathered in the otherwise porcelain tub.

“You’re filthy, so what does it matter?” Andrew clucks at you, tossing the shower curtain out of your way. “Get in, I will find you something acceptable to wear.”

Bossy.
You make a face at him, but strip and do as he says; the water temperature you suspect is cold, as there is no steam, but you cannot feel it; temperature did not affect you at all anymore.
It had in the beginning, as your body acclimated to the changes, but now it was nothing.
You sigh beneath the water, sniffing and wrinkling your nose; it smelled.
But, you suppose it was better then being covered in your own blood.
You watch the water as it runs down your bare legs, a faint pink as it swirls down the drain of the tub.
Even if the water was scented, at least you were cleansed of your filth.
You glance back as you turn off the water, as clean as you were going to be, and you step out of the bath, naked and dripping wet as there were no towels.
“Andrew?” you call, frowning when you don’t hear him respond.

You step to the bathroom doorway, seeing he was standing at one of the windows, the moth-eaten curtain pulled to the side. He bore an absent expression, his eyes half-closed as he gazes out at the disappearing moon.
He really did need to rest.
When you had first met him, he had been vibrant, mischevious with a twinkle in his eye — now he was just…. dull.
You don’t like it.
You wish for his spark back.
“Andrew?” you say again, moving in his direction, leaving wet footprints behind you across the wooden floor. He only turns to you when you touch his arm, your head tilted in concern. “Are you alright?”

“The sun rises soon,” he mumbles, closing his eyes for a moment. “I am tired.

“Then we shall rest,” you inform him, rising on your toes to press your lips to his chilled cheek. “We will find a room and sleep for the day.”

“Alright,” he murmurs, his eyes running down the body he had had so many times it was countless; it was as flawless as before, nothing different, your dead skin gleaming with the water as it rolls off your skin.

You give him a small smile.
“We need towels.”

~~~~~~~
You gaze at your reflection in the vanity mirror, curiously smoothing the wrinkles out of the dress you wore; it fit you well, though it was a little snug in the bust, making your breasts really stand out. You wonder if the other dresses hanging in the closet would fit.
You peer at your reflection, and then lift your arms, twirling your hair around your hair and holding it against the back of your head.
Huh.
“You look stunning.”

You glance at the side mirror, seeing Andrew standing in the doorway, faint amusement on his face.
“Do you think so?” you chuckle, turning around to look at him, your hands going to your shapely hips. “I rather like it myself.”

“Red compliments you,” he chuckles, moving across the room towards you. You roll your eyes, letting your hands rest against his chest as he steps close enough to you, his hands roving around your hips.

“Of course it does, it’s my natural color.”

His lips twitch, and he leans down, inhaling your scent before softly pressing his lips against your cheek.
You smile slightly.
“I wish I had a reason to wear this dress,” you mumble, resting your face against his neck, letting him hold you. “It really is beautiful.”

“I’m sure we could find a reason,” he informs you thoughtfully. “I rather like the suit in the closet as well. We just need some adornments for you.”

“Adornments?” you ask as he pulls away from you, nodding.

“Yes. Some jewelry. Your neck is so… bare.”

Of course.
You arch one brow at him. “And what do you suggest, Lord Andrew?”
He grins.
His hand slips into his pocket, and your eyes widens as he pulls a long necklace out.
“Where did you find that?” you gasp as he presents it to you.

“In one of my prowlings through the rooms; the last guests here left many of their things behind in their haste to leave. This was one of the trinkets I found. Do you like it?”

“Yes!” You nod, staring.

It was a ruby necklace.
A fucking.
Ruby.
Necklace.
Who the hell leaves that behind !?
“Let’s see how it looks,” Andrew suggests, and you nod, winding your hair up around your hand as you turn your back to him. You glance down as he lays the rubies against your chest, clasping the necklace. You let your hair fall, turning to gaze at the mirror.

It was a nice compliment to the dress.
How sweet of him.
“It’s wonderful,” Andrew compliments, kissing your shoulder.

You shiver as you feel his fangs brush your bare flesh.
You’re suddenly very, very hungry.
Your eyes meet his in the mirror.
“Do you want to get some food?”

“I’m suddenly starving.”

