Brit looked out of the second floor window. It had stopped raining. Peering over the railing, she noted that the water had still submerged the first floor. Returning to her pillow, she laid across it and took a deep breath. Brit was breathing easier. Even though she continued to cough and sneeze a bit, her fever was gone. Omega had suggested that she rest, and Ethan had not been able to travel to the library to get her. Coloring had been suggested but Brit did not feel up to the strain of drawing and, therefore, she did something she never had done before: She looked at the pictures she had drawn before.
Turning the pages, she noticed the picture she had colored a few days after Ethan had become her beloved. Her brow furrowed as she noticed there was no picture of the night on the rooftop. Looking again to the window, she blinked rhythmically. She focused and realized that a year had passed. Sitting in the quiet of the library, she counted. It was too confusing. She went to get a calendar and stared at it. Her fingers touched the date of October 14th. A year had passed!
Brit crawled to the library window and stared up at the rooftop across the street at the spot she first saw Ethan. They had not become beloveds right away. Months passed. For a time, he had gone into torpor. Forty days and nights passed. Day in and out, she had watched over him and cared for him as he lay dormant. She ensured he was clean of dust and debris, and she read to him daily. Days passed. She brushed his hair and took the liberty of really observing him. She even moved his lips so she could view his fangs. Prior to Ethan, fangs terrified her.
When it was time for him to wake, she was excited to see him moving again even though she felt a small sense of loss. It was the first time Brit ever felt a purpose. She felt that he needed her. Prior to torpor, he had given her clear instructions to pull the dagger and leave. Brit pulled the dagger, but could not leave. Ethan turned his back on her and said tersely, “Brit, you are not safe here.” She knew then that he needed her. Rather than leaving, she offered her wrist. Others arrived on the rooftop, but she was attached to him as he drank from her wrist. At that moment, Brit felt that he needed her and they were rarely apart again.
A few nights later, on October 14th, they were both at the spot where Brit first saw Ethan. She peeked back up at it as if to see him standing there. An odd being said, “Hello, dead one. Are you luring or preying?” Ethan responded and the subject of lies was brought up by the being. Ethan said that he could determine whether someone had lied easily. This was curious as Brit had just learned of lies. She asked him to demonstrate by asking what he could see in her mind.
Ethan seemed startled, but removed his glasses to comply with her request. He looked at her eyes. She found herself unable to look away thinking his eyes were as beautiful as the rest of him. Brit remembered feeling almost linked in the gaze. Her cheeks flushed pink remembering his whisper, “Quite unique. Especially for a human girl.” He turned and mechanically took his hand, and he did not pull back when she clasped it. The nearness was comforting and she stepped closer to brush back his hair.
At some point, the strange being faded away. Brit enjoyed being with him. When Brit neared him, his hand seemed to shake a bit. Brit could no longer feel the presence within as she could moments ago. As she came closer, Ethan’s eyes were less radiant and he held her hand a bit tighter. With a tilt of his head, he seemed to be staring at something rare in front of him. His eyes seemed more focused on what was in front of him rather that what laid beyond her eyes.
Stepping closer, Brit idly touched his hair as if he were still in torpor. Ethan did not move for several minutes nor did he say a word. His hand reached out and lightly touched his hair. He pulled her to him slowly. Ethan ran his hand through her hair once. Twice. His face seemed to show a hint of conflict as if Ethan was having second thoughts about what he was feeling; and then, Ethan leaned a bit forward as if wanting to close most f the gap between them.
Brit felt his hand grow warmer and she watched as he moved closer. Unbeknownst to her, she also leaned a bit closer in return. Ethan ran a finger down her cheek before outlining her lips before touching her face. Moving his fingers away from her lips, he gently stroked her face after pulling back. Then he closed his eyes and leaned in again barely touching her lips with his. Brit’s eyes did not close and she stood statue straight as she felt his lips touch hers. It was so light that she was unsure whether it had really happened.
Ethan pulled back a moment gauging her reaction and then leaned forward again to softly place a second kiss on her lips, and he swore that his heart was beating in his chest. Brit’s hand clung to his and her eyes closed on the second kiss remaining so after he broke the kiss. She blinked slowly a few more times before closing her eyes and mimicking his motion as she returned his most gentle kiss. Ethan felt his senses heighten and he pulled her closer to him to feel her lips on his again. This time, the kiss was bolder. And like before, it was returned.
Later, they continued to watch the city from the rooftop. The shouts and screams meant nothing to either of them. It was true that she had experienced nothing of love or lovers, but she whispered, “I think I always knew you would be my lover.”
Ethan grinned playfully and held her really close for a moment. The shouts and screams from the city below did not distract either of them. “I’m very lucky indeed,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her.
