Y/n is a woman, a witch in her own quiet way-sensitive to things others can't see, drawn to energies she doesn't fully understand. She's Annie's friend, not from here, not really belonging anywhere, and already tired of the kind of people this town attracts.
A vampire who should've taken her the first chance he got-but didn't.
What starts as curiosity turns into something darker: tension, hunger, restraint. While chaos unfolds and blood is spilled, he doesn't choose her like prey... he waits.
And when everything burns down, when the night takes more than it gives..
Her hand stayed on the door for a second after it shut, her breath uneven, her mind still caught somewhere between his words and everything happening inside.
It echoed louder now, sharper, because she didn’t have an answer.
The room had shifted again.
Voices overlapped, sharper this time, no confusion left—only fear trying to organize itself into something useful.
“We’re just going to let them talk to us like that?” Li snapped, her voice trembling with something far too close to panic. “Like that’s nothing?”
“They’re provoking us,” the singer shot back quickly, defensive, trying to hold onto something rational “we have to wait till morning”
Li turned on her immediately. “They didn’t threaten your daughter, did they? Stupid—”
“Enough.” Annie cut through it, firm, grounded even now. “Panicking is exactly what they want. We don’t let them in.”
Li’s attention snapped to Smoke. “You’re a soldier, aren’t you? Then do something.”
Smoke didn’t look at her. His gaze was distant, working, calculating. “Let me think” he said
But that wasn’t enough for Li.
Frustration broke through her completely. She grabbed one of the weapons nearby, hands shaking. “No. I’m not waiting.”
Annie and Smoke were faster, catching her, holding her back as she struggled.
She twisted violently, teeth sinking into Annie’s hand. Annie cursed, instinctively letting go, and in that split second Li lunged forward, ripping free.
“Come in, motherfuckers!!”
The words tore out of her.
Everything froze, for just a second, because they all knew.
Annie and Smoke exchanged a look—sharp, immediate, no denial left now.
“Get ready,” Annie said, already moving.
And the room snapped into motion.
Wood. Metal. Anything that could be used. Garlic crushed into water, makeshift weapons, hands shaking but moving anyway. The energy shifted from reaction to survival in seconds.
The door creaked, no one touched it.
It opened slowly on its own, the night spilling back in, darker now, heavier, and beyond it—
Remmick was the only one who moved.
One step. Then another. Calm. Unhurried. Like none of this was chaos, like he was simply arriving somewhere he belonged.
He crossed the threshold, his gaze moved across the room, taking everything in—the fear, the preparation, the resistance—and something almost like approval touched his expression.
The Molotov came flying before he could take another step.
Glass shattered against the doorframe, flames bursting up instantly, heat licking into the room—but Remmick had already shifted, smooth, effortless, the fire missing him by inches.
They rushed in, fast, violent, no hesitation now.
The room exploded into movement—bodies colliding, wood cracking, shouts cutting through the air. Smoke met the first one head-on, Annie right beside him, controlled even in chaos.
The musician swung hard with a metal pipe, the singer pulled Sammy back, trying to keep him behind her as everything fell apart.
Y/n moved too—but not like them.
She didn’t strike to kill.
She deflected, shoved, redirected. A hand grabbed her—she twisted out of it, using their momentum against them, pushing one back into another.
Someone lunged—she ducked, breath sharp, heart racing, grabbing a piece of wood just to keep distance, not to drive it in.
She caught Annie’s arm at one point, yanking her back just in time to avoid a strike that would’ve landed clean.
Annie didn’t even question it.
The fight pressed in, tighter, louder, too much at once—and then she was pushed, forced sideways by the impact of two bodies crashing near her. The space shifted, opening just enough—
She stumbled into it, catching herself against the wall, breath uneven, the sounds of the fight still loud behind her but… distant now. Muffled.
For a second, she thought she was alone, she wasn’t tho.
“You always move toward it,” his voice came from the dark.
She turned sharply and there he was, closer than before.
No rush. No attack. Just his presence, he started walking slowly through her.
Her breath hitched, adrenaline still high, every nerve awake. “Why him?” she demanded, the question breaking out before anything else could. “Why Sammie? Why the music?”
He tilted his head slightly, watching her, almost curious.
“You already know, my love,” he said.
She shook her head, stepping back—once, twice—until her shoulders hit something solid. A door.
“Maybe I do, but I want you to explain to me”
That got something from him.
“You feel it,” he said, moving closer, slow but inevitable. “You felt it before I ever said a word.”
Her hand found the handle behind her without looking. She pushed it open, stepping inside quickly, trying to protect herself somehow.
He followed just as fast.
The door shut behind them with a sharp click.
The space was smaller. Closer. The air heavier.
He caught her then, not violently, but firm, controlling. Pulling her into him in one clean movement, her back meeting the wall again, his hand at her waist, the other finding her jaw, steadying her, holding her there.
Her breath was uneven, matching his now, too close, too real.
“Why answer you when I can show you,” he murmured.
Her hands came up instinctively—against his chest, not pushing, not fully resisting either.
She saw him, how handsome he looked, she looked at his mouth “Tell me,” she shot back, breathless, but holding his gaze. “Please.”
His eyes searched hers, something darker flickering there now.
“He opens doors,” he said simply, holding her harder.. “And you, beautiful…” his thumb brushed lightly along her jaw, slower now, more deliberate, “…you walk through them.”
That hit deeper than she expected. Her breath faltered—and that was all it took.
He looked at her so hungry.
“Are you drooling?” she asked.
The space between them disappeared again.
His mouth found hers impatient, desperate—it was sharp, immediate, like something held back too long finally slipping through.
Her body reacted before her mind could catch up, tension snapping, her grip tightening slightly against him instead of pushing him away,
She unconsciously raised her leg to his hip, he took the opportunity and grabbed her leg, caressing her, making his way to her butt.
It was charged with adrenaline, confusion, everything colliding at once.
His hand moved—waist to back, pulling her closer, grounding her there, while the other was in her neck, not tight, but enough to feel her pulse racing under his fingers.
She should’ve stopped it, this wasn't right. Her breath broke against his, her head turning just slightly as his mouth shifted, not staying still, not letting the moment settle into anything predictable. It dragged lower, just barely, brushing the line of her jaw, and then her neck, the same place as before.
Her fingers tightened in his shirt, a small moan escaping her before she could stop it, her head lean just enough to give him space.
“ I bet your taste is delicious” he said through her neck, kissing it and sucking it, but not biting it. He pressed himself on her, so she could feel him in her entrance.
Her hand found his neck, his shoulders, his chest, his back, she didn't know where to touch.
His grip shifted, tightening just slightly to ground himself, to hold the moment in place without crossing it, not yet.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, close, too close.
“You see?” he murmured, voice lower now, rougher. “You don’t pull away.”
Her breath was unsteady, her thoughts worse.
