I have decided to post a little Flash Fiction piece. Ugh my stomach hurts... I love writing FF but I really hate sharing it for fear of - Idk - being laughed at. I know... insecurities... but I have to remember courage.
So here it is...
Time For a Change
She felt her eyes growing wild with fear, her pulse vaulting through her body. Her knees and legs growing weaker by the second and yet, he stood there at the top of the lane waiting on her. Sonofabitch.
“I – I can’t do this anymore, York.” Ripping out her ear buds she pushes past him.
He follows but not too closely. “You say this every day. I’ve told you a million times you don’t have to do this to yourself, Lara.”
Her eyes no wider than slits, she glances over her shoulder at him as she plods in to the house.
“Don’t look at me like that. We’ve been doing this same dance for ten years now. All you have to do is let me turn you and you no longer need to run laps around the damn block to keep yourself in shape. You are going to run yourself into the grave before I have the chance to spend eternity with you.” His fingers grip her arm, flinging her around so her lips barely brush his own. “Don’t you want to be with me forever?” It is hardly a whisper.
Lara’s knees finally give in. York cradles her lower back in the contours of his arms. Her feet dangles a few inches off the ground. Their eyes, level.
“You know I’m not ready to change. I’m only twenty-three. What will my parents say when I stop aging?” Lara blinks her eyes trying to clear them from their York-induced-pheromone-haze.
“My love, you know well enough that humans see us only as we wish them to see. So stop trying to pull that card.” York nuzzles his face in her neck.
God, Lara loved that. Shivers travel the length of her body, starting where his tongue met her collarbone. “I – I know.” Dizziness fills her head. “Just like when we met, you glamoured yourself to appear to be fifteen when you are twenty-five.”
He laughs near her ear causing her body to stir more. “Technically I’m a few centuries old,” he purrs.
He adores it when her pulse pumps harder underneath his lips. He knows what he has to do. She won’t like it much but he is willing to sacrifice a little to gain a lot. So what if she gets pissed. He’s tired of waiting. Even if she leaves him she can’t go far, he will be her maker which will bind them endlessly.
“Until I’m ready, I’m gonna run, and diet, so I can keep my girlish figure for when I am prepared. I’ve never seen a fat vampyre. Have you?”
“Do you like your body now then?” His tongue lightly tracing the vein along her neck.
“Yes,” she breaths. “York, you’re squeezing me.”
And he does. His arms embarrass his lover, and now his prey. After all these years he has hit his breaking point. In the next few minutes she will no longer be his human courtesan, but his immortal consort.
Have a great Valentine's Day!