It was at that moment that Brit realized that, with his nearness, her mind was peacefully at rest. Usually, Brit struggled with thousands of sensations but, with him near, Brit found none of the usual distractions. She liked the feeling of him close to her. Wanting to offer him something, she whispered, “I’ll describe sunrise for you every day if you want.”
His arms tightened around her. “That might well be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. Brit remembered it all as she waited for him to come to the library for her. She hoped the rain would stop so he could remember the past year with her on the rooftop.
[Ethan, this morning’s sunrise was a deep pink along the horizon blanketed above by dark purple clouds. As you raise your eyes to the sky above, there was a vibrant tangerine that faded into a creamy orange color melding into light blue. Traveling to the west, the sky had a darker shade of blue. I hope I always describe sunrises to you. Happy 1st anniversary.]
((Taken from RP))
Brit woke disoriented and drenched. Outside, the rain continued to pour down hard and the streets were silent. There was fire. Turning her head quickly, she blinked and then recognized the warm hearth of the library fireplace. Trying to piece together events of the evening before, she clawed her wet hair matted to her face. Sitting up, she pushed back Denny’s cape that she had swaddled around her. The library was quiet. Grr looked up from where he worked nearby. She heard Joah’s voice mingled with Faye Li’s somewhere near along with Omega’s. Comforting, but where was Ethan?
Blinking slowly, she watched the flames jump and remembered being in the Shelter with her beloved. He was talking to someone. “I suppose it is all a big circle in the city,” he had said. There was something about the factory. It was not about the guests who had to work off a theft of fuel from there. She closed her eyes and tried to remember. There was a girl with a mechanical smile who made healthy soups. Apollo was mentioning cookies. Brit felt very cold while they spoke and Ethan had cuddled her to him. Then it happened: A tickle of her nose that caused her to sneeze.
Brit could not remember what people were talking about. She recalled that she was shivering as she accepted the hanky Ethan had given her to assist with her dripping nose. His hand slid to her head. Apollo and the girl with the mechanical smile were continuing to discuss soups. Something about shellfish. Something about ways to make them safe to eat. Ethan had blinked and said, “Okay. This is exactly why I said not to forget your raincoat or umbrella, Brit.” He quickly wrapped up his conversations and directed Brit upstairs. Ethan’s jaw clenched and she was quite certain that he was cross with her.
As they were leaving, Apollo mentioned a nurse who was suited for other purposes than nursing. Closing her eyes tightly, Brit remembered feeling very tired as she made it to their resting place and Ethan checking her over. He counted her heartbeats and placed his lips to her forehead. “My head hurts,” she told him. “My nose feels tickly.” His eyes turned dark as he listened while he continued to methodically check her vital signs. “I’m cold,” she whispered.
Turning her away from him, he said sternly, “You will drink now.” His expression made it obvious that he expected nothing more than compliance. Raising his left sleeve, he flexed his fist before bringing his wrist to his mouth and biting down. Hugging her from behind, he held his opened wrist to her mouth and noted that she was stuffy and had a bit of trouble swallowing. His strict expression flashed to worry and he held her a bit tighter. The night was getting late. He had her drink deeply and pulled her to him as he drifted off after feeling that she seemed stronger.
Flames crackled in the fireplace. Brit remembered leaving the Shelter. It was too early for Ethan to wake. Congested. She found her chest hurt when she took breaths. The coughing had started and sneezing grew worse. Feeling weak, she vaguely remembered dodging large puddles to make her way to the library. Joah. She remembered that she had come to find Joah. When she entered, she was greeted by Grr and Joah. Faye Li was there and Omega arrived right after Brit did. Brit remembered some conversation between sneezes. She wanted to be sure that those at the library prepared for the rising waters just in case there was another flood. The small talk made her forget why she had arrived.
“Do you have a cold, Brit?” It was Joah’s voice. She was unsure what it meant, but she felt freezing. Brit had never had so much as a sniffle before. The sneezing and coughing was bewildering. She explained that Ethan told her that she had been in the rain too much and Grr indicated that Ethan was old enough to know.
Omega walked to Brit and gently placed her hand on Brit’s forehead only to find it hot and clammy. Omega sighed, “You’re ill.” With concern, Omega quizzed Brit. “Does it hurt to breathe? How long have you been coughing?” Omega nodded as Brit answered. “Such infections are not as serious as they once were, but best to be on the safe side, yes? You must drink a lot of water and juice, Brit.” Brit explained that she had also drank of Ethan’s vitae and Omega responded, “Ethan’s vitae will make you feel better and you must also feed yourself in more traditional ways.”
After inquiring whether Ethan would mind if they helped, all sprung to action. Grr made a warm soup of items from his pack. Brit vaguely recalled packets of items along with a blue enameled mug and a long, intact celery stalk. He poured in water from his canteen. Omega conversed to herself as she diagnosed a classic flu and stated through pursed lips, “Broad spectrum antibiotics.” Grr chopped celery with his KA-BAR knife and added it to the mug. “I do not think you are seriously ill, Brit, but these things can become serious quickly. You must rest. No running around. You must sit, and read, or colour.” Reflecting on gentler times, she said, “Perhaps some embroidery.”