“I should,” she said—but didn’t.
A faint, knowing curve touched his mouth. “But you don’t.”
Outside, the fight still crashing loud, violent, reality breaking back in.
Neither of them moved immediately.
She didn't resist this time and kissed him passionately, he growled at the action and lifted her to have more access.
“I really want to make you mine,” he said between kisses, his hands found her chest and started massaging her “ I want the taste of you”.
She was moaning, biting her lip.
“but It's not time,” he said kissing her, his voice rough, almost breaking under the weight of it.
Her breath hitched, her body still reacting, still caught between instinct and something far more dangerous.
His hands moved, not rushing, but not hesitant either—learning, mapping, holding her in place like he had already decided she belonged there. Not soft. Not gentle. Certain.
“I want to bite all of you” he murmured, his mouth brushing her skin again, slower this time, more deliberate, like he was testing himself.
Her fingers tightened against him, her head falling back just enough, her control slipping in fragments she couldn’t gather fast enough, and he felt it. Of course he did.
That shift, the moment where resistance stopped being resistance… and became something else.
His grip tightened slightly, grounding both of them, his breath heavier against her neck, closer again. Right there.
Everything in him leaned toward it, every Instinct, but he stopped. Not abruptly.
He chose to. His forehead rested briefly against her skin, his breath uneven for the first time, like holding back cost him something real.
“Ooh my love, you don’t have idea” he murmured, quieter now, almost to himself, “what you're doing to me”
Her chest rose sharply, her mind struggling to catch up with her body.
“why haven't you bitten me?”, she managed, breathless, confused, but really curious. “You keep saying you could—so why haven’t you?”
That made him pause. Really pause.
His hand lifted slightly, fingers brushing her jaw again, slower now, more thoughtful than before.
“Because,” he said softly, his gaze locking onto hers again, something darker behind it now, something deeper than hunger, “once I do… there’s no going back for you.”
“And I don’t think I want to take that away from you.”
That landed harder than anything physical. Her breath faltered. Because part of her—Didn’t know if that was true.
His thumb traced lightly along her lower lip again, familiar, almost sweet.
“But you’re getting closer,” he added, almost amused, almost impressed. “Like if you were asking for it.”
Outside, something crashed violently, voices shouting again, the fight pulling reality back in whether they wanted it or not.
His gaze flicked toward the door, calculating, sharp again.
He looked back at her, and something shifted, not softer.
“If I stay,” he said quietly, “I will take more than I should.”
His hand slipped from her slowly—not losing contact all at once, just enough to make her feel it leaving.
“And if I leave…” a faint tilt of his head, almost a question, almost a promise, “…you’ll come looking.”... her heart jumped, he stepped back, just enough to break the hold.
“You don’t belong in there,” he added, nodding faintly toward the chaos outside. “Not the way they think.”
This was the moment of choice.
He held her gaze one last second.
“Decide who you are before they decide it for you.”
The door opening just enough, just fast enough for him to slip back into the chaos like he had never left it.
And now with something worse than fear sitting in her chest— A choice she couldn’t ignore anymore.
She didn’t remember making the choice to run. Somewhere between the fire, the screaming and the collapsing rhythm of the juke joint, her body had simply decided for her.
That was where Smoke had taken Sammie.
She pushed through the chaos, breath burning in her lungs as smoke and heat clung to her skin. Shadows moved everywhere—human and not human anymore—and yet none of them reached for her. More than once she caught movement from the corner of her eye: pale faces, hungry eyes, figures rushing past in the frenzy. But every time, they shifted away, around her, past her but never toward her.
The realization crawled under her skin. No one was touching her. No one was hunting her, like somewhere, through all of them, there was an order still being obeyed. Her stomach twisted.
By the time she reached the upper level, the scene had narrowed into something desperate. Smoke stood near the back with Sammie and the singer close behind him, while the older musician looked half-dead on his feet, blood darkening his shirt.
“No, no—go!” he snapped suddenly, shoving a heavy shelf toward the entrance. He cut himself violently across the floor as he forced it into place. “I’ll hold them.”
Smoke stared at him. “Man—”
“I said go!” A crash sounded from below, they took him, his life.
Smoke grabbed Sammie and moved. The singer followed immediately and Y/n was right behind them as they pushed toward the back exit upstairs, feet stumbling over debris, breath uneven.
Freedom sat only a few feet away, Sammie reached for the handle.
“Sammie…” Everything stopped.The voice wasn’t loud.It didn’t need to be. Y/n felt cold before she even looked. Remmick stood just outside the doorway. Not breathing hard. Not rushed. Like the chaos below had never touched him at all. His hand lifted and settled against Sammie’s face almost gently, fingertips pressing against his cheek with something disturbingly calm.
Sammie froze. Smoke didn’t. He slammed into Remmick without hesitation, driving him backward. The impact broke Sammie free, but not for long. Remmick barely staggered.
His head turned slowly. Then his expression changed, really fast.
The singer barely had time to react before he caught her instead. One movement. One blur. A scream ripped through the hallway.
Then silence. He dropped her body carelessly and Smoke was already on him again. This time the fight exploded. No hesitation. No distance. Just fists, wood breaking beneath them and bodies slamming into walls.
“GO!” Smoke shouted. “RUN!”
Sammie looked back. Only for a second, then he ran. Y/n followed immediately. Behind them she heard another crash, louder than the others. She glanced back just once and saw Smoke hit the floor—
And Stack, Stack standing over him.Or what used to be Stack.
The brothers collided violently and disappeared from sight, she kept running though. Outside the air hit differently. Cold. Wet and real.
Sammie headed straight toward the riverbank, moving blindly through panic while Y/n followed close behind, trying to catch her breath. “Sammie—wait!” Too late...
Sammie runs like a storm wind. Hurdling through the blackness, his steps chewing up dirt, then mud, then water. His stake in one hand and his guitar in his other. Behind him in silhouette against the sky, we see Remmick float into the air in pursuit.
CRASH! Remmick lands in front of Sammie.
“This has taken long” Remmick said
Sammie jabs his stake at Remmick, who rips it out of his hands and strikes him across his face with his claws.
Sammie falls into the water. His blood blooms into the river waters. He stays under, mouthing words. Remmick licks the blood from his nails- sweet nectar then grabs Sammie by his throat, pulling him out of the water with inhuman strength.
“Oh… you little vessel…” Remmick said
“I want your stories. I want your songs. And you will have mine.” Remmick continued
“Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day…115” Samuel started to pray
Remmick stared too., and listened to this, as if remembering something and decides to join in.
“Our daily bread. And forgive us out trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.” Sammie still praying
“Our daily bread. And forgive us out trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.” Remmick started praying with him
“Long ago, the men who stole my fathers' land forced these words upon us. I hated those men. But the words still brought me comfort” Remmick explained.
