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misstatianaythumbtzen

Jun 13

armageddonofthebrain

CHAPTER TWO

Click here to read Chapter One

Pairings: Vampire!Michael x Female!OC

Summary: For centuries, Michael has been very good at pretending. Tonight, someone notices.

Content Warnings: Vampire/Supernatural Themes, References to blood and hunger for it, Emotional Manipulation (kind of), Slow Burn Romance, Celebrity Culture, Mild Psychological Tension

Wordcount: 3K-ish

Authors Note: I enjoyed writing the first chapter for this fic and decided to make it a series! Please be nice, but feedback is appreciated!

If you're interested in being tagged in ongoing chapters let me know

Tag List:

@lollipoplies @twizzy89 @michaellovestatiana @laistrange @mjj-nostalgia

Divider credit to @strangergraphics

I should have looked away.

Instead, I found my gaze boring into hers long after the rest of the room had turned its attention to the stage. The champagne flute still poised gracefully between her fingers as she turned back toward her table as though nothing unusual had just occurred.

Like she hadn’t just unsettled something within me with a single amused glance.

Strange girl.

The applause rippled through the theatre once more as the host took the stage. Someone at the next table laughed too loudly. Crystal clinked against crystal. The room resumed its relentless performance while I remained motionless in the centre of it, my attention is still fixed two tables away.

“Michael”

I turned my head slightly towards the voice.

It was the woman seated beside me, she was beautiful in a manufactured Hollywood way, perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect timing. An actress maybe? There were so many faces here that I couldn’t be sure. She smiled up at me while holding out a champagne flute.

“I asked if you are enjoying the evening so far?” she crooned, eyeing me expectantly.

Ah yes, this marked the first of many mundane conversations. Though it was not her fault, I slipped on the familiar smile instantly. Soft, gentle, empty.

“Very much” I lied smoothly. I heard her heartbeat quicken at the attention and suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.

I could feel eyes on me. I knew who they belonged to before I looked up to confirm. Across the room the stranger watched the interaction unfolding with poorly concealed amusement. And to my immense irritation, I realised she knew I was pretending.

My smile never faltered, though the hunger beneath my skin was coiling tighter with each passing minute. The actress continued babbling, her fingers brushing lightly over the sleeve of my suit jacket as she let out a high-pitched laugh over something I had not been listening to. It was not my intention to be rude to her, so I nodded in the appropriate places, tilted my head when expected. Feigning interest in the conversation though my attention was elsewhere.

She seemed to notice all of it. Even worse, she seemed entered by it. A faint smile lingered in the corner of her plush mouth as she lifted her glass once more, taking a slow sip without breaking eye contact.

Heat spread sharp and biting in my chest. Not hunger this time, something worse.

For centuries I had perfected every mask I needed. The gentle star, the untouchable icon. A carefully sculpted illusion, pieces of who I once was. It kept the world comfortably blind to what I really am. Humans see what they wish to, they always have. I truly believed that, but she looked at me as though she expected the performance to crack, the mask to slip, as if she was waiting for it.

“Michael, are you okay?”

The actress touched my arm again, firmer now. Concern creating a crease between perfectly manicured eyebrows. I realise too late that my attention was stolen entirely from the conversation. The music filling the theatre had become dampened by the swell of heartbeats surrounding me, fast, warm, alive, delicious.

Careful.

I lower my eyes to the table where my untouched champagne rests in front of me. I steel myself as I force a long unnecessary inhale into my lungs. Lungs that no longer required it, just an old habit. Another piece of the facade.

I finally looked back toward the woman. She was no longer smiling. She was studying me now, not with fear but...recognition. The thought alone was enough to freeze me in place. That’s impossible. No human could come close enough to recognise what I was. I’ve spent so long hiding amongst them the act has become second nature.

She tilted her head slightly. Her large eyes fixed on mine intensely. Then, very slowly, she mouthed two words across the crowded room.