Joah stepped back biting her lip and opened a book. Grr continued to mix the concoction in the mug and placed it into the flames to heat. Omega had offered Brit some antibiotic tablets telling her to discuss them with Ethan before taking them. Brit looked at the tablets thinking they seemed like magic beans. Joah was silent. Omega said, “Joah, look outside. I need you healthy for what is coming. If it becomes necessary, we will do what needs to be done. For now, let us look to mundane solutions.”
All were quiet for a time simply watching Grr work. Omega told Grr, “I will need a list of ingredients for that brew you are making. Ethan will want to know. As do I.” Grr nodded and stirred the liquid. The celery and other items started to swirl in the steaming soup. “I hardly think Ethan will object over a coup of soup, but best to keep him fully informed, don’t you think, Brit?”
Grr said, “Oh. Sure. Is he resting?”
After a coughing fit, Brit rubbed her nose and worried that Ethan would be unhappy with her for being sick. To Grr, she nodded “He will be okay with it. He said fluids, food, and um…onion poultices if I were not better when he woke.”
Omega smiled, “Yes. All good ideas.” Grr listed miso paste, shitaki mushroom, dried seaweed, sesame seeds and small dried prawns along with some fresh celery. Omega added, “Perhaps Ethan will allow one or two cures from this century too.” To Grr, she commended, “A good soup.”
Brit curled up with Denny’s cape in front of the fire and sipped the soup when Grr gave it to her. She enjoyed the salty taste, but realized that salt was all that she could taste. Omega, Faye Li, Joah, and Grr discussed terms for the Japanese people through the ages and all agreed that Celestials was a pleasing term.
Onion poultices as medicinal techniques were discussed. Brit wrinkled her stuffed nose at the mere sound of it and thought that her fine milled soap would never take a scent of such a thing away. Joah suggested, “Or some use eucalyptus.” A vivid picture of a eucalyptus poultice formed in her mind.
Omega agreed that a eucalyptus and menthol after admitting that onion poultices were not so pleasant, which was why they had fallen out of favor. Joah was asked to prepare the former with supplies on hand upstairs. Brit nibbled the soup appreciatively between coughing and sneezes. Omega reassured her, “If you are a good girl and drink lots of soup and juices, and if you rest, you will feel better soon.”
Joah and Faye Li went to the lab to create an inhalant to help sooth Brit’s breathing. Brit inquired whether it would have garlic and explained that Ethan found garlic repulsive. She also indicated that he was grouchy over her sneezes. “Grouchy, is he?” said Omega. Dryly, she smiled and said, “Yes. Well. Your delightful husband will have to learn there are some occasional issues with a mortal wife.” Upstairs, Joah and Faye Li conversed quietly while mixing the ingredients for the inhalant. Brit sipped the rest of the soup and was comforted by Grr as she shivered from time to time before the fire. Brit vaguely recalled Omega saying, “Hello, Jason. Have you come to try to kill someone today or are you just here to chat about the weather?”
Brit blinked slowly as she tried to remember the events. Jason and Omega talked. Grr discussed his soup as Brit shivered by the flames. Brit remembers a scent of peppermint, eucalyptus, and other scents filling the room. She thinks she may have dozed off only waking to Joah’s gentle touch. Using a t-shirt, Joah covered it in the heady scent of the oils mixed to help break up the congestion after testing it on Grr. His exclamation of “It works! It works! Dammit, get it away! For the love of a scent!”
Deciding against the t-shirt, Joah found a piece of flannel. Brit told Joah softly, “Sniffles…and…my ears itch…and my throat feels scratchy.” Joah also noted that Brit’s fever was up. Grr reassured Brit that getting well will take some time. He ensured she was dry and comfortable in front of the flames. Even Jason showed a hint of concern.
Joah placed some of the mixture on the flannel after heating it. Then she knelt by Brit. “Do you mind if I pin this just inside of your dress, Brit? It will help you breathe.” Brit held still while Joah tucked the flannel inside poultice to skin and pinned each side to Brit’s chemise. As her hand touched the flannel, it seemed to heat up again. The strong scent drifted up to Brit’s nose. Joah ensured Brit’s dress was properly arranged.
Brit could not smell the strong scent. She felt exhausted. Joah leaned over and touched her lips to Brit’s forehead lingering a moment with her eyes closed. “The lady was right. You do have an infection.” Brit did not fully comprehend anything other than she felt terrible. Joah explained that Brit would get better, and said that Ethan’s vitae was a natural antibiotic for her of sorts. Brit did not realize that she had started to breath through her nose again. Nor did she realize that, with Joah’s soft check to her forehead, her fever dropped dramatically. And at some point in the night, her fever broke soaking her.