The other vampires, former patrons from the mill start to creep down the riverbank. They watch as a parish might observe a riverside baptism, Remmick strokes Sammie's face and suddenly slams Sammie into the water, baptizing him.
“Lies can be warm. Lies can be comforting” Remmick said “the truth can be like cold water to the face. Those men lied to themselves. Then lied to us. Told stories of a God above and a devil below”
He dunks Sammie again. The Patrons surround the two, watching closely, rapt by Remmick's words.
"And lies of a dominion of man over beast and earth. Hierarchy of man, woman, and groups of kin."
Slams him again into the water. Sammie gasps for air. Remmick pulls him close.
“You will taste the sweet pain of death. And you will awaken to the truth. We are earth, and beast, and God. We are woman and man. We are connected, you and I, to everything. Not me above and you below but one. And we will make beautiful music together”
Remmick bares his teeth to bite Sammie when BLAM, Sammie swings his guitar into Remmick's face, the wood shattering around him, but the metal face cutting into Remmick's face.
It's silver, not white gold. And it surprises Remmick with the damage it causes him. He pulls the resonator out, and smoke and blood od flows from the gash.
The other vampires on the riverbank grab their heads and moan in agony. Remmick tosses the resonator into the river, and moves towards Sammie.
“Sammie…” He grabs him by his face and prepares to bite him when...a shot… bursts through Remmick's chest. He gasps... then falls to his knees revealing a battle ravaged Smoke behind him.The other Vampires react and wail in pain, as if they have been stabbed. Clutching their chests and writhing in pain. Smoke sloshes over and checks Sammie's neck frantically.
“Did they get you? You okay? I'm gon get you home”
The sun breaks, Remmick's body begins to sizzle and smoke
Y/n looked at him in disbelief.
Behind Smoke, dawn had begun bleeding faintly into the horizon.
Remmick saw it too. But before looking toward the sky— He looked at her. Straight at her. Across all the chaos, across the distance. Only her. For a second everything else disappeared.
Smoke raised the gun again but Remmick moved first, even injured. He crossed the distance in a blur, caught his arm and threw him aside hard enough to send him crashing into the ground.
Not killing him. Not finishing it. Just stopping him.
Smoke groaned and reached for a wooden stake near the riverbank, dragging himself between Sammie and Remmick. Ready.
The sky brightened. Remmick looked toward it. Then back at them.
Then finally—At her, again
Y/n hadn’t even realized she'd stepped backward until she felt metal press against her hand. A car.
She stood beside it now. Half in, half out. His eyes found hers and held them. Not soft nor warm, Something heavier, something deeper between them.
“I’ll be looking for you,” he said quietly, a beat passed.“And I will find you.” he said to Sammie, then he stepped back. And vanished into the fading dark moments before the first light touched the river, leaving only blood. Further and crests the horizon and the other vampires begin to howl in agony and crawl their way towards the juke
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
She didn’t remember the drive home.
Later, if someone had asked which roads she took, which turns she made, how long it had been between the river and her front door... she wouldn’t have known.
The car had moved and that was all.
Somewhere between the muddy riverbank and the first empty streets touched by dawn, her body had taken over. Hands on the wheel. Foot pressing pedals. Eyes forward. Just... moving. By the time she reached home, the sky had already begun paling at the edges. Not morning yet. Not really. Just that strange hour where everything looked abandoned.
The house felt wrong the second she stepped inside.
Too still and too clean, so normal. She closed the door behind her and just stood there, thé keys still in her hand but not moving. Because hours ago there was music. People were laughing, dancing, enjoying Mary laughing. Stack joking, Smoke, Annie. Her chest tightened….Annie. The thought came suddenly and sat heavy. She'd known her for what—hours? Barely anything. And still...
Still she could hear her voice. See her face. She let out a heavy breath and opened the door slowly, Y/n walked further inside. Her shoes felt heavy. Everything felt heavy. All of it looked exactly the same and somehow that felt wrong too.
Because how could everything still be here? How could the world still be standing?
How could tonight have happened and this place still smell faintly like tea leaves?
Her body finally gave out near the couch. Not dramatically. No crying. No collapsing, she just sat and stared at nothing. She started to remember everything
Her eyes closed briefly, Samuel came to her mind, is he okay? Sammie got away.
He had to. Smoke had reached him, yeah he is— Her thoughts stopped.
Because Remmick’s face appeared in her mind suddenly, Immediately her eyes opened again. Annoyance came first.Fast and sharp. Because of all the things to think about—of all the people tonight— Why now? People had died. People had been turned because of him. Whatever pain he'd suffered, whatever had happened to him centuries ago, none of it changed that. Nothing justified this. Nothing., but she couldn't help to think how his hand around her felt. The way he'd looked at her.
You don't belong in there.
Her jaw tightened. Then another memory: His mouth at her neck. That almost unbearable restraint. The way he'd looked at her like holding back actually hurt.
She groaned softly and dragged both hands down her face.
Minutes in silence passed when she heard a hard noise, her head lifted…
She stared toward the window.bMaybe a branch. THUD. This time louder.
From outside of course Y/n stood immediately. Her heart started climbing before her mind caught up. Slowly she moved toward the window and looked out.
Nothing, just darkness becoming lighter and the trees moving by the air. For a second she almost laughed at herself, must be the trauma… Then—A scrape Closer to the porch. Her stomach dropped. She moved toward the front door carefully and slowly. Her hand found the handle, she opened it and froze at the sight, because there he was.
Remmick, not standing. He wasn't smiling nor watching her from some doorway with that impossible calm. He was on one knee near the steps, one hand braced against the ground. Blood covered his shirt, his mouth was more stained, he had some burn marks climbing part of his neck and jaw where dawn had touched him.
He looked... smaller somehow, not weak. Just…hurt. For a second neither of them spoke. Then slowly he lifted his head, found her and despite everything… He smiled, a small smile, barely there.
"My beautiful witch..." His voice was rough. Lower than usual.
Like speaking itself cost him something.
"...I was hoping you would open the door."
For a second she didn’t move, she couldn't even believe it, her mind screamed that this was insane, that this thing—this man—had walked out of a nightmare drenched in blood and death and somehow ended up here, at her door. But then he shifted slightly and the movement looked wrong, unsteady, almost human, he looked so bad. That did it, the way he looked made her react,
“Don’t talk,” she said quickly, already moving toward him before the thought fully formed.
His brows lifted faintly, almost amused despite the pain, but when she crouched in front of him and grabbed his arm, she felt it immediately— He was burning, not metaphorically. His skin was hot beneath the blood and torn fabric, his body tense like it was forcing itself to stay upright through sheer will alone.
“Oh my…” she muttered under her breath.
“My love,” he said softly looking at her, It was as if, just by looking at her, he had forgotten his pain for a moment
“I said don’t talk.” something smiled in his eyes at that.