~~~~~~~~
“Wow, this place is badass!” the man gasps, him and his girlfriend rushing in ahead of you and Andrew.

You give a wry grin.
“It’s morbid, don’t you think? Almost like a tomb,” you comment, glancing at Andrew beneath your lashes, seeing the predatory look in his eyes. He’d gotten a little more himself while the two of you had been hunting, that spark returning for a few moments.

Perhaps he was just needing a little boost.
He did not need to rest.
“No, it’s fucking awesome!” the man laughs, his girlfriend twirling around as she looks up at the ceiling; poor things had no idea this would be the last building they would ever enter.

You had picked them up a little ways from the abandoned hotel, both of them lurking around a burn barrel outside a bar with dark music pulsing out onto the sidewalk.
As normal, they had been entranced with Andrew, both of them interested in him due to his looks.
It had been likes bees to honey.
Andrew’s hand curls eagerly through yours, and you know what he’s excited about; he hopes that the two humans would be enough to get the two of you high, that you wouldn’t have to go get a third to complete your meal.
You hope so as well.
“Do you have any friends who would be interested in seeing the place?” you ask lightly, guiding the two mortals towards the grand staircase, following your footsteps from before.

“Fuck yeah! Tommy would love this place!” the girl gasps, her eyes brightening. “Is it cool if I call him and get him over here?”

“Go for it, this place is abandoned, no one is going to be coming here any time soon,” you shrug, leading them down the hallway, Andrew walking behind them… just in case.

You chuckle as you pass empty rooms, finding the one with the door remaining; you and Andrew had cleaned it up a little, deciding the king size, four poster bed would make a nice…. it would have plenty of room.“Tommy says he’ll be here in twenty minutes,” the girl suddenly giggles, staring down at her phone as she follows you thoughtlessly into the bedroom, not even noticing where she was going. You trot over to the windows, your fingers curling around the heavy curtains as you start to draw them closed, the moonlight slowly disappearing from the room.

“Whoa, it’s dark as fuck,” you hear the man mutter nervously, and you hear his heartbeat start to quicken a little in alarm.

“Do you not like the dark?” you ask, leaving the curtain cracked just enough for the humans to see by so they wouldn’t panic. Andrew shuts the door quietly, chuckling.

“Just hard to see,” the girls jitters, suddenly standing close to her boyfriend, clutching her phone tightly in her hand, her black pigtails swinging behind her.

“I think the lighting is perfect,” you say, gliding forward, your eyes meeting Andrews across the room.

He gives a slight nod.
Good.
You step in front of the man, his eyes meeting yours after a moment.
“You two are a beautiful couple,” you say, your hand rising to caress his face. “Your skin is lovely.”

“Um, thanks,” he mutters nervously, his heart rate increasing. Andrew sails across the room, stepping up to his girlfriend, leaning close to her neck and inhaling.

“You smell delicious,” he murmurs, and her face flushes pink.

“Th-thanks.”

You and Andrew chuckle.
It doesn’t take you long to seduce the couple, both of them soon lying on the bed, reacting to your touches like they would never be able to feel another. You straddle the man, your lips on his throat, his hands gripping tightly on your waist as his erection digs into your thighs, soft groans emanating from his throat.
Andrew is kissing the girls bare chest, his teeth and tongue making their way down her stomach, her fingers knotting into his hair.
This was almost too easy.
The mans blood is calling to you, singing through his veins, and the scent of his arousal is intoxicating.
His fingers flex around your waist, slipping lower to your thighs, his hips arching into you. You hear the girl gasp beside you, whimpering, and you can only chuckle; you knew what Andrew could do with his lips when he wanted too.
However, you’d both agreed to only take it so far with the couple.
And you were to your limit.
You didn’t like him touching her so much.
You glance over, seeing Andrew was crawling from between her thighs, his chest bare of clothing and revealing the black ink that stretched across his succulent body.
You lick your lips as you look over at him.
He glances over at you, a devilish smile curving his lips.
“Ready, my love?” he murmurs, one hand reaching for you, curling into the back of your hair and dragging your lips to his, your skin heated from being against the humans.

