As Talia met Ulysses’ eyes for a moment, almost as if he was begging her, the girl felt a pinch on her chest. t felt like betrayal. Although she did need a few bottles of wine (just to tell herself that she was capable of getting numb so easily), that hadn’t been her priority as she walked towards the kitchen. It never had been. From the moment she had heard Ulysses’ words, Talia knew what she had to do. She had tricked him and there was no way she could know the consequences of her actions. They had a lot of years of built friendship and understanding, but this situation wasn’t one Talia had ever thought about – not in a million years. If asked, she wouldn’t know what to say; why had she put such a good relationship at risk, just because she hated seeing him like that? It wasn’t logical, the pros didn’t outweigh the cons – and then she realized, her head hadn’t been the one to make the decision.
He was certainly faster now. The only warning she had gotten of his presence, so close to her, had been the light breeze his fast movement had brought to where she stood and soon after, she felt the warmth of his mouth on her wrist and was overcome with something she had never felt before – she labelled it as simply the new feeling of being used as something to feed from, but it wasn’t certain if it was just that. Talia kept her eyes on Ulysses’ and, as he fell, she kept her stance, letting him guide her wrist wherever he needed it to go.
Without thinking, her free hand found its way to the back of his head, resting atop of it and absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair, almost as if she needed something to distract her from the fact that she had just allowed someone to feed from her, allowed herself to become prey, in a sense. She trusted Ulysses, however, wholeheartedly. And she also knew that he was aware that, should he not stop when she asked him to, then she was strong enough to fight him off. She never took her eyes off of him, though – it was kind of fascinating, in a sense, to her and Talia could swear it was one of the most intimate moments she had shared with Ulysses.
ulysses was not being careful, soft, modest, but it felt like heaven not to be. with her fingers in his hair, he felt at ease. he felt as if what he was doing could be okay. he needed it, and she could stop him. but he knew it was only the euphoria. when he pulled himself from her, he would be awash with the greatest hatred he could muster. this was his best friend, the love of his life --- how could he treat her like this ? how could he have so little self control that talia became this ? feeding was not against his nature in any way, but he felt as if it was the most heartless thing he had ever done. it had not yet hardened him. blood felt as necessary as air.
but he needed to be done. he wasn’t going to take more than was enough for him to stand straight, to speak full sentences, for his veins to feel fluid again. he pulled his mouth from her wrist, his hand still gripping it. he stared too long and when the blood resurfaced from the wound, he took it for himself, his tongue and lips collected it and he hovered there, eyes closed. he could smell when new blood trickled out, the wound much less bloody than before, but his nose pressed against the top of her wrist. he dropped her arm, however, and ripped away from it, his face pressing into her stomach. he needed it away from him, needed to find a way to block out the scent. it seemed foolish, but to bury himself in her scent worked okay. the blood was still everywhere around him, buzzing in his ears with want, but a calmness made it easy to stay there.
after moments and far too much thinking, however, he sat back on his heels, removing himself from all of her. he stared downward, blood filling the cracks between his lips. he glanced upward at her eyes, but he couldn’t bear to look at them and his head fell, eyes closing to prevent them from welling up. he had never earned the title of monster more.