He tried to stand on his own, pride still alive somewhere under all that damage, but the second he put weight on one leg his body gave slightly and her grip tightened instinctively around him.
“No, no, come on, I got you, okay?.”
The walk inside was clumsy and heavy. One of his hands stayed braced against the wall for balance while the other rested against her shoulder, firm enough that she could feel the strength still there underneath the exhaustion. The second the door shut behind them, the house changed. The ambience changed, the scent of river water, smoke, blood and burned skin followed him in immediately, swallowing the soft smell of tea and wood that had filled the place before. He looked around once, slow, quiet. Like he was memorizing it already, then his gaze found her again, the way she was helping him, her, that slight look of concern in her eyes, serious and focused, perhaps as she pondered what she would do now.
She left him on her sofa “Ok, Sit. Don't move and…” she kept talking but her voice faded in and out, just like her. She hurried back and forth across the house, carrying things, setting them down, then hurrying off again. Rammick just watched her, enjoying the moment.
She finally came back with a glass of water in hand, for moment… she looked at the glass, then at him… silence… “Gosh… you're dead, you don't need water…” she said frustated, she was about to leave again but he took her hand before she could go. She just turned her face to look at him.
She looked at him confused and slowly turned completely at him giving him the water, he just took it and started to drink. She looked closely at his wounds; just seeing them hurt her, and she winced at the mere thought of the pain… She let the silence fill the room; it wasn’t uncomfortable, it wasn’t strange, it simply placed between them.
"How can I help you?” she simply asked, but worried.
He stop drinking the water and looked at her “I’ll be okay, I feel better now that I'm with yo—”
She stopped him “No… Remmick… aaahh” she let a slight breath "you're clearly hurt, I know that rubbing it with alcohol and sticking a plaster on it won't help you”
She was now crouching down, looking up at him. He was fascinated by that view; well the mere fact that it was her delighted him. He put down the glass of water, slowly leaned towards her, touched her cheek and stroked it with his thumb; just as he was about to speak, she interrupted him.
"Let's get you clean first” and she stood up…
The bathroom filled slowly with steam.
Not enough to hide anything, just enough to soften the edges of the night still clinging to both of them.
Y/n stood near the sink with her back turned while water poured into the porcelain tub behind her. Her hands moved automatically, grabbing towels, cloths, anything clean she could find, trying to focus on the practical things instead of the fact that he was a few feet away taking off blood-soaked clothes in complete silence.
A wet sound of fabric hitting the floor made her glance briefly toward the mirror before immediately looking away again.
Then his voice came, lower now, roughened by exhaustion and something amused underneath it.
“If you wanted to see me naked, my love… you only had to ask.”
She closed her eyes for half a second.
A soft chuckle answered her, followed by a restrained sound of pain. That made her turn immediately. The sight caught her harder than she expected. He was beautiful. But he looked so bad… His body was marked everywhere now—burns climbing across his shoulder and neck where dawn had kissed him, deep bruising already dark beneath pale skin, blood still trailing slowly down his ribs. One side of him looked almost viciously damaged and somehow he was still standing.
Still looking at her like she was the only thing grounding him there.
“Remmick…” her voice softened.
Slowly he lowered himself into the tub, tension pulling visibly through his body the second the hot water touched him. A quiet sound escaped him, more instinct than intention, and Y/n immediately moved closer.
“Ooouh, Sorry, sorry is it too ho—”
“Your moan didn't sound very convincing.”
A faint smile touched his mouth. “So you want me to moan more convincing…?” he said softly.
That earned him a look. “ How can you joke like this?"... She sat carefully beside the tub, one knee tucked beneath her as she soaked the cloth in warm water. For a while neither of them spoke. She cleaned the blood away slowly, carefully, her movements growing gentler each time his breathing shifted.
He never stopped watching her. Not once. Eventually she felt it too much to ignore.
“Remmick…” she murmured without looking up. “Stop staring at me like that.”
“Like…” she exhaled softly, trying to focus on the wound near his shoulder instead of his eyes. “just stop.” she was serious, she was worried.
His hand lifted from the water and caught her wrist gently before she could pull away for another towel.
“My love,” he said quietly. “I’ll heal.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“I mean it.” His thumb brushed slowly against her skin. “I’m a vampire. Time does most of the work for me.”
Her eyes lifted to his finally. Still worried. Still thinking too much.
That seemed to please him more than it should have.
“Besides…” his gaze lowered briefly toward the room around them before returning to hers. “You already let me in.”
That hit. She froze slightly. He saw the exact second the realization settled deeper this time. Her lips parted ready to answer but he leaned closer first, stopping her gently.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want.”
The words had barely left him when pain suddenly crossed his face hard enough to break through his composure. His body tensed sharply and a rough sound escaped his throat as he turned slightly away.
“Remmick—” She started to stand immediately but his grip tightened around her wrist.
“No, there has to be something—”
Another breath. Uneven this time. Her eyes moved across him desperately, trying to find an answer, trying to fix something.
He looked at her immediately. The room changed.
“If that’s what heals you,” she continued more quietly now, “then take it.”
His pupils widened slightly.
But she was already moving, hands trembling slightly as she peeled the ruined fabric from her shoulders, the dress still stained with smoke, mud and dried blood from the night. Underneath, soft skin slowly revealed itself to him in pieces and the look on his face changed instantly. Not in hunger. Something worse like restraint.
“Don’t,” he said hoarsely.
That finally slowed her. The air between them thickened. His gaze dragged slowly over her face now, completely serious for the first time since arriving.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her chest tightened at that. Because she believed him.
“I don’t want you to die” she whispered.
Silence, heavy and dangerous. Then slowly his hand slipped from her wrist to her waist.
“Come here.” No force. Just invitation.
The water shifted softly as he guided her into the tub with him, her body settling carefully against his beneath the heat and steam, his hands immediately steadying her like he was afraid she might disappear if he held too tightly.
And somehow...That restraint felt more intimate than hunger ever had.
The heat wrapped around them immediately.
Water shifted softly against porcelain as she settled carefully against him, one of his hands instinctively spreading across her waist to steady her while the other remained curled against the edge of the tub like he still needed something to hold onto.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
The closeness changed everything.
Outside the bathroom the world still existed somewhere—death, smoke, dawn, the remains of the night—but in here it felt suspended, reduced to steam, breathing and skin.
Y/n could feel the heat radiating from him even through the water. Too warm, but not even close to a human.
There were silence “you can drink my blood, I mean it" ….. "I lost a people today, I don't wanna loose you…”
He decide not to answer, she didn't take it personally, just started to clean more of him, her fingers moved carefully over one of the burns near his shoulder and his jaw tightened slightly beneath the reaction.
“That bad?” she whispered.
A faint smile touched his mouth. “Yes.”