Brit continued to lie on the pillow in front of the fire. Just a few more moments, she thought…then she would go shower and find Ethan. It was a good plan. Her eyes blinked and she slept again waking nearer to when Ethan would wake.
As the sun sank beneath the horizon, Ethan’s eyes opened. It mattered not that he lived in a place where others like him could walk boldly in the daylight hours. Old habits die hard and Ethan could never shake the feeling that the smog and darkness could simply clear with a strong blow from the sea and he would be reduced to dust after 1500 years. Even during bleak times, it was a sobering thought. Brit was snuggled against him and both of them were practically swaddled with multiple blankets. When he shifted, she whimpered a protest at the breaking the warm seal around them which allowed some of the night’s coolness to touch her skin. At the sound, Ethan froze for a moment to ensure he was not rousing her from her slumber.
While lying as still as a corpse next to her, Ethan’s thoughts raced replaying the previous evening over in his head. He was curious. Inching down her side, he pressed against her soft, healed flesh feeling the indentations beneath her skin. His eyes widened as he remembered her soft whisper, “Bite me here.” Her fingers had directed his hand to her taunt upper tummy. Naturally, he complied. Brit never made such requests. His fingers pressed again and the memory flooded his mind. Her skin had been damp from the rain and slightly sweaty from trudging through the streets. He had bitten her neck as he shielded her from others on the street and the rain that continued to pour from the sky.
After so many years, Ethan prided himself on having a clear mind but on this evening he could not recall the sequence of events that led them to the hidden room. His wife at one point told him, “Drink me slow.” As he pieced the memory together, he grinned slightly as his fingers continued to trail along the bites. That was said as he drank, or started to drink, while in the street. Licking his lips in the memory, they had moved to the taxi to continue, but she indicated that she was seeking more. “Bite me here.” Was it a telepathic thought or were the words said. He could not remember and her sleeping mind did not respond when he gave it his own silent nudge. Brit only yielded another whimper of protest when more cold air slipped beneath the blankets.
Within the hidden room, he built a fire in the fireplace and waited to be sure that the chimney still could produce a draw to let smoke exit the room. Peeling off wet clothing, the fire warmed skin as it dried garments. “Bite me here,” she said again. He wondered whether it was the first bite to the tummy or the second onto the hip. His fingers traced down her sleeping form until he pressed the area also healed where more indentations had made. The caress made her writhe slightly as she mumbled something still deep in sleep. Ethan had never bitten anyone in either location before and neither yielded much blood. The first spot was unusual. He sipped and felt that he should have heard the sound one made when drinking the dregs of a delicious milkshake. The sweetness of the blood was almost a tease. The second yielded a small, thin vein. The blood was so deoxygenated. He could almost feel the cells crying for air. It reminded him of being human and craving water when there was only honey.
Brit had asked him to drink her slow when still outside. The beast within caused his muscles to bunch and shake as he struggled to comply with the request. Feeling the fire warm his back, Ethan wanted to grab tightly and drink deeply. His fingers had dug deeply into her skin as he forced himself to continue to take sips. Another sound of protest was heard from beneath the blankets and Ethan realized that his fingers were again pressing into her flesh. He had not breathed in years and felt a desire to pull in air to stave the intoxicating feelings. Again he froze in place and once again, she snuggled against him continuing to sleep.
Down her body to her thigh, his fingers wandered. Ethan remembered Brit’s lisped whisper as she said, “Bite me here.” His lips parted slightly and his fangs lengthened at the memory of drinking from her there. The feeling of her skin on his cheek as he kissed her softly until he got to the point where her finger lingered and sunk into her flesh was almost burned into his memory like a branding iron had placed it there. The popping feeling of the artery that filled his mouth with blood caused him to blink as he remembered every moment that he drank the oxygen-rich blood from her thigh. There was no drinking slowly and he found that he could not help but drink deeply until he felt her fingers cool on his cheek. He had to stop. The struggle to break something so desired to save someone so treasured was etched into his memory as well.
Ethan had pulled his fangs from her thigh and could feel the beast scream from within. He grappled her and pulled her roughly to him. Breathless was the only feeling that he could think to describe the moment. He held her protectively and focused on his love for her. It was an odd feeling to protect someone loved from oneself. He stared ahead at the wall behind the flames in the fireplace while pulling his wrist to his lips. Opening a vein, he held it to her lips knowing she needed to heal. Even still, he could not help tasting miniscule droplets from her wrist as she sipped from his. Greed, he thought, the greatest deadly sin. He felt confident that he would never succumb to the beast when his beloved was involved. Kissing her hair, Ethan held Brit until she woke.
