The sun beaming in from the window, I opened my eyes groggily. I was in a large bed that was not my own. Covered in sheets that weren't mine. I blinked in astonishment and then lifted my head and looked around the room. This was definately not my room.
My eyes wondered over to the darkest corner, where a figure stood, his head cocked to the side, as if in confusion. Then, studying his face, everything flashed back to me in an instant, and I gasped, startled.
Images of the last night flew past my eyes so quickly. An image of a man on the ground, bleeding. Me rushing to to come to his aid. His words, so sweet and calming even in his dying hour, telling me what he was. Me offering my blood to him despite all that. Where was my head? What was I thinking? It was as if I had stepped out of my fairy tale, one with unicorns and rainbows, into one with vampires and cloudy skies.
Sitting up in the bed I stared at the vampire who's life I had saved, and I suppose after him sucking my blood, I must have passed out. I gathered my thoughts together and tried to form a question or something, but came up blank. I just stared off, thinking of what my life had been before. Boring, routine, tideous. And now my life suddenly had something mysterious, rare, and not to mention a bit scary.
Who was he? Did he want my blood even more now? Had I done something terribly wrong? His face didn't answer any questions. He was composed, yet curious. He observed me as if I was naked. I looked down and quickly pulled the covers over myself. I was naked. I gasped and blushed red, then, threw myself back on the bed, covering myself in the sheets.
Somehow this gave me the courage to speak, and now I actually had something to say.
"Why am I naked?" I asked, staring at the thin threads in the sheet, as if waiting for them to give me an answer.
I heard a light chuckle and shuffeling of feet, coming closer. He sat on the edge of the bed and was silent. Then, as I was about the ask again, he answered.
"Your clothes had blood stains on them, so I took them off and washed them for you." He said in a soft, calm voice.
I stared at the threads for a while, then pulled the sheets off my head and looked at him. He was only a few feet away from me, but I could feel his eyes on me, most likely expecting me to flee. But I was just as curious as he was, even more so probably.
"Thank you." I said, finally finding my voice. "Um... would you mind getting them for me?" I asked.
He bowed his head and went to retreive my clothes. He was back too soon for me to collect my thoughts. He handed me my clothed, folded neatly, and our fingers touched for a moment; his oddly warm, and mine cold. I dropped the clothing onto the bed, and pulled his hand closer, rubbing it against my cheek. It was so warm, and I was so cold.
After holding his hand to my cheek for a minute, I opened my eyes to see his inquisitive face, and I pulled away blushing a deep red.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed. He starred at me and a smile crossed his face. It looked like it didn't belong there, like he had never smiled. I laughed lightly at his face, and his smile got bigger, brighter, more welcoming. I tentatively reached for his hand again, holding his to mine. He sat next to me on the bed as I held my hand to his, warming it. Then I straightened them out and found his hands to be much bigger than mine. His fingers longer, and stronger. I pressed the nubs of my fingers to his. I then moved from his hands to his face, stroking his cheek softly.
His cheek was smooth and just as warm as his hands. I felt his whole face. His angular jaw, his straight nose, his thin face, his fine lips. I didn't miss a part of him. This was a new experience for me. I had never been this close to a man, never had a man to be close to. Now, all of a sudden, I was touching a man I knew nothing about, naked.
I stopped, my hand still on his face, on his lips. His eyes were closed, and he raised his hand to mine and kissed my fingers, sending tingles down my back. He smiled, satisfied.
"Why did you stop?" He asked. I was silent and he opened his eyes to see me blushing. He dropped his hand slowly, unwillingly. I took my hand back, and brought up my legs, wrapping my arms around them and resting my chin on my knees. I stared at him as he stared back, both of us silent; it wasn't an awkward silence, it was soothing, calm. I smiled lightly and I think I saw a smile play across his face, but it vanished too quickly for me to know for sure.
I blinked and then realized I should probably dress, but I didn't want to tell him to leave. I grabbed the clothes he had brought for me and dressed in them under the sheets. When I reappeared from the covers he had a huge smile on his face, and was chuckling, amused. I giggled and smiled at him, then asked.