She dipped the cloth into the water again and slowly cleaned the dried blood from his neck. Her movements stayed careful, focused, but being this close to him made concentration difficult. His chest rose slowly beneath her hand. His breathing changed every time her fingers brushed somewhere more sensitive. And he was still watching her. Always watching her.
“You’re thinking too loud again,” he murmured.
Her eyes lifted briefly. “Can vampires read minds too?”
“No.” His thumb slid lazily against her hip beneath the water. “But I can feel you trying very hard not to think about me touching you.”
Heat climbed immediately up her neck.
“What?” His voice softened with amusement. “You offered yourself to me, my love. That tends to affect a man.”
This time his gaze dropped to her mouth.
The air thickened again, dangerously.
“Bite me Remmick, just drick what you need, I know you'll stop"
His hand shifted slightly against her waist, fingers pressing more firmly now, not forcing—just feeling her there, warm and alive against him. Y/n became painfully aware of everything at once: him just under her, his hands pressing her, the steam clinging to his skin, the water moving around his body, the closeness of his mouth, the exhaustion in his eyes mixed with something darker every time he looked at her throat.
“But if you don't want to, I'll understand” she murmured softly her hands still in his now clean neck.
“I’ve been trying.” That honesty hit harder than flirting ever could.
Slowly his head lowered, not to bite, not yet. His mouth brushed the side of her neck first, lingering there with a restraint that felt almost painful. She felt his breath before anything else, warm against damp skin, and her body reacted immediately, shoulders tightening slightly as a quiet breath escaped her, the sound changed him.nShe felt it.
His grip tightened at her waist, his control slipping just enough to become noticeable.
“Careful…” he murmured against her skin, though whether he meant her or himself wasn’t clear anymore.
Her fingers found his jaw instinctively. And instead of pushing him away… She held him there and he stayed there for a second too long.
Not feeding. Not moving. Just breathing against her throat like he was trying to survive the scent of her without giving in to it. The water shifted softly as his head tilted slightly, his nose brushing along the curve of her neck, slower now, almost reverent despite the tension tightening visibly through his body. Y/n felt every small change in him—the way his breathing deepened, the way his fingers flexed instinctively against her waist, the way restraint seemed to cost him more with every passing second.
“Remmick…” she whispered again, softer this time.
His eyes closed briefly.“You keep saying my name like that,” he murmured against her skin, voice roughened into something deeper, “and you expect me to behave.”
A weak smile almost pulled at her mouth despite herself, but it vanished the moment she felt his teeth graze her skin, not biting, just there, like a warning. She just closed her eyes waiting and her breath caught immediately and he reacted to it like hunger itself had hands.
The grip at her waist tightened harder this time, pulling her fully against him beneath the water, his forehead lowering briefly against her shoulder as though grounding himself. She could feel how tense he was now, in every part of him, every muscle held tight beneath exhaustion and need. He was shaking and she felt it…
“It's okay, you can bite me"
That made him laugh softly under his breath, though there was no humor in it. “My beautiful witch…” he murmured, lifting his head just enough to look at her again. “You have no idea how dangerous it is that you still sound worried about me.”
The look in his eyes made her chest tighten painfully. Not because he looked monstrous. Because he looked hungry and guilty for it.
Her hand rose slowly to his face, fingers brushing carefully along the burned skin near his jaw. He leaned into the touch immediately before seeming to catch himself. Something shifted in his expression then. Something quieter. More vulnerable than before. It almost disappeared the second it appeared. His gaze dropped once more to her throat. “You should tell me no,” he said quietly.
She swallowed, but she didn’t. The silence between them thickened until it felt alive. Then slowly—so slowly she could’ve stopped him if she wanted—his mouth pressed against her neck again and this time his teeth sank just enough to break skin.
The pain was sharp, brief, her breath caught hard against him, fingers tightening instinctively at his shoulders, her body pressed to him hard and impossibly close but before fear could fully form, warmth followed. Strange warmth. The pull itself wasn’t violent like she imagined, he was taking her hard and possessive, yes but It was intimate. Deep. Like something drawing directly from beneath her skin instead of simply taking blood.
Remmick let out a low sound against her throat the second he tasted her. It was pleasure and relief. His eyes shut immediately, one hand gripping the edge of the tub while the other held her carefully against him as though reminding himself not to lose control. The restraint remained there even now, woven through every movement. He drank slowly at first, deliberately, but she still felt the way it affected him almost instantly. His breathing steadied. The tension in his body shifted. Some of the trembling eased beneath her hands. She didn't know where to hold, everything felt confused, she was feeling pain, pleasure, and relief, and somehow that made her stay still more than anything else.
Steam curled around them quietly while dawn continued brightening somewhere far beyond the bathroom walls.
After a moment his hand moved upward, fingers sliding carefully into her hair, the other let the tub out and took her back, moving his hand towards her bottom and grabbing it hard. His wounds were beginning to heal one by one, rather quickly. She tilted her head just slightly as another pull left him, a soft sound escaped her before she could stop it and his entire body reacted instantly. He pulled away, too fast this time, immediately, the restraint snapped back into place violently.
His breathing had changed again, heavier now, his mouth still close enough for her to feel it against her skin while a thin line of crimson disappeared slowly beneath his tongue.
“God.” his voice was rough and raspy
Y/n’s pulse was still racing wildly beneath her skin, she felt tired and a little bit dizzy. She smiled weakly. "How you feel?"
His eyes opened again and fixed on her immediately. His thumb brushed shakily beneath the small mark he’d left on her neck, gaze darkening at the sight of it before lifting back to her face.
And somehow, despite everything that had happened that night, despite the danger still sitting right there between them— He looked at her like he was terrified of wanting more. He looked so needy…
“How do you feel?” she asked again, softer this time.
For a moment he only looked at her, still breathing unevenly, his thumb brushing once more beneath the mark on her throat as though he couldn’t stop touching the place where he had tasted her.
“Alive.” The word settled heavily between them. Not playful. Not flirted, he was being completely honest.
Something in her expression shifted at that, small but noticeable, and Remmick saw it immediately. Of course he did. He saw everything when it came to her. The way her breathing had slowed slightly. The lingering dizziness still softening her gaze. The way she stayed close instead of moving away now that the fear should have arrived.
The steam thickened around them quietly while dawn continued bleeding pale gold against the bathroom window. Neither of them moved at first. Then he adjusted slightly beneath her, and the friction it caused made both of them freeze.
Her breath caught, his eyes darkened instantly.
The movement had been small—barely anything beneath the water—but after everything building between them all night, it felt devastating. Her body reacted before her thoughts could catch up, instinctively pressing closer for half a second before stopping herself. One of his hands slid slowly along her thigh beneath the water, not rushing, just feeling the shape of her there, fingertips tracing upward and then back down again in an almost absent rhythm that didn’t feel absent at all.
Slow, deliberate, and dangerous.