Andrew kisses you languidly, as if he has all the time in the world, and to your surprise, you can feel a stirring in you, despite you had yet to feed.
You break away from him, gazing into his deep eyes for several more moments before turning to look down at the man you straddle, his greedy eyes feasting upon your own bare chest.
“Ready,” you murmur.

You both lean down slowly, pressing exploratory kisses against your preys necks.
And…
You sink your fangs into his jugular.
He screams immediately, his hands clamping around you, trying to shove you off of him, but you hold him down by his biceps, your nails slicing through his tender flesh as you feed from him, gulping his spicy blood greedily. You only half hear the girls shriek.
She had been sweet-tasting, Andrew’s preference, it was the only reason he’d gotten her.
The man screams longer then his girlfriend, more of a fighter, apparently, but your strength far surpasses his, and within a few more minutes he’s going limp beneath you, his eyes starting to go flat as you drink his life force out of him, groaning as the hot taste hits your tongue.
Divine.
And so warm.
Oh, you adore warm blood!
You drink headily, your fangs only ripping from his neck when his heart has stopped its pumping. You lean your head up, gasping, your hair spilling over one shoulder, and you lick your lips, knowing you’d been messy.
You could feel the blood along the lower half of your face, dripping from your chin, rolling down your neck and to your chest.
You look over at Andrew.
Blood covers his lips, but he’s otherwise clean, a small smirk on his lips as he gazes at you; the girl was lifeless beneath him, her and her boyfriends blood soaking the white sheets, pooling at certain areas.
A lovely bed to sleep in.
You lean over thoughtlessly, your blood-covered hand curling into Andrew’s thick mane as you jerk his lips to yours, your tongue forcing its way into his mouth. He groans as he tastes the blood, dragging you closer to him, his hand curling around your thigh.
“Michelle? Brandon? Where you guys at?”

Oh yes.
You lift your lips from Andrew’s, your eyes gleaming as they go to the doorway.
The extra friend.
You felt a bit tipsy, but nothing like what you need to be, what you’re eager to be. You crawl slowly off the dead man, dragging your clothes through the blood as you slip off the edge of the bed, silently stepping to the doorway.
“Don’t be long,” Andrew murmurs softly, and you nod as you go to collect their friend.

You stay in the shadows as you watch him wander the hall, looking confused and a little concerned. He passes right by you once as you blend into the darkness, although you see him shiver.
His blood was practically singing to you.
You didn’t care if it was sweet or not, you just want to drink it.
You want the high.
You want to be with Andrew.
“Michelle?” the friend calls nervously again, and you grin, watching as he starts to back up, obviously now thinking he wasn’t in the right place.

Your hand curls around the back of his neck, and before he can react, your smashing his face into the wall, knocking him out easily.
Piece of cake.
Your hand curls into the back of his shirt as you begin dragging him down the hallway, humming lightly as you do so.
Andrew chuckles as he rolls the bodies off the bed.
You were so eager.
He can feel it too, the thrill, the near-adrenaline-like rush that was in his body, making it tingle like it was almost alive again; he’s craving the high now, the urgent need for it making him impatient for you to return.
He wants you.
He wants your body again, wants to be inside of you, licking the blood off the swell of your breasts, sinking his fangs into the tender mounds until you’re moaning and aching beneath him —.
His eyes flick to the door as you appear.
“Fuck,” he mutters, stepping over to you. He lifts up the friend, blood rolling down one side of his mottled face, and easily tosses him onto the bed.

“Quickly,” Andrew mutters, grabbing you and thrusting you towards the bed, “now!”