((Taken from RP))Sitting by the water, Ethan picked up a handful of pebbles offering half to Brit along with a sweet kiss. He settled her back against him listening to her babble about the Shelter while he had gone to rest. “The kitty brother and sister are sweet. Though, they were so frightened of Gwyn last night and still asked if I needed protection.”
Cocking a brow, Ethan asked, “What do you mean frightened of Gwyn? Did anything happen that made Gwyn look like a threat to you?” His next pebble flew quite a distance before hitting water indicating that his mood hand ceased to be relaxed. “You do mean Gwyn from the Coven, correct?”
Brit nodded and started to explain. “Last night, Merma, Poncho and Gwyn were having milk and cookies. And suddenly Gwyn seemed sad.” She mused for a moment and added, “She was sad after seeing a picture of Nikita and Pieter. Then…the kitties came…and Poncho and Merma left…and Gwyn went outside.” Brit stopped often trying to get the events exactly right. Ethan stroked her arm and listened patiently. Nodding, she continued, “Gwyn conjured a storm I think…and the kitties were scared. Mya and Son. I think it was just Gwyn having a hissy fit over the picture, but I do not know why.”
Blinking, Ethan recreated the scene in his mind. “But she has never seemed to act vengeful toward you. She just seemed to grow angry or upset about that picture?” Brit nodded and Ethan said, “Most curious.” Ethan looked to the toxic water for a while and seemed to relax. “Okay, Brit. I will not need to speak with her then. I do hope you were not upset that the kitties grew frightened.”
“Kitties seem to scare easily,” Brit lisped. She dropped a pebble watching the rings spread from where it dropped in to the water. “Ethan, I think something happened to Gwyn. And I think she is a little like Nikita in her magic.” Snuggling against him, she said, “I am out of cookies. And the rain spotted my nightgown.”
Ethan started to respond about the kitties, Gwyn, and Nikita’s magic. He blinked yet again and threw another pebble further than normal. Looking puzzled, Ethan asked, “Why would your nightgown get rain spots on it? Did it rain in our resting place?”
Brit explained that the rain was blowing through the door of the shelter and Ethan remembered seeing the splatters on her white slippers. He blinked again as he dropped more pebbles and pulled her closer protectively. “You were outside of our resting place in your nightgown? Downstairs…at the entrance, even?” She nodded and he felt his jaw muscle flex slightly before kissing her forehead. His voice was calm when he continued, “Baby, I do not think it is proper for a lady to be up and about in her nightgown. Nightgowns are reserved for our resting place and for the viewing pleasure of your husband alone.”
Brit dropped a few pebbles into the water as she thought of what he had said. “But….Ethan, my nightgown covers me like a blanket almost.” She mused about the length and continued, “It has more layers than my dresses and covers my legs and wrists.” She did not understand the differences. “Merma liked the bows you put in my hair.”
Ethan nodded, but clarified, “Brit, I know that it covers more, but it is a nightgown. It is not intended by its maker to be worn in public or on streets. By using it differently than its true purpose, its role as an item was not respected.” He took a few of her pebbles back and dropped them in the water silently. After a moment of silence, he said, “And I do not want you in nightgowns in the midst of others. It is not about how revealing or not it is.”
Brit puffed her cheeks and cuddled against him. Her voice was a soft whine, “But what if I want some cookies after you rest?” She tossed a pebble in the water after his and watched the ring. Finally, she asked, “What is its purpose?”
Ethan replied calmly, “The nightgown is to wrap my love up in a package that I would consider attractive to unwrap her from. So, if you get hungry or thirsty at night just make your way to the kitchen quickly. And return quickly. But do try to remain undetected.” Peeking down to her, he grinned picturing her tiptoeing in her white slippers.
Stammering, Brit asked, “In my nightgown?” More pebbles dropped in the water. She mentally made her plan to raid the refrigerator. She would move down the hall quickly and continue down the steps. Once there, she planned to grab the milk and cookies and run back.
Nodding normally, Ethan gestured, “In your nightgown, perhaps throw a little jacket or something over your shoulders. Just so you do not catch a cold in the middle of the night.” He pressed her body against his side and kissed her cheek. “Just like a good girl,” he said low. “My good girl,” he clarified.
Brit repeated back to him, “So, I wear my nightgown but hide from people. And wear a jacket over it if I go get anything when wearing it?”
Ethan replied, “Well, not quite hiding, but just remember that it is something you should not wear when you know that you will most likely encounter someone.” Watching his wife, he paused searching for an example, “Brit, the nightgown is pretty, but I would not have you wear it when we go out to dinner with my friends in Vienna, for example. As I said, it is for my personal viewing pleasure. Just as I am the only one who is allowed to peel it from you skin.”