Y/n’s eyes dropped briefly to his mouth before lifting back to his gaze. That was all it took. They kissed at the same time, harder than before. Like the restraint had finally snapped somewhere between blood, exhaustion and the impossible intimacy of surviving the night together. His hand moved immediately against her waist, pulling her firmly into him while her fingers tangled into his damp hair, the kiss turning deeper, hungrier, mouths parting against each other with all the tension they’d both been swallowing for hours.
The water shifted sharply around them as she moved against him without thinking, instinct chasing heat, closeness, relief—something. A quiet sound escaped him at the feeling, rougher this time, and it only made her press closer again.
“My love…” he breathed against her mouth, almost warning, almost surrendering.
Butt she kissed him again before he could finish.
The porcelain creaked softly beneath the movement as his hands traveled over her body with growing certainty now, no longer hesitant, learning her through touch alone. Her skin was still marked faintly by dirt, dried blood, smoke from the night outside, and somehow that made everything feel more intimate instead of less. Real. Raw. Like neither of them had fully escaped what happened and maybe didn’t want to. His mouth dragged along her jaw, down her throat again, kissing the place he had bitten with startling softness compared to the possessive grip tightening at her hips beneath the water. The contrast made her shiver, he noticed it. Suddenly his hands tightened and in one smooth movement he shifted their positions, turning her carefully until her back rested against his chest instead, her body half draped over him beneath the steaming water.
A small breath left her suddenly. This position felt worse somehow, deliciously worse, more vulnerable. His arm slid around her waist automatically, holding her there against him while his mouth found the curve of her shoulder, slower now, lingering kisses replacing the urgency from before. One of his hands wandered lower beneath the water, fingertips tracing teasing patterns against her skin that made her breathing lose rhythm almost immediately, her body reacted, shaking, and she moaned in silence, choosing not to be noisy.
“There…” he murmured softly against her neck after feeling her tense. “That’s the sound I wanted earlier.”
She let out a breathless laugh that dissolved into something shakier when his touch deepened, patient now, attentive in a way that felt almost unfair after everything he was.
Her head tilted back instinctively against his shoulder, letting the moan be heard.
The movement gave him more access and he took it immediately, kissing slowly along the side of her throat while his hand explored her carefully beneath the water, learning exactly what reactions pulled from her which breaths, which small involuntary movements. And every time she reacted—he watched, he was memorizing her.
His eyes stayed on her face even while she unraveled beneath his hands.
That was the part that affected her the most.
Not just the touch. Not the heat. Not even the dangerous thrill of being held like this by something that could ruin her if it wanted to.
It was the attention, the way he watched every reaction like it mattered.
The water moved softly around them as his hand continued its slow exploration beneath the surface, unhurried now, almost fascinated by the way her body answered him more honestly each minute. Every trembling breath, every subtle shift against him, every failed attempt to stay quiet only seemed to deepen that dark focus in his gaze.
“My beautiful witch…” he murmured against the curve of her throat, lips brushing damp skin between words. “You feel everything.”
She tried to answer, but the moment his fingers pressed more deliberately against her, the thought dissolved into a broken breath instead. A low sound left him immediately at her reaction.
His forehead rested briefly against her shoulder, eyes shutting for a second while his grip around her waist tightened almost instinctively. She could feel the effort it took for him to stay measured, to keep this slow when every part of him seemed built for hunger.
And somehow that restraint only made the tension worse, every subtle movement beneath the water dragging another reaction from both of them. Her body felt overly sensitive already, caught somewhere between exhaustion and adrenaline and the lingering haze left by his bite. She turned her face slightly toward him, enough that their mouths nearly brushed again.
Then slowly, one of his hands slid higher along her body, fingertips trailing over damp skin until they reached her jaw, guiding her mouth fully toward his.
“You have no idea how long I've waited for you”
The kiss this time was slower. Still hungry, still deep, but heavier now, almost intoxicated by the quiet intimacy wrapping around them. She felt him breathe against her mouth as though he was losing pieces of his control one careful touch at a time, and when her hand reached back instinctively into his hair again, a rough sound vibrated low in his chest. The hand beneath the water tightened at her thigh.
Her body arched subtly against him in response and Remmick broke the kiss immediately, his head dropping back against the edge of the tub for one dangerous second like he was trying to recover from her.
The sight alone nearly undid her. Wet hair pushed back, throat exposed, chest rising slower now but heavier, eyes darkened almost completely when they found her again.
“Don’t hold back because of me” she whispered before thinking, a faint smile touched his mouth. Then his hand moved again, this time fast and harder. The reaction tore from her immediately, no longer quiet enough to hide, and his expression changed the second he heard it. Hunger flashed there again, but tangled now with something warmer, something almost disbelieving.
Like he couldn’t quite believe she was here with him willingly.
He murmured softly, mouth finding the mark on her neck again, kissing around it instead of biting. “Don’t hide from me now.”
The pressure finally became too much. It built slowly beneath her skin until every touch felt unbearable in the best possible way, until her body stopped knowing whether it wanted to pull away or move closer.
And Remmick felt every second of it. The moment her breathing lost rhythm completely, his arm tightened around her instinctively, holding her steady while the water shifted violently around them.
“There you are…” he murmured against her throat, almost dazed by the sound she made.
Her fingers clutched at him hard enough to ache, her head falling back against his shoulder as the tension finally broke through her all at once. Heat rushed through her body so intensely it left her trembling afterward, breathless and disoriented beneath his hands.
For a second she could only breathe. Remmick just stared at her.
Completely still. Like seeing her like this had done something catastrophic to him.
The look in his eyes made her chest tighten all over again, not hunger anymore. Possession.
His hand moved slowly up her spine, almost grounding her while steam curled thick around both of them.
“M'anam ar dhraoi” he whispered softly, more to himself than to her.
She looked at him, still breathless, warmth lingering through every part of her body.
For a moment he only smiled.
His thumb brushed slowly along her spine beneath the water as if the question itself had pleased him more than it should have.
The way he said it carried memory with it. Not just language. Something deeper. Something worn down by centuries but not gone.
Her eyes stayed on him for a second too long and Remmick felt it immediately.
A faint shake of his head followed, almost disbelieving, before one of his hands slid beneath her thigh.
Water spilled over the edge of the tub as she let out a startled breath, instinctively grabbing onto him while he lifted her effortlessly against his chest. The movement should’ve felt abrupt after how weak he looked at her door earlier, but now the strength in him had returned almost completely.
Or maybe it had never truly left.
Steam rolled around both of them as he stepped out of the tub with her in his arms, water trailing slowly down pale skin, across old scars and fading wounds already knitting themselves closed before her eyes.
Y/n looked at him in disbelief for half a second.
“You’re definitely feeling better.”
That earned her a low laugh against her shoulder.