You’re not going to argue.
You climb onto the blood stained sheets, both of you taking one of the mans wrists and immediately sinking your teeth into it.
You both groan as it feels your mouth, slipping over your lips as you drink heavily, the blood splattering across your bare breasts as you lean up, feeling the heat sweep through you for the first time in ten years, settling between your thighs.
Yes.
You moan, your eyes closed as you drink, not caring how messy you were being.
You were just disappointed when he emptied so quickly.
Andrew drops the mans wrist from his lips just as you do, and he spares no time as he one handedly shoves the corpse into the floor, ruby lips crushing yours seconds later.
You kiss him deeply as he presses your back into the blood-drenched sheets, your bodies becoming quickly stained, the rest of your clothing discarded as you learn each other all over again.
Your thighs shift as he kisses you, leaning over you, one hand slowly gliding down between your breasts, stroking the quivering skin of your stomach, teasing the outer regions of your thighs and avoiding the dampness that was calling for him, that was just for him.
You whine your impatience, arching your tender breasts into his touch, his mouth leaving yours to close over one of them. Your eyes close as you feel his rough tongue flick across your nipple before running through the blood on your skin. You bite your lip, and gasp as his fangs suddenly sink deeply into you, your back arching immediately.
He groans, your blood hot and bubbling in his mouth, and his hand finally slips between your thighs, pleased as he feels the dampness waiting for him, coating his fingers as they caress your folds, taking their time before teasingly slipping inside of you.
He suckles your breast, his other hand molding the remaining mound into his grip, nails slicing through your skin and making your moans louder, more wanton.
Fuck!
“Andrew,” you gasp, your thighs trying to clench as he forces three fingers inside of you, needing you to be able to take him, he couldn’t wait much longer.

He lifts his lips from your breast, your eyes meeting his gleaming ones, droplets of your blood spilling over his lips.
Your mind buzzes with the high, and it’s all you can do not to turn into complete putty as you reach for him, tasting your blood in his mouth, running your nails sharply down his back and making him hiss when you break skin.
He growls softly in his throat, abruptly pulling his digits from inside of you and forcefully wrenching your thighs apart; he’s not gentle as he positions your hips, his hands curling around your wrists and trapping them by your head as he forces himself into you, making you whimper.
He feels so good.
You wrap your legs around his waist, enjoying his thrusts as he kisses you, tasting of blood and desire and all the things you want in the world. You can hear your mating, the sound of wet skin brushing, the movement of the blood as it rolls into the divot of the bed where you lay, pooling around your stained body as Andrew takes you.
His fangs sink into your neck, the flash of pain escalating your pressure so sharply it makes you cry out, the burning, twisting in your stomach reaching a peak that had you gasping at every thrust.
Andrew can taste it, how close you are to orgasm, and he groans, his mind clouding over with the need to give it to you. He lifts his lips from your neck, baring his own to you as he thrusts himself inside of you.
You lift your head, your wrists still trapped in his grasp, and sink your fangs into the now pulsing vein in his neck, his soft gasp nearly sending you over the edge as his blood spills over you, your fangs unable to stay in him long with how rough his hips were against yours.
You’re suddenly seeing stars.
Your back arches off the bed with a near howl as you meet your end, your body clamping around his, nails digging into your palms as your eyes roll into the back of your head, that hot white, searing heat making your dead body quake so hard it almost came back to life.
Andrew grins, pleased, his grip on your wrists laxing as he rolls onto his back, keeping you on top of him. He gives you a moment, your panting chest on top of his, your eyes dilated so much the color was no longer visible. You raise up after a moment, gazing down at him, seeing the hunger remaining in his gaze.
Your hands clasp in his, wet fingers sliding against each other as you slowly begin to move your hips, the bed rocking with the motion as you begin to gain momentum, Andrews eyes closing in pleasure, his lips parting in a permanent O as you grind down against him, taking him fully inside you, your warm muscles clenching and pulling on him.
“Fuck,” he moans, his hands running down your wet body, clasping your breasts, his thumb brushing the fang marks against your dead skin. You bite your lip, your fangs digging into the tender flesh as you ride him, egging him closer and closer to his own end.
He groans as he finally reaches it, his hands clasping around your hips, holding them still as he arches up into you, gasping.
You sigh as you collapse over top of him, panting for breath.You snuggle your face into his neck, his chest moving rapidly beneath yours, a hand tangling in your hair.
“I missed that,” he breathes, gazing up at the ceiling, tingles still spreading through his body yet. “It’s worth everything in the world.”
Even his life?
He had never asked you why those vampires were attacking you, you’re not sure if he meant too or had just forgotten.
But because of “this,” your life was endangered, and if he went to rest, he would be leaving you all on your own to fight the others off again, and look how well that had been going for you.
You sigh, carefully lifting yourself off of him and rolling onto your back, grimacing
.Andrew hesitates as he senses your change in mood.
Hmm?
“What is it?” he asks, lolling his head to gaze at you, seeing your expression as you gaze at the cracked ceiling. Strands of your damp hair were clinging to your face, stained and drying in thick red patches now, the color starting to return to your eyes.
You frown upwards, and then roll onto your side, propping your chin in your hand as you look at him.
“Did you ever wonder why those vampires were attacking me last night?” you ask, and he blinks at you slowly for a few moments.
“I… meant to ask,” he shrugs as he raises to his elbows. “Why were they?”
“Because… of this,” you gesture at your naked, blood-stained bodies. “Because of our killing spree over a decade ago. The others might not bother you, Andrew, but they were very displeased with me. Some of them thought I should pay for my actions —.”
“What?” Andrew gasps, looking a mix between horrified and indignant. “Why would they think that!? It is not as if others of our kind had not slaughtered dozens more without a high!”
“Well, apparently those have been forgotten,” you mutter, pushing yourself into a sitting position, the after-high feeling starting to settle in your body; you hate this part, this was what you wished to avoid.
That almost painful tingling as your body digested all the blood you’d taken in, using it to heal any wounds, making you feel tired.

