In His Eyes

I’ve seemed to lose myself;

waiting to stay forever.

Stipulation: The characters in this story are fictional—if using these characters, please properly credit them to me, and the original story they appeared in. Also, please take care of them—they are very important.

One-Shot

I let my hair down — he says he likes it down. That way, I have nothing hidden from him — not that I would think, let alone try that. He can see through me. Always has been able to. At first, I resented it, and hid from his view. Now, I revel in it, his touch, the gentle caress of his words. It warms me.

The warmth of the shower fills the room, fills me. A hot, stabbing need. It is the ending feeling of my loneliness — I am never empty, yet. I scrub at my skin, washing my body so that I can be pure for him. Pure as for once, I gather the strength to kiss the impossible beauty that is him. To taste what sadness he bares — to even think that I, myself, can alleviate the pain that he carries like a burden — which he disregards, instead, to make sure that he heals my own. And to this, he serves to hurt me more, another wound on my guilty heart.

The smells of the soap — is refreshing, healing, as comforting as my thoughts of him. His cold body a sharp contrast to mine, and yet it feels right. Sometimes too right. Held in his arms, we sink to my bed without further touches — and sometimes I resent both of us for it. The cloth brushes my legs, my breasts, my arms, and I imagine it is his scent and touch cloaking me…to fill me until I suffocate in such intensity.

I get out of the shower, and dry myself. The mirror is fogged over. My hand clears the mist — like a clear stab. I can see myself…my face. I hate how I look. You’re beautiful…The thought comes, and I smile in spite of myself. I pick up a brush and get the knots out of my wet hair before leaving the bathroom.

And he stands there — staring at me. I can feel myself grow wet, as I clutch the towel tighter to me. His face is cool and composed, as it always is — his feelings unguarded around me. His gaze stays unwavering to mine, and I know he was fighting not to look. He gives in, and in a short measuring look, he takes in my whole body. Unconsciously, I grip the towel tighter to me. Slithering into my mind, he is exposed, and I like what I see. Not the careful ghost he makes himself to be. Just…him. And in the moment, it’s he and me — and I’m excited and so scared at the same time.

His name, like a foreign, sweet whisper on my lips… “Alessandro…” It rolled off the tip of my tongue, as I took him in. I hate how it seems like I can never say his name right, to capture all the beauty that is — him — in his name. Beautifully angled face, high, sculpted cheekbones, straight-thin nose, dark, burning eyes, soft curls framing his face — it gives him a wild…dark, pliable look. I yearn to run my fingers through his hair, to see how soft they were, how soft his flawless naked skin would be against mine.

Alessandro greets me with a small smile, his perfect, full lips curving into a smile. “Once again, it is night, beloved, and I have returned.”

I tilt my head. “So you have.” I manage to say it without a hitch in my throat. I was ecstatic about the fact that though he could have many women — had — that he chose to return to me every night. And stay…cutting so close to dawn. My thoughts came back to me…women. Was he ever in love with one of them — more? Did he ever do the same thing to them as to me? And then a thought clutched at my heart. After me…he’d have many more women to love, and hold, and touch, and speak to…perhaps some of his own vampiric race?

I frown, and avert my eyes from his brown ones. “Beloved, what’s wrong?” He asks gently, a small smile at the corners of his lush mouth.

I shake my head, looking at the floor in front of him. “Nothing, don’t worry.” I look up at him quickly to reassure him, but he just frowns, and I knew he would’ve been. I didn’t like to see him frown. “Please, don’t worry.” I insist, eyes dispassionately staring at the oak flooring.

He moves to me before I could react. His eyes staring into mine, and he catches me by the arm, moving me until I pressed softly against him. I realize my error as I pull back…the towel got caught on my arm where he caught me, and it went pooling onto the floor below me.

Both one of us didn’t dare breathe for fear of breaking the silence and realizing what happened. I stare at his face, a crimson blush rising on my skin, and my eyes water. I was ready to cry — he seems as embarrassed as I am, and I could’ve sworn he blushed as well. He hesitates a moment, before turning away, but I catch him.

“Wait, Alessandro…”

He keeps his back turned to me. “What?” It was like he snaps — he snaps at me.

“Don’t do this.”

He whips around to face me, his eyes red and intense as he grips my shoulders tightly in his hands. “Do what? Control myself around you? I haven’t fed yet —”

I flinch at his tone. “I am sorry,” I say in a quiet voice. I am afraid, that he would leave me, and never return…Maybe I am stupid and fooling myself, thinking he did love me, and only me, but I couldn’t help it. It is a possessive need that rises in me to know that though he feeds on women, his lips sensuously touching their necks, holding them in his arms… it was really me he wants. It was me he really wanted to taste, and touch in that way.

“Don’t leave me.”

His eyes soften. “ I do not want to hurt you.”

I search his eyes, before pressing myself closer to him. “I want…after all this time, I want you to feed from me and…take your…pleasure —” Cheeks crimson, I look to the floor. I didn’t want to see what he thought of me for asking that. “I want to make love to you. Besides, I don’t think you could hurt me — not if you really didn’t want to.” I whisper the last part, knowing full well he could hear me.

There is a long silence, and I am shaking so violently. I can imagine his repulsion, and bend down to grab the towel that fell, but he stops me. “No,” he mumbles, pressing me close to him, taking the arm he held and looped it over his shoulder. “Do not hide yourself — do not think that you are not beautiful and perfect. You are. You are.”