“I know.”

For one terrible moment, the room fell silent.

Not truly silent of course. The music still played somewhere in the background beyond the dazzling lights. Applause still erupted in scattered waves across the theatre. Thousands of heartbeats continued their relentless rhythm. All of it felt impossibly distant. Muted by the violent rush of instinct racing through each nerve ending in my body.

Run.

The thought slammed into me with an urgency that had every muscle poised to bolt in an instant, I had to remind myself where I was. Monsters survive by remaining unseen. I have never felt more seen than in that moment. My fingers wrapped around the arm of my chair and tightened hard enough to splinter a clean line into the polished wood. The sharp crack swallowed by the noise in the room.

No one noticed.

No one except for her.

I caught the slightest flicker of her eyes as they lowered to my hand before returning to my face. Her expression did not change. Still watching, still composed, still entirely unafraid. An iciness settled over me as if death itself had its hand on my shoulder again.

What are you?

The question echoed through my thoughts endlessly while every instinct I possessed heightened dangerously. I desperately searched her for something, anything I recognised within her scent, her stillness, her heartbeat. Her pulse still fluttered delicately beneath the hollow of her throat, evidence that warm blood pumped through her veins. She was human. Which meant I had no way to explain this. No human should have been able to look at me like this, should not have survived it.

“Michael?”

My head snapped too quickly towards the actress beside me. I heard her heartbeat stutter violently at the movement, saw the blood drain from her face. Fear rearranged her features so fast she tried and failed to hide it behind a nervous smile.

There it was, the correct response, the normal reaction. The primal part of the human mind that screamed the thing seated beside it was wrong.

“Sorry um, E-Excuse me” the actress stuttered her apology as she stood from her seat, making her way to the back of the theatre towards the doors. I had not imagined it. The sense of relief washed over me so suddenly it was almost exhausting.

On the stage the evenings host began welcoming the audience and announcing the events of the evening, members of the crowd whistled and whooped when their categories where mentioned, but I barely heard a word. My attention already returning to the stranger.

She leaned toward the older man seated to her left, the same man who had droned on about his wealth earlier in the evening and murmured something in his ear. The man nodded absently without looking at her. The cut of her dress offered an unobstructed view of the pulse fluttering beneath the smooth skin of her throat. The ache in my gums made me clench my jaw so tight I feared it would shatter my teeth. Then she rose from her seat. Every nerve in my body was on alert.

She stood gracefully, smoothing the ruby satin of her dress as she stepped away from the table. Disappearing into the sea of faceless people and moving toward the ballroom corridors beyond the theatre doors.

I found myself rising from my own seat, excusing myself from the table to follow her. The movement was instinct before thought. Telling myself it was morbid curiosity, that it was caution. That I was ensuring I understood the threat before it could reveal itself fully. Years of detachment tried to wrap themselves around the decision, trying to make it rational but it was futile.

The doors closed behind me with a thud. It was quieter in the corridor of this ancient building, stripped of the spectacle ongoing behind me. Velvet carpet swallowed the sounds of my footsteps, slow and languid. Predator seeking out prey. A tale as old as time.

She moved ahead without hesitation. She didn’t glance over her shoulder, giving no sign she was checking if I had followed her. As if she knew I would. I inhaled deeply, tasting her scent undiluted for the first time. She was mouthwatering.

I followed several feet behind her, each step measured, closing the distance. She turned a corner into a narrow passage lined with framed photographs of past ceremonies, past faces and versions of the same endless celebration of fame. She slowed here, fingers trailing gently along the wall as she walked. She wasn’t lost or searching. She was waiting.

I slowed my steps, pausing at the bend in the corridor, watching her for a long moment. It was an old habit, a necessary one. You must master patience if you want to outlive your prey. Except this did not feel like prey, it felt like stepping into somewhere I was already expected to be.

"You don't need to hide," she said absently, her attention still fixed on the gallery wall.