He carried her toward the sink first, not putting her down immediately, like he simply enjoyed the feeling of her wrapped around him too much to let go yet. Their bodies were warm now instead of dirty, damp skin replacing smoke and blood, the remnants of the night slowly disappearing beneath water and touch.
But the tension hadn’t disappeared with it. Everything felt... More intimate.
He finally set her down carefully against the counter, his hands lingering at her waist longer than necessary while he looked at her like he was still deciding how much restraint he had left, and judging by the way his jaw tightened slightly—
The silence between them turned thick again, heavy with steam and breath and the quiet sound of water still dripping from their bodies onto the floor. For a moment he simply looked at her there against the counter, damp hair clinging to her skin, lips swollen from his mouth, the faint mark at her throat darkening slowly beneath the low light. Like he still couldn’t believe she was real. His hand rose first, slower this time, not rushed hunger anymore, something deeper. His fingers brushed damp strands of hair away from her face before trailing lower, along the curve of her neck, her shoulder, then lower still until his palm settled against her waist again. The touch lingered there, warm and possessive without force, his thumb moving slowly against her skin as his gaze followed every tiny reaction she failed to hide from him.
Before she could say something, he kissed her, slow this time, not desperate like before in the tub. Not starving. Just patient, taking his time. His mouth moved against hers like he finally had time to savor it, one hand sliding along her back while the other explored her body carefully, reverently almost, like he was learning something sacred through touch alone. She melted into it before meaning to, fingers curling instinctively against his shoulders as his mouth deepened the kiss little by little until breathing became difficult again. The sound she made against his lips nearly undid him. His hands tightened immediately. One slipped higher along her side, thumb brushing beneath the thin strap still clinging damply to her skin. He paused there for half a second, eyes lifting to hers, giving her every chance to stop him. She didn’t. The strap slid slowly down her shoulder. Then the other.
His gaze darkened visibly as the fabric loosened between them, water still glimmering faintly across her skin beneath the dim bathroom light. For a second he simply looked. Completely ruined by the sight of her.
“My beautiful witch…” he murmured again, softer now, almost like prayer.
The warmth in her stomach tightened painfully at the sound. His mouth found her throat again while his hands wandered lower, tracing slowly along her waist and thighs before returning upward with maddening patience, touching her everywhere except where she wanted him most. Every movement felt deliberate. Measured. Like he enjoyed watching her lose composure piece by piece beneath him.
“Remmick…” his name left her quieter this time, more fragile than before.
That finally snapped something in him.
His mouth crashed into hers again harder, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other pulled the remaining fabric from her body completely. The cool air lasted only a second before his hands replaced it everywhere, warm palms sliding over damp skin, over her waist, her thighs, higher— The breath she lost against his mouth made him groan softly. Then suddenly she was lifted again.
A startled sound escaped her as he carried her effortlessly out of the bathroom, her legs instinctively wrapping around him while his mouth kept finding hers between quiet breaths and lingering kisses. The house remained dark around them despite the sunrise outside, heavy curtains trapping the night indoors so only faint strips of pale gold slipped through here and there across the floorboards. Everything else stayed shadowed. Intimate.
The bedroom appeared through darkness in pieces—the edge of the bed, tangled sheets, soft light catching briefly against damp skin before disappearing again. He lowered her onto the mattress carefully but didn’t let go once. His body followed hers immediately, weight settling between her thighs while his hands slid slowly along her legs, pushing them apart just enough for him to fit there naturally like he already belonged.
His mouth never really left hers after that. Even when he pulled back just enough to breathe, he stayed close enough that she could still feel the warmth of it against her lips, the rough rhythm of his breathing mixing with hers in the darkness. One of his hands slid slowly along her thigh again, higher this time, deliberate enough to make her shiver beneath him while the other braced beside her head like he was holding himself back from completely losing control. Not that he was doing a very good job anymore.
The tension that had been there for nights, glances, near touches, interrupted moments and dangerous restraint—finally had somewhere to go now, and both of them felt it. Everywhere.
His mouth dragged down her throat again, slower now, lingering kisses replacing words while his hands explored her body with growing confidence. Not rushed. Never careless. Like he genuinely enjoyed learning every reaction from her one by one. The soft arch of her back when he kissed lower. The shaky breath when his hand tightened possessively at her thigh. The way her fingers kept gripping his shoulders harder every time he touched her somewhere sensitive.
And when her teeth sank lightly into his shoulder after one particularly devastating kiss against her neck—A low sound escaped him immediately.Deep. Rough.The reaction thrilled her more than it should have. His head lifted at once, dark eyes fixing on her while one hand slid up to her jaw, thumb pressing softly against her lower lip as though he couldn’t decide whether to kiss her again or completely ruin her.
“That,” he murmured, voice roughened badly now, “you do that again and I might forget every good intention I have left.”
The faint laugh she tried to hide dissolved into a breathless sound instead when he kissed her again, harder this time, his body settling fully between her thighs. Heat rushed through her instantly at the feeling of him there, solid and overwhelming in the best possible way, his restraint hanging by threads now every time she moved against him instinctively. He noticed every single time. How couldn't he?
“My love…” the words left him almost warningly against her mouth as one of his hands slid along her waist, then lower, guiding her closer beneath him.
The first slow movement pulled a broken breath from both of them.
Y/n’s fingers tightened hard against his back, her body reacting instantly to the overwhelming closeness of it, to the heat, the pressure, the way he seemed to know exactly how to move before she even understood what she needed from him. Remmick shut his eyes briefly at the feeling, forehead dropping against hers as though even he needed a second to recover from it.
Then he moved agai, deeper. The room filled with uneven breathing and quiet sounds neither of them were really trying to hide anymore. Outside, morning continued brightening somewhere beyond the curtains, but inside the bedroom everything still belonged to the night. Shadows clung to damp skin, tangled sheets, the sharp outline of his body moving over hers with impossible patience at first.
But patience only lasted so long. The rhythm gradually changed beneath her hands, growing rougher, faster, driven now by something darker than restraint. His grip tightened at her waist as though he needed to feel her closer every second, one hand eventually sliding upward to cradle her jaw before his fingers curled lightly around her throat—not enough to hurt, never enough for fear, just enough to hold her still while he kissed her deeply again. The sound she made into his mouth nearly destroyed him.
A strained groan left his throat immediately after, the kind of sound that vibrated straight through her body and made her lose what little composure she had left. Her attempts to stay quiet shattered piece by piece after that, breaths turning into soft moans she couldn’t swallow fast enough every time his pace deepened or his mouth found her neck again.
And God, her neck. He kept returning there like instinct demanded it.
His lips brushing the mark he’d left earlier. His teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her shiver violently beneath him. More than once she felt the sharp edge of his fangs against her pulse and every single time his body reacted to it too, movements turning rougher for a second before he forced himself to pull back from the temptation.