Turning to him, she giggled as she pressed her palms against the ground to kiss him. She rubbed her nose against his and said, “You are the only one who can take my clothes off.” Kissing lightly, she added, “I remember..” With a bit of processing, she mused, “Nightgowns are a little bit like underwears and not for anyone but you to see.”
Nodding several times, Ethan gave Brit a soft kiss on the lips whispering, “Exactly.” His palm ran down her cheek to her neckline and a bit lower to the side of her body. “I am glad that you understand now.” Picking up another pebble, he dropped it in the water near to them. She dropped one beside it. They watched the circles entwined as they spread until the circles reached the shore.
The Shelter had opened. People were coming in. Brit and Ethan had spent all day organizing helpers and registering guests. The night passed quickly. Ethan checked the time and realized he only had a few hours before sunrise. Bidding all good night, he gathered Brit to him and returned to their resting place. “I’m proud of you, princess,” he told her. He was, in fact, most proud of her. She had worked tirelessly to ready the Shelter prior to it opening, and had worked beside him all day and even had taken initiative to greet the guests when they arrived frazzled and weary.
Brit gave him a warm smile and started to remove her clothing to get ready for rest. Ethan perched on the desk watching her silently. He noticed small things: The way her hand slightly trembled from exhaustion as she brushed her hair. The slight redness of her eyes as she washed her face. Ethan noticed that Brit was taking longer to respond when someone spoke to her. Almost as if she had forgotten, she picked up her hair brush again. Ethan walked behind her and kissed the curve of her neck while taking her brush. Settling her back against him, he started to brush her hair. Brit rested her chin silently on his knee. Only the sound of her breathing and the crackle of her hair as it was brushed could be heard.
Ethan shifted uncomfortably knowing she would not be so tired with his vitae. Another brush-stroke pulled her hair slightly. Her words telling him that she did not wish to share anymore once she was back as she was. His abdominal muscles tightened. Her asking why he no longer shared. He had swallowed hard before admitting that he was unsure whether he was meant to share. When Ethan realized Brit was not reacting in a typical way after having received his vitae, he wondered whether God had sent a message. “Who decides what is right for us, Ethan?” she had asked. His fingers caressed her hair. “I miss sharing,” she had told him.
Ethan stayed still for a while before turning her to him to make eye contact. “I wish to be right for you without turning you into something you should not be.” His fingers brushed her cheek, “Sometimes with your personality and traits, it is hard to distinguish between right and wrong.” He left it there for a moment pulling her closer until she was on his lap. Burying his face in her hair, Ethan kissed her neck. Brit turned to kiss him softly. One kiss led to another. Brit yearned for his closeness.
Brit could not get close enough since he had stopped sharing. She pulled away and processed his words while feeling him pulling her tightly. “You made me your wife. And that was right,” she whispered. Brit struggled to form the words she felt in her heart. “I love you, Ethan.” Her arms wrapped around his waist. More silence as she continued to process. “I am your wife.” Silence passed as they listened to one of the guests stumble into his room down the hall. Brit continued, “We should do what we want.”
Ethan kept her close on his lap and slowly caressed her skin, her neck, her shoulders and the sides of her body. He had started to share with her to shelter her when the city was sinking into chaos. Thinking of her words, he found that he too yearned for the closeness. He also yearned for her. Not just her blood, but her nearness. Her body heat. And he yearned for her to have every sense focused. “I want to do right by you.” Brit was relaxed on his lap. Kisses ensued as he went from her lips to her cheek only to slide down to her neck. His thoughts centered on her. Brushing his lips over her bruised bite marks, he thought that he had always just wanted the best for her.
The bruises did not stop him from biting down hard drinking of her as if his thirst was unquenchable. With each drink, he felt himself grow more relaxed and calmed. His fangs still long, he inhaled her scent running his tongue on the points. Uncertainty hung in his mind, but he pierced his tongue deeply almost flooding his mouth with vitae and savagely kissed her deeply leaving no doubt. Brit pulled back as the vitae jolted her senses that had been lulling due to the absence. Pulling him closer, she kissed deeply drinking and grew stronger with each swallow. Ethan knew that, like the building around them, his blood was not perfect, but it would make her safer.
When the kiss ended, Brit lisped, “Please do not push me away because I’m not what is expected in your world.” Ethan finished undressing her before taking his time to caress every inch of her. Pulling her close and tight, he found she wound around him like a vine. He was her husband and she was his wife. Sharing was their due.
Brit drew the picture. She changed crayons. She used the special ink that brought both motion and sound to the images. No matter what she tried, she could see the colors were not as wonderful as they had been. No matter how careful she was, the lines were not as sharp. Nothing was as good. She was no longer “better” and, what was even more disappointing was that she continued to slide from “better” each day.
Looking up at her husband who was going over the ledger to his newly opened shelter, she sighed softly. Ethan had become quiet and seemed slightly withdrawn during the past few days. While true that he kept her close, he drank less and did not offer to share with her. And so, she was fading in her enhanced abilities that made her better.