I smiled.

"That's an interesting thing to say to someone you've been watching all night."

"That's rich coming from you."

"And here I was thinking I was being subtle."

"You weren't."

She finally glanced over her shoulder.

"That's disappointing," I sighed dramatically. "I've had a very long time to practice."

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment.

"Then I'd expect better results."

For the first time all evening, I laughed. A laugh so genuine it took me by surprise. I watched her for a long moment, my smile still lingering.

“Careful” I said, my voice low.

“Why?”

She turned her body to face me, her eyes lingered on my smile for a moment before returning to mine. I remained motionless in place still leant against the cold wall of the passage.

“If you keep wounding my ego, people might start thinking I'm approachable”

A subtle smile touched the corner of her mouth.

“You looked miserable out there” she said it softly, almost like a question.

“It’s an award show, isn’t misery part of the dress code?” I huffed out a small, tired laugh.

A silence stretched between us, not uncomfortable per say. It felt like something had taken up residence in the space between us. A challenge perhaps.

“You know, most people would kill to be in your position” she spoke plainly.

“Most people think they would. They only see the stage” I say bitterly.

She eyed me speculatively, waiting for more.

I realised quickly that she was one of those people that isn’t bothered by silence. Most people rush to fill it with idle chatter or fidgeting. Especially with me. She just waited. Her heartbeat hadn’t changed once, not when I followed her, not when I had essentially cornered her in this dim empty corridor.

I’ve spent centuries learning the language of fear and the effects it has, but somehow, I couldn’t hear a single word of it within her.

“What's behind it?”

I blinked, not understanding the question.

“Behind what?”

“The stage.”

I push my weight lightly off the wall, taking a slow, careful step towards her. Not enough to overwhelm her but close enough to feel the heat rolling of her frame. I towered over her, my eyes drift briefly to the pulse at her throat.

The movement was involuntary. Her gaze followed mine. A chilled crept unexpectedly up the back of my neck. I felt a surge of irritation, I couldn’t recall the last time someone had caught me doing that. Embarrassing.

“You ask a lot of questions” I remarked.

The corner of her mouth twitched again.

“You avoid a lot of answers.”

“As I said before, years of practice”

“Do you ever get tired of pretending?”

The question lingered between us, I smiled slowly.

“That’s another question”

“Are you counting?”

“I'm considering charging you” She laughed, a soft breathy sound.

It stirred something in my chest that caught me off guard completely. Not because it was beautiful, plenty of things about this woman were beautiful, anyone with eyes could see that. It was genuine, and what was worse I found myself wanting to hear it again.

“You haven’t answered my question.” she huffs, frustration now clear in the set of her shoulders.

“I know”

“Are you going to?”

I smirked down at her. Enjoying the little crack in her armour.

“Probably not.” I replied honestly.

“Why?”

“Because you seem to already know more than you should”

There was no judgement in her expression, just curiosity sharpening her eyes on my face. I felt the same flood of irritation, because curious people like to dig.

“What about you?” I question.

“What about me?”

“You looked just as miserable as I apparently did”

She laughed.

“I was trapped at a table with a man who spent thirty minutes talking at me about tax loopholes.” She said, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“A fate worse than death” I chuckled.

“It was a very difficult thirty minutes” she nodded gravely. Another laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

She smiled in return, not polite or guarded. A real gleaming smile this time. The smile faded. Not hers but mine, because her pulse had quickened. Just by a fraction but after hours of impossible composure I heard it immediately.

Not fearless after all, just very good at hiding it. The discovery should be reassuring. I waited for the relief to wash over me, but it never came. Instead, I felt strangely disappointed.

“You know, I don’t think you’re what people expect” she said quietly.

I laughed softly.

“If only you knew what people expected of me, you would understand how little that narrows it down”

She smiled again and I was momentarily breathless.