The restraint itself became intoxicating. Because she could feel how badly he wanted to lose it. And still—he didn’t. Not with her.
“Look at me,” he murmured once, voice strained as he lifted her chin gently between his fingers.
She did. And the expression on his face almost undid her completely.
Centuries of hunger. Control. Loneliness. Want. All of it looking back at her at once. The realization hit her hard enough that she pulled him down into another kiss herself this time, desperate and breathless, her legs tightening around him as though trying to keep him impossibly closer.
That finally broke the last of his control. The pace turned harder after that, sharper thrusts pulling helpless sounds from her mouth while his own breathing grew heavier against her skin, rough sounds slipping from him more openly now every time she reacted to him. The bed shifted softly beneath them, sheets tangled around damp limbs while one of his hands slid possessively along her thigh, then higher, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.
And somehow, despite how overwhelming he felt above her—
Every touch still carried restraint. Like even now, with her trembling beneath him and his own control hanging by threads, some part of him remained terrified of taking too much.
The room had dissolved into heat, tangled sheets and breath long before either of them realized it. Nothing outside existed anymore.
His body over hers, moving with growing desperation now, all the restraint that had defined him around her finally unraveling piece by piece beneath her hands. Every sound she made dragged another reaction from him immediately, rough breaths turning into low groans against her skin while his grip tightened instinctively at her waist and thigh like he couldn’t bear even an inch of distance anymore.
And she was just as gone. Every slow, careful attempt to stay quiet had disappeared somewhere between his mouth on her throat and the way he kept looking at her like she was undoing centuries of control with every touch. Now her breaths came openly, uneven and trembling, fingers digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks while the pressure building inside her became almost unbearable again.
“Remmick…” his name broke from her helplessly.
A strained groan left him immediately as he buried his face against her neck, his movements turning deeper, rougher, no longer measured by patience but by need. She felt his teeth against her pulse again, sharper this time, his control visibly hanging by threads while one hand slid beneath her thigh to pull her impossibly closer.
The mattress shifted beneath them in uneven rhythm while his breathing grew heavier against her throat, every movement dragging both of them closer to the edge they’d been circling for hours now. Her nails scraped lightly down his back, the reaction pulled from him immediately and wrecked.
“You’re killing me,” he muttered roughly against her skin.
The irony almost made her laugh if she’d been capable of forming thoughts anymore.
Instead she kissed him again desperately, fingers sliding into his damp hair while her body arched against him instinctively, chasing more, needing more. That finally shattered whatever composure he had left. His pace lost its last restraint.
The sound she made at the sudden intensity tore something low and ruined from his chest while his hand tightened possessively at her waist, holding her firmly against him as though he planned to keep her there forever. His mouth stayed at her throat now, breaths hot against damp skin, occasional grazes of his fangs making her shiver violently beneath him every single time.
And when she finally broke— He felt it instantly.
Her entire body tightened around him with a breathless sound that nearly turned into his name again, pleasure crashing through her hard enough to leave her trembling beneath him while his grip around her almost became desperate trying to hold her through it.
The feeling of her falling apart beneath him finally dragged him over the edge with her.
A rough sound escaped him against her neck as his movements faltered hard, control snapping completely while he buried his face against her throat and let himself go for the first time all night. She felt the tension leave him all at once beneath her hands, his body shaking once from the force of it before he finally went still above her, breathing hard against her skin. For a long moment neither of them moved.
The room stayed dark and warm around them, sheets tangled around damp limbs while their breathing slowly tried to find rhythm again.
Remmick remained where he was for several seconds longer, forehead resting against her shoulder, one arm still wrapped tightly around her waist like instinct refused to let her go yet.
Then slowly—very slowly—he lifted his head.
His eyes found hers immediately. Still dark. Still hungry. But softer now in a way she hadn’t seen before. Her fingers brushed lightly through his damp hair.
Her fingers caressed him, tracing a path across his face, looking at him “Is this a dream?" she said more to herself than to him
Remmick looked at her with such eyes, he took her waist and pulled her closer to him, he took her by the chin; his hand covered most of her face. He stroked her cheek with his thumb and smiled, then leaned in and kissed her lips gently and slowly, almost tenderly.
"I should be asking myself the same” he said
She smiled, but suddenly, memories came rushing back to her, and the feeling returned, he noticed her mood changed.
“Shh, shh it's okay, it's okay" he hugged her
“Was everything real, Remmick?" She asked, hoping he would say no.
He didn't answer, not that fast, he just kept her with him, "I understand your pain “ he simply said and hugged harder. That made her start crying, that was all she needed, she started crying for the very first time for everything that had happened.
He doesn't have a heart, he could not feel, but he does understand the pain, the loss. When she felt the support in that hug, her tears turned in a river and she hugged him back, because she couldn't hold that feeling any more…
Minutes turned to hours, maybe just 1 hour with a couple minutes. He stayed there with her, holding her. She was better now, still hurt of course, but this was the first step to go through it.
She lifted her face to look at him, "you'll have to explain to me everything…” she said
"Anything, my love. You'll have your answers “ he said
“When I’m feeling better, I’ll ask you straight out. But for now… why haven't you turned me?” The words settled differently after everything that had just happened.
Remmick’s expression changed almost immediately, something older crossed his face then. Something tired. His thumb moved slowly along her waist beneath the sheets before he answered.
“Because dying like this…” his voice came quieter now, roughened by honesty instead of desire, “isn’t a gift, my love”
She stayed silent, watching him. He looked away briefly toward the dark room around them before continuing.
“People imagine eternity as something beautiful or powerful.” A faint humorless smile touched his mouth. “It isn’t.” His gaze returned to hers slowly. “Not when you watch everyone you love disappear while you remain exactly the same.”
Something in his eyes shifted there. Ancient. Lonely.
“I would drink from you forever if you asked me to,” he admitted softly. “But condemning you to this…” His hand slid up slowly until it rested against her throat again, thumb brushing carefully beneath the mark he left earlier. “That choice should never belong to hunger.”
The room fell quiet again after that. Only breathing. Only darkness. Only the weight of him beside her and the strange tenderness hidden beneath everything dangerous about him.
She stayed quiet after that, not because she had no questions left. But because suddenly, for the first time since the night began, exhaustion finally reached her. Outside, morning had fully arrived somewhere beyond the curtains, though the bedroom remained wrapped in shadows and fading warmth.
Remmick’s arm stayed around her waist when she settled closer again almost unconsciously, her head resting against his chest while silence filled the room softly this time instead of painfully.
He looked down at her for a long moment.
At the bruised mouth he had kissed raw. At the mark blooming slowly against her throat. At the woman who had opened the door anyway.
Something unreadable crossed his face then. Then slowly, almost instinctively, his hand moved into her hair and stayed there while she drifted toward sleep. And for the first time in a very long time— Remmick didn’t feel alone.
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