You would sleep a full day and then some after a really good high.
You look down at your fingers, seeing the color already fading from your skin as your body returns to its normal state.
Usually it lasted a little longer.
You must be out of practice.
Andrews hands suddenly close over yours, and you glance over at his face, seeing the determination in his eyes.
“No harm will come to you,” he tells your firmly, pulling your hands to his chest and holding them there. “So long as this heart does not beat, I will by at your side; I will not rest so long as you are in danger.”

“Andrew —.”“No, I’m serious. If the other vampires think our tryst so insulting to their own, then let them come here and speak to me about it,” he says, his tone biting. “Let them face me over it, not you; you are still so young, it is unfair to blame just you. Fuck them.”

You arch a brow as you gaze at him.
That sounds more like the Andrew you know.
Not the tired, old-acting one.
But the spunky one you’d met in the cemetery almost thirty years ago.
“Alright,” you find yourself saying, splaying your fingers over his chest. “But if us being together starts to bring harm our way —.”

“We won’t separate this time,” he interrupts, shaking his head, his thick mane of black locks now discolored and limp around his face, heavy with his victims blood. “I won’t let you become a single target. I… understand your need to leave so abruptly last time, to separate yourself from me before we went overboard with our killings, and I hold no grudge. I just…. next time say goodbye.”

You stare at him, surprised, and now feeling guilty.
“We shouldn’t be attached to each other,” you finally say, shaking your head. “It’s not natural, not for us, anyway. Vampires don’t run together, we’re lone creatures of the night, we —.”

“Are exceptions,” he interrupts, “like there are to every rule. There is just something about you,” he sighs, his hand rising to clasp your face, thumb caressing your cheek and leaving a line through the blood covering it, the thick burgundy smearing. “That I can’t seem to leave alone. You… intoxicate me.”

You’d noticed.
You sigh as you look at him, turning into his touch.
Perhaps there was something wrong with you then.
You weren’t normal.
And you were curious as to why.
What made you different from other vampires, enough where it would draw in such a brilliant creature like Andrew? What set you apart?
Your human life was unremarkable.
You’d died young, had left some parents and a sibling behind, but that was it.
Your grandparents had been dead before you were born.
So you don’t know why.
You sigh as you pull away from him, but his grip tightens on the hand you have on his heart.
“You’ve marked me, my sweet,” he murmurs, gazing at your drenched and sticky body. “When you left, you took all the preciousness of life with you.”

“Andrew —.”

“I can’t function,” he goes on, shaking his head. “I can’t do. I am so, so bored.”

“Andrew —.”

“No, you must listen. I will keep you safe, I will do everything in my power to make sure no harm comes to you, not because of me or anyone else,” he tells you earnestly, his eyes blazing as he clutches your hands now. “I swear upon my own life, I will not rest. I will not rest unless we rest together.”

You stare at him.
Together?
Now that was unheard of.
Vampires were generally private creatures, and when one went to rest, it was never with another; without a high, there was no way for vampires to even fornicate, especially for the male who needs the flow of blood more so then the female. So without gorging oneself, it was physically impossible for the parts to work.
That’s why the community found your relationship so odd.
Sure, obviously vampires can sleep with others, whether it be their own kind of mortals, but it wasn’t as heard of now, as the mortals were so connected with their technology that they noticed when six or seven people disappeared at once, especially when their bodies were all found brutally murdered and they couldn’t find a suspect.
So, this day and age, vampires usually don’t bother with the highs or its perks.
Plus it was addicting, and would drive a vampire to great lengths to get what they want.