“No” Her gaze held mine

“I think you’re lonely”

The words hung heavily in the air. She could have called me a liar, a fraud, even a monster and those words would not have cut as deep. For a moment I simply stared at her. Then I laughed. The sound came out too loud, too harsh. It rang in the small space.

“And what exactly brought you to that conclusion?” I scoffed.

“Well, you did follow me.”

“That’s hardly evidence.”

“You left a room full of people, most of whom I assume you know. To talk to a stranger.”

I opened my mouth to speak and closed it again. To my frustration, she had a point. I drag a deep breath into my lungs, considering my response.

“You think because I left that chaos” I gesture towards the theatre behind me, “That I'm lonely?”

“No”

“No?” I raised an eyebrow

“I think” She said considering her words carefully, “That someone who isn’t lonely would have stayed inside”

I laughed. She had hit the nail right on its head.

“That’s a remarkably broad generalisation”

“Maybe.” Her shoulder lifted in a small shrug, “But everyone else in that room was desperate to be seen”

“And you weren’t?”

She hesitated for barely a second, but it was there.

“Interesting” My smile widened.

“What is?”

“You”

Her eyes narrowed.

“That’s not an answer” The frustration returning.

“No, it's an observation. You noticed everyone in that room wanted something from me”

“They do.”

“Which means you were watching them too.”

She sighed and turned her head to the wall of pictures.

“People watching is easy”

I took another step towards her. Closing what little distance was left between us. I was mere inches from her now and my fingertips itched to reach out and touch her.

“That’s not what I asked. I asked why”

“Why what?” She asked, craning her neck to meet my eyes.

“Why where you paying so much attention?”

“I was bored.” She said it like a challenge.

“I don’t believe you” I bit my lip to hide the smirk returning to the corner of my mouth.

“No?” she said, defiant.

“Not for a second”

“Fine.” The word left her in a sigh “You looked unhappy”

“That’s why you were watching me?”

“That’s part of the reason, yes”

“And the other part?”

Her fingers brushed absent circles on her forearm.

“Because I recognised it”

“Recognised what?”

The smile left her face.

“Don’t.”

I stared at her, knowing I shouldn’t push, that I should let it go. Any decent person would have. Unfortunately for her I don’t consider myself particularly decent.

“Don’t what?”

“Do that thing where I answer one question and suddenly, I'm answering twenty”

A laugh escaped me.

“Now who’s avoiding the answers?”

“You’re impossible” She rolled her eyes.

“You wound me” I say, placing my hand over my heart.

“You know what I think?” She says, squaring her shoulders, her chin jutting out in defiance.

“This should be entertaining” I chuckle, feeling myself leaning towards her slightly.

“I think you’re used to people being scared of disappointing you”

I raised my eyebrow staring at her.

“That’s very specific”

“Am I wrong?” She challenged.

Her response sat uncomfortably beneath my ribs.

“You know what I think?” I didn’t give her time to respond before I continued “Most people spend far more time trying to impress me than interrogating me”

“Is this your way of changing the subject?”

“Absolutely” I laugh again, unable to stop myself the crease between her eyebrows was endearing.

Her answering laugh escaped her loudly, so much so that her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Slender fingers pressed against her full lips making my chest tighten.

I laughed with her, I could hear the distant echo of voices emerging from the theatre. People were leaving the ceremony, the moment was ending and I realise that neither of us seem pleased about it. I hadn’t realised how much time had passed.

“I should go” she said, recovering herself.

“That’s probably a good idea, wouldn’t want to be seen with the sad act of the evening” I joked, attempting to hold onto the light-hearted mood.

She smiled at that.

“You still haven’t answered my questions”

“I’ve answered at least one” I teased

“Which one was that again?

“The important one” I said unable to hide the smile refusing to leave my face.

Her eyebrows lifted.

“And that was?”

I smiled sincerely “That I wanted to talk to you”

She looked genuinely caught off guard at the honesty in my answer.

“Goodnight, Michael” she said with a smile.