She stared at the page with her new drawing. A girl within a tornado made of flames. The flames crackled as they licked the girl’s skin and the girl seemed to glean energy from the fire. A girl she had met from the Voodoo Shop. The girl was pleased with the picture, but Brit found it lacking. She saw the difference that the girl did not. In time, Brit would not be able to differentiate. She looked at the other pictures in her book and tried to remember. She could tell which were done when she was better and which were done when it was her talent alone. Her fingers touched the pages for a while and she closed the book to simply watch Ethan.
She loved her husband, of course. She loved his patience, love, and gentleness with her but during the past few days, something had changed. On the derelict boat, they discussed the book he had selected for her to read. He looked over her drawings and grew quieter. At the end of the night, he hardly spoke at all. He told her that he was not angry with her. He said nothing was her fault. Even so, she felt his mood growing darker until he grabbed her and sank his fangs deep. Harder than he ever had and drank. Even after he stopped drinking, he kept his hold on her through the bite and toppled her to the floor of the boat.
The party raged on the pavilion barge next to the boat and Brit expected someone to board it. She laid on the bottom and was cradled in Ethan’s arms and listened to the music and shouts and laughter of the crowd. Normally, she would have enjoyed such things, but Ethan’s darkness clouded all of it. In fact, they seemed quite alone on the boat. Her throat hurt from the raw marks even if he closed them somewhat. The sharing would usually remove the bruises quickly, but without it, the bruises slowly healed over the next couple days.
On the third night, he engaged her in a game of chase as he often did before they were married. Even then, she felt a sense of playfulness about him was missing. He bit her as he chased, but not when he caught as he used to do. Brit ran and dodged. She could not lose him as she could before. Ethan said he was making it harder, but Brit knew it was due to the fading of abilities and attributes that sharing gave to her. She remembered long ago, after he had first shared with her, telling him that she had been better but it was fading. He told her not to worry about it and that such losses were normal.
Brit thought of the word “normal.” She knew that without his sharing, her state of normalcy was less than others. She realized during that first time that she could not think as quickly as others. She realized she could not think clearly as others either. It was the first time that Brit understood she was different and comprehended how she differed. It was an uncomfortable feeling. So many cared for her though and, when she told a few, they told her she had other gifts. Kindness was everywhere.
Looking back to Ethan, she watched. He was so beautiful in his movement. She watched the way his hair fell around his face like a black, inky frame. Would she notice it as clearly when she was normal again? She watched the glittery way the light reflected from his hair and the refined way he held his pen as he made annotations to his book. Would she notice the nuances of his actions tomorrow? Her thoughts were already shifting. She remembered the chase game where she so quickly winded and was unable to run any more. Would the games be as much fun for him when she could not run as far or as fast? And she noticed bruises on her throat when she bathed earlier. She had grown use to being healed come morning. Would he be able to sustain with her if she healed like normal? It was the last question that bothered her most of all.
Ethan closed his book and undressed to ready himself for rest. He helped her change and snuggled her to him quietly. Brushing her hair from her throat, he simply stroked the skin as if feeling her pulse beneath his fingers. He said nothing at all. He had bitten her earlier in the Shelter’s kitchen, but hard hardly been able to drink at all. The night was quiet and she could hear one of the inhabitants come in and stumble into his assigned room.
She wondered why Ethan stopped sharing. Pressing against him, she remembered the book. The things it said. Did he wish her to frenzy? To be a slave-like being? Maybe that was why he stopped. She never felt the urge to be either. While Ethan continued to drink slightly of her, and to stay near and close, she missed the sharing. She missed being better. She could still see in the darkness, but knew that ability would fade soon. It was less tonight than before. Soon, she would be ordinary again. No, soon, she would be herself again. She liked being better and she loved the closeness that sharing with him yielded but, once she was normal again, she hoped he would not share with her again. The feeling of her growing weaker and becoming less than what she could be made her feel more distant from him. The process of fading was unbearable.
Ethan had Brit seek out a selection of books. He paged through several before selecting one that seemed very old. Handing it to her, he asked that she read it when she woke before him. She took the book, excitedly at first. Quick inspection revealed her greatest fear: There were no pictures anywhere to be found. Additionally, the small print faded with time caused her to dread reading it. Try as she may, Brit could never understand why someone would make a book without many pictures or how others could read them. “Begin at page 180,” Ethan had said.
As her husband lay resting, Brit dutifully opened the book and stared at the page. She mouthed the words silently before reading them out loud twice: Once to simply say the words and the second time to attempt to comprehend them. Reading was hard enough on its own. Without the pictures, it was nearly impossible for her. She picked up a sketchbook and made sketches of paragraphs and then studied them as she tried to understand.