Which you and Andrew already have experienced.
The blood highs had actually given you attachment to each other, which seems monstrous and amoral in the vampire world.
Which is why they’d come after you; you were a threat, an oddity.
And, in all cultures or species, oddities were not accepted.
You sigh as you slowly detach your fingers from his, staring at the handprint you’d left over his heart.
“I don’t want to leave you,” you finally say, letting your eyes flick to his. “But we cannot keep murdering, you know that; two of us draws so much attention.”

“But I have a plan, my love,” he shakes his head, reaching forward to cup your face, his own eager. “I have a way for us to survive together. A way that no one will ever notice our indiscretions.”

“And what’s that?”

“We fix the hotel,” he glances around the tarnished room. “We live here, we open it, we feed on the guests who come through — no one will notice a missing tourist, will they? Or, if you like, we can move on from this place.” he shrugs his shoulder. “Target other hotels. We don’t have to stop our ways, just… amend how we go about them.”

“We’re going to run ourselves into the ground.”

“But we’re going to have a hell of a time doing it,” he chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your neck. You shiver as his tongue runs up your skin, leaving a pale smear through the blood that coats it.

“We don’t have to stop doing this,” he whispers, his breath brushing your ear as he moves closer, a hand curling around your thigh to part it from the other. You hesitate as you stare at him, seeing his eyes were losing their blue, the black enlarging again.

His high must be stronger then yours.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, his lips on your neck.

“Mhm, it is very simple,” he murmurs, his fingers traveling up the inside of your thigh slowly, leaving tingles in his wake. You suck in a tight breathe as he brushes you core, and to your surprise you can feel that burn start again.

What the hell?
“You don’t want this to end,” he continues, one finger suddenly gliding inside your dampening folds, stroking. “You want to do this all the time, constantly, don’t you?”

You bite your lip, your hands curling tightly in the sheets as one finger slips inside you, and then another, as if your body wasn’t still sensitive from your fucking ten minutes ago.
You gasp softly, feeling his smirk against your body.
“I don’t want this to end,” he murmurs, pressing you back into the bed, his gaze burning and hungry again as he leans over you, tone commanding. “And neither do you. So let’s never stop. We don’t have too, no one can make us, we’re vampires, for fucks sake.”

“But, the others —.”

“Will come around,” he purrs, your nails curling around his upper arms, his fingers curling inside your suddenly responsive body, making your hips buck immediately. “In time. But for now, let’s just enjoy ourselves, shall we?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You can’t say no.
Not to him.
Especially not right now.
And his idea doesn’t sound bad, though you don’t like the thought of staring in one place for too long, too much exposure.
“Ungh — A-Andrew!”

Your fingers start to clench.
Although you definitely don’t want to stop this!
He moans, dragging his soaking fingers out of you.
You don’t want this to stop.
He rolls you over onto your stomach, forcing your hips to arch into the air.
Oh god, you never want it to stop.
His hand curls into your hair, nails raking against your scalp.
Not ever.
He forces your thighs farther.
You would kill for this again, over and over, and you didn’t care how many humans you had to murder to get it; they reproduce like flies.
You whimper as his length nudges your dripping entrance, and you feel his hips move back before he thrusts so hard into you the bed slams against the wall, pulling so harshly on your hair it forces your head to snap up with a throaty growl.
Fuck!
You would kill cities for this.
Your eyes flash open as you gasp, completely black, the blood high so consuming you doubt you’ll ever come down again — and you don’t want too. You want this, you want to be with him, you want to fuck him so hard for eternity that you have to rest for millenniums afterward —.
So you agree.
Wholeheartedly.
You would find a way to make it work, to be together.
Even if it means killing your own kind.
Andrew wasn’t the only one who had been marked, who had a handprint left on him.
He’d marked you too.

And at that moment, you were hoping he marks you a lot more.

Notes

And this be the last chapter