A/N: R for vampirism. Enjoy.

I am sitting in this little café, sipping gingerly at my searing-hot coffee. I let my eyes drift around my surroundings. Their gaze stops its exploration as it fastens itself upon a young man of astonishing beauty. His eyes are black, black as the hair which shimmers around his pale, narrow face, enhancing the darkness of his eyes even more. He straightens his posture, and a part of his long dark hair slips from behind a shell-like ear onto one slender shoulder, caressing his neck. His lips part slightly, revealing more of their fresh rosiness. Such extraordinary beauty! Unusual beauty, very much so; he does not seem to be from this world. Everything about him seems superhuman. Such a white countenance! And what a sad expression playing upon those exquisite features! Whence such sorrow? Suddenly he shifts, and his soulful stare falls upon me. I find myself caught and enthralled by those black eyes and that flawless face. I quickly avert my eyes from his. I pay for my coffee and slip away from my seat. Without looking back, I stroll away into a dark alley. It is deserted and narrow, and I feel somewhat apprehensive. Utter silence encloses me as I walk more and more swiftly through the night. Suddenly I feel a slight breeze blow past my face, and there he is, standing in front of me. Beautiful, sorrowful, dangerous. Black hair tucked behind the nape of his ivory neck, his sleek body moving gracefully and catlike beneath his faded beige jeans and leather jacket. An incredibly sensual smile twists his shapely mouth as his long, white, tapering fingers reach out for my shoulders. I am spellbound; I am drawn into a cold embrace; his arms slip around my neck, and then one hand slides down to my waist. His black eyes draw me to him with a powerful magnetism. His lips part, as if he is about to impart a secret to me. I feel myself go limp in his gentle and yet strong grasp. My seducer leans forward, a few strands of velvety hair slipping forward and stroking my cheek. There is a faint smell of earth, rain and dust about him. His mouth nearly touches mine but does not. It slides down to my throat. Shivers run down my back and I moan in ecstatic pleasure. Suddenly I feel it-a painful, small sting. His nocturnal eyes fixate mine. He suckles gently at the wound his fangs have bored into my skin. A swirling sound fills my ears. My eyelids grow heavy; the whole of my body is becoming a dead weight. He supports me tenderly as he drinks from me. Then he pauses.

"Mon cher ami *," he whispers without even moving those rose-petal lips. The sharp little canine teeth flash from behind them as he smiles after pronouncing those words.

"Dormez, mon beau garçon **," he says as he sinks his fangs into my neck again.


* My dear friend

** Sleep, my beautiful boy