The first picture drawn was of a girl who was on a subway. A yellow-eyed, classic-looking vampire was pouring blood from a partially severed tongue in to her mouth. Written beside the flowing blood were the words “molasses-like” and “bitter.” Brit made big red X’s over a word and picture. A second picture showed a beautiful embraced Brit with her husband. Next to the picture were the words “molasses-like” and “metallic.” An arrow led from this picture to the next one.
The third picture showed Brit skipping rope. The rope cannot be seen and she is jumping much higher than one would normally. Beneath the picture, Brit wrote “ageless, stronger, better.” Like spokes of a wheel, Brit drew more pictures and wrote other short annotations. She had red question mark next to ‘ageless’ and large X’s over the words ‘slave, domitor, and blood bond.’ The words had no meaning to her. She traced them with her finger in hopes of gleaning understanding. Never before had she felt so slow. It was frustrating. She wrote another word from the book: Ghoul.
If not for the fact Ethan had asked her to read it, she would have stopped. The book was so hard for her to read. Each sentence had to be read over and over again and, even after drawing pictures to try to explain it, it did not paint a pretty image. “All it takes to push you over the edge is a single drop of blood.” She wrote it on her sketchbook and stared at it. She read more, “You hunger, you thirst, you bleed. You are not quite human anymore. You can frenzy at any moment.” Brit processed slowly and her eyes widened at the meaning. Using her necklace, she punctured her wrist and watched the bright crimson pool while she held her breath. The dark blood looked pretty on her skin and slowly oozed down her wrist. Involuntary reactions caused her to take a huge gasp of air as she waited for her frenzy to start while damming the blood drip with a finger. Her wound started to slowly close as she rubbed the blood drop on Ethan’s mouth. As it was absorbed, she figured she may frenzy later and wrote, “I’m going to frenzy soon” on the edge of her paper to warn him.
Brit poked herself repeatedly with her fingertip and wrote, “I feel human, I guess.” She shrugged and read more. Blinking, she realized that it meant that a vampire’s blood would cause her to frenzy. With a slight puff to her cheeks, she looked at Ethan so peacefully resting and picked up his hand. Using her necklace she poked his finger and waited. A small drop of blood appeared. She waited for her frenzy to begin while tapping her feet together. His finger healed rapidly and she pursed her lips. His blood reabsorbed into his body. With a soft sigh, she flipped the page hoping that she did not frenzy when someone was there to play or talk with them. She underlined her warning to him about the inevitable frenzy.
Turning the pages, she read a paragraph about a person saying how horrible the addiction was. Another flip of the page was a testimonial of another who had been abandoned by a kindred and could not leave his home. The book yielded page after page of unhappiness, desperation, and misery all due to vampires. Brit closed the book with a hard thud and stared at Ethan. Why would he ask her to read something so upsetting? The title was Ghouls: The Fatal Addiction.
Picking up her sketchpad, she drew a picture of Ethan drinking from her. The night seemed magical in that the twinkling stars, which were so bright and shimmering, caused the sky to be as bright as daytime after she used her special ink. Images moved on the page showing Ethan opening his wrist for her to drink. Brit smiled as the image looped the intimate scene allowing her to watch it. “I love sharing. It makes me better…but…I love sharing…because I love you,” she whispered. She set aside the book and watched him resting just as she had when he was in torpor. Her fingers touched him lightly as she thought of that time when he first was hers alone, but not yet a beloved or her husband. With a smile, she compared their rings feeling warm over the changes a year had brought. He was still hers alone and now she was his.
Brit picked up the sketchpad again to look over what she had drawn and written. She got her red crayon and made X’s over the words ‘slave, domitor, and blood bond.” Beneath the X’ed words, she wrote ‘wife, husband, and love.’ Under the word ‘ghoul’ she wrote, ‘beloveds.’ She set the sketchpad up so Ethan would see it when he woke. Rolling to lie half on him, she said, “Books without pictures are terrible, Ethan.” She kissed his lips before laying her head on his chest and tracing his lips with her finger. Perhaps she would sleep more, she thought. As she felt herself start to fall asleep, she raised her head again to look at him. “Don’t be mad when I frenzy. The book says it is not my fault.” Nodding, she adjusts the position of the sketchbook and snuggles up for an afternoon nap.((Picture by Gweneth Lange))
Brit looked out of the second floor window. It had stopped raining. Peering over the railing, she noted that the water had still submerged the first floor. Returning to her pillow, she laid across it and took a deep breath. Brit was breathing easier. Even though she continued to cough and sneeze a bit, her fever was gone. Omega had suggested that she rest, and Ethan had not been able to travel to the library to get her. Coloring had been suggested but Brit did not feel up to the strain of drawing and, therefore, she did something she never had done before: She looked at the pictures she had drawn before.