He rests his hands on me, softly. As if I was delicate. One on the back of my head, the other carefully on my waist. He is smelling my hair. “But I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, let me get dressed.” I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip. Maybe he didn’t want me to see his repulsion?

“No,” it was a half growl, “do not. Let me savor the warmth of your body. It has been so long since I have felt such whole, flawless skin against any part of me. It is wonderful.”

“Alessandro, don’t…don’t flatter me. Not on my account. I don’t want this – just stop. ”

“Darling, I speak only the truth.”

Angrily, I push away and start to the room. I can feel Alessandro’s dark, heavy gaze on my back. Would he follow me? At the moment, I don’t care. My feet are moving me to my room, my eyes are trying not to mist over with tears, and I feel like I’m failing miserably — horribly. I barely feel it when he touches my arm, and still I yank myself from him, sliding under the sheets, and give him my back.

“Beloved, why so cold now?” His voice is a purr — dark and thick. Thick and rich enough to taste, as would be his skin, I’m sure. “You offer me your body and your blood — may even your heart, and now, so cold when I speak the truth?”

“You are lying, Alessandro. I can see it.”

“What, in my eyes? What could there possibly be there, except adoration, and complete fascination? Awe of such beauty? And naivety? It has been many years since anyone claimed to be able to see anything in me — try, Beloved. There has not been one to see behind the mask I wear…and yet, you can? Truly, can you see the pain that lies behind here?”

I clutch the sheets tighter to me. A form of protection against his words. My only protection, because my heart wants to feel the empty echo of his. I want to press against him, and feel ever curve and contour to be filled with him. Feel the cold warmth in him. But hurt and disbelief gets in the way — and stupidity results. “Go away, Alessandro. Leave me alone.”

Silence. Has he left? Did he really believe me? I wait; can count silently to five hundred in my head before lowering the covers so I can peek around. He is still here, now in the corner. “Do you really expect me to believe that? Beloved, if you truly wish for me to go, then I shall, and I shall not return as who you want.”

“Then whom will you return as?”

He takes a moment to pause and think. “I will return as my true self — if it is possible for me to return. If you chose for me to.” His eyes meet mine. “I do not understand you, Beloved…you doubt my word for not reason, you take offense to my declarations of your beauty and intelligence. In my time, it would gain you a sonnet, some other written or performed dedication of your perfection. Such would win the hand of a fair maiden.”

I listen, trying to swallow the large lump in my throat. “Where you ever married? Was there someone special that made you…take the offer of immortality?”

He gives a slow, sad smile. “There is no one who made me chose immortality, though there were innuendos to inspire me to take the offer. The repercussions were explained to me, but I was foolish enough to believe there were rewards to make up for it.”

“Thousands of plus years of history, experience, wisdom. Many…lovers over the centuries —” He interrupts me.

“Is very little reimbursement over what I’ve lost over a millennium ago. Live, love, family — call me sentimental. I yearn for the old days of petty ignorance. Now, there is purposeful ignorance — deception, among other things, in families.” He shakes his head, and his perfectly curls still frame his face. “I still live in the past, Beloved. A woman like you would have been thoroughly appreciated, rich and poor alike.”

I flush, look down, shamed. I know he tells the truth, but I can’t find myself to be as beautiful he speaks of. “Alessandro…” This is the part that I’m afraid of. Retracting my anger, I take a break. “I’m sorry. I’m scared.”

“Of what? What is there you can possibly be afraid of from me?”

“Rejection!” I scream, almost missing the fact that in the process, I threw the sheet from my body. Quickly, I grasp it back. “I’m afraid you’re going to reject me. Take of those damn rose-colored glass you have on, and notice that I’m just human. There is nothing special about me, and I’m just a waste of time! I don’t want that. I don’t want to admit that.”

He takes my words in. “Admit to what?”

I freeze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Beloved, I know you. What are you afraid to admit?”

I bite my bottom lip and he groans. Suddenly, he is above me, breath hot on my neck. I can feel his hand heavily tucked under my thigh, the other cradling the back of my head. I say nothing, too busy trying to catch my breath, keep myself from getting more aroused than I already was. But with him on me, and his lips pressed against the side of my neck, tongue slowly and leisurely darting out to caress my neck. Belatedly, I realize that a moan escapes my parted lips and he takes advantage of it.

His lips descend to mine, tongue softly battling, coaxing mine to move against his. I close my eyes; wrap my arms around his neck. I can feel the silk of his lips sliding over mine, before tearing to my neck again. Everything is a haze, my mind blowing right out of my head.

…His eyes bears into mine as he slowly undresses me…as I undress him…slowly, he brushes his thumbs over my aching nipples…takes my swollen breasts into his mouth, easing the heaviness…burying his fingers into my hot core…Oh, God, I shudder heavily against his hand, moans ripping from my throat, and he growls in appreciation.

“Alessandro,” I whisper lightly, as he positions himself before me. “I’m a virgin….”

He remains quiet before nodding. He fills me, stretching me to accommodate his large manhood. Deliciously, I pulse around him, pain fleeting as pleasure seizes my body, and he begins a leisure pace. He cradles me to him tightly, taking deep admiring smells of my hair, lips kissing my neck. The heat in me rises, curling into a tight ball, and as he quickens, I tense around him, screaming in my first orgasm.

“Oh, God, Alessandro…I’m scared to admit…” I bit the fat of his ear, both of us hissing. “I love you!”

He finds his orgasm, and as I ebb away into sleep, he smiles in the crook of my neck and whispers, “I have always loved you.”

fin.