"What's your name?"
My eyes wondered over to the darkest corner, where a figure stood, his head cocked to the side, as if in confusion. Then, studying his face, everything flashed back to me in an instant, and I gasped, startled.
Images of the last night flew past my eyes so quickly. An image of a man on the ground, bleeding. Me rushing to to come to his aid. His words, so sweet and calming even in his dying hour, telling me what he was. Me offering my blood to him despite all that. Where was my head? What was I thinking? It was as if I had stepped out of my fairy tale, one with unicorns and rainbows, into one with vampires and cloudy skies.
Sitting up in the bed I stared at the vampire who's life I had saved, and I suppose after him sucking my blood, I must have passed out. I gathered my thoughts together and tried to form a question or something, but came up blank. I just stared off, thinking of what my life had been before. Boring, routine, tideous. And now my life suddenly had something mysterious, rare, and not to mention a bit scary.
Who was he? Did he want my blood even more now? Had I done something terribly wrong? His face didn't answer any questions. He was composed, yet curious. He observed me as if I was naked. I looked down and quickly pulled the covers over myself. I was naked. I gasped and blushed red, then, threw myself back on the bed, covering myself in the sheets.
Somehow this gave me the courage to speak, and now I actually had something to say.
"Why am I naked?" I asked, staring at the thin threads in the sheet, as if waiting for them to give me an answer.
I heard a light chuckle and shuffeling of feet, coming closer. He sat on the edge of the bed and was silent. Then, as I was about the ask again, he answered.
"Your clothes had blood stains on them, so I took them off and washed them for you." He said in a soft, calm voice.
I stared at the threads for a while, then pulled the sheets off my head and looked at him. He was only a few feet away from me, but I could feel his eyes on me, most likely expecting me to flee. But I was just as curious as he was, even more so probably.
"Thank you." I said, finally finding my voice. "Um... would you mind getting them for me?" I asked.
He bowed his head and went to retreive my clothes. He was back too soon for me to collect my thoughts. He handed me my clothed, folded neatly, and our fingers touched for a moment; his oddly warm, and mine cold. I dropped the clothing onto the bed, and pulled his hand closer, rubbing it against my cheek. It was so warm, and I was so cold.
After holding his hand to my cheek for a minute, I opened my eyes to see his inquisitive face, and I pulled away blushing a deep red.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed. He starred at me and a smile crossed his face. It looked like it didn't belong there, like he had never smiled. I laughed lightly at his face, and his smile got bigger, brighter, more welcoming. I tentatively reached for his hand again, holding his to mine. He sat next to me on the bed as I held my hand to his, warming it. Then I straightened them out and found his hands to be much bigger than mine. His fingers longer, and stronger. I pressed the nubs of my fingers to his. I then moved from his hands to his face, stroking his cheek softly.
His cheek was smooth and just as warm as his hands. I felt his whole face. His angular jaw, his straight nose, his thin face, his fine lips. I didn't miss a part of him. This was a new experience for me. I had never been this close to a man, never had a man to be close to. Now, all of a sudden, I was touching a man I knew nothing about, naked.
I stopped, my hand still on his face, on his lips. His eyes were closed, and he raised his hand to mine and kissed my fingers, sending tingles down my back. He smiled, satisfied.
"Why did you stop?" He asked. I was silent and he opened his eyes to see me blushing. He dropped his hand slowly, unwillingly. I took my hand back, and brought up my legs, wrapping my arms around them and resting my chin on my knees. I stared at him as he stared back, both of us silent; it wasn't an awkward silence, it was soothing, calm. I smiled lightly and I think I saw a smile play across his face, but it vanished too quickly for me to know for sure.
I blinked and then realized I should probably dress, but I didn't want to tell him to leave. I grabbed the clothes he had brought for me and dressed in them under the sheets. When I reappeared from the covers he had a huge smile on his face, and was chuckling, amused. I giggled and smiled at him, then asked.
"What's your name?"
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