Eric and His Great Pumpkin One-shot Contest

Title: Paramnesia

Your Pen name: animeluvr8

Characters: Sookie/Eric, mentions of Tara, Bill, Amelia and Tray

Word Count: 3300

Disclaimer: I do not own Southern Vampire Mysteries or True Blood. I'm just a silly girl that loves to play around with other's work.

Thanks: Thank you to Poison Ivy of MNI for beta'ing. ^_^

I did not believe in love at first sight. My Gran had taught me that what others called “love at first sight” was nothing more than infatuation and desire. You could not love someone without knowing them, she told me. To love was a choice to accept and cherish every aspect of that person, even the ones you hated the most. I had always believed this, as I did most of the caveats from my beloved Gran.

“Gah!”

Not my most dignified response but how else is a girl supposed to respond when someone is cutting off her air supply.

“Sorry Miss.” I heard my handmaid tell me as she loosened the strings on the corset a bit.

I was grateful for the air that was now allowed to enter my lungs. Call me silly, but I like breathing. I've heard it's good for your health even. Though my mother doesn't seem to think so very much, if she really thinks this is how I'm supposed to be dressed.

I didn't waste the effort thanking Tara Mae for her concern, my mother wouldn't have approved. If this were any other day, Tara and I would be laughing at the absurdity of this whole night. With mother around though, I wasn't allowed to do any such thing. It isn't proper for the plantation owner's daughter to be friends with her handmaid. This is the Deep South after all, we're not like those Yankees in the North.

“Sookie stop fidgeting. If the corset isn't set right, the dress won't fit properly.”

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her. She was behind me, so she couldn't have seen, but I was trying to be on my best behaviour tonight. “Yes Mother.”

When the corset was adjusted to a tightness my mother approved of, but still allowed me to breathe just a bit, Tara Mae moved over to my closest to get my gown. I kept my eyes away from my mother's as she walking in front of me as if to inspect a doll. I didn't need to be a mind-reader to know she was wishing I was about ten or fifteen pounds lighter. It isn't as if I'm fat, but I'm not a bone-thin girl like my mother would prefer. I was a full-bodied woman and quite proud of that to be honest. I quite like my curves.

My mother tisked and shook her head as she moved away from me. Way to make your daughter feel loved mother. Just as I knew she disapproved of my size, I knew she liked my attitude less. My Gran (rest her soul) always said I was born a free spirit, that life as the daughter of Corbett and Michelle Stackhouse was not for me.

When Tare Mae was in front of me again, I allowed my face to morph into a look of barely held contempt. Not at her of course, but at this whole going on. Tonight was not looking like it would be a very good one. I could tell my friend wanted to tell me something, give me a few words of encouragement for this evening, but she didn't dare. Mother was still in the room.

Instead she gently held out the dress for me to step into, which I did much to my chagrin. It felt like I was being forced into something I'm not. At least most days I am around the house where I can pretend that I am free to be me. Pretend that I'm not being shaped and molded like some sort of dried out reluctant clay. This dress, no, this night was doing a good job of ripping even that away from me.

As Tara Mae tied up the black strings in the back, I looked down at myself. I knew I had to look nice right now. The dress was a deep and vibrant red that set off the flush of my tanned skin, it poofed out at the bottom, with layers of red fabric in a decorative and tasteful pleated style. The designs on the front were accent with black threading and the tightness of the corset and dress pushed up my ample cleavage. The only thing my mother truly approved of on me.

I knew that this dress had been designed to make me desirable for the evening. As if my mother thought that if I looked pretty enough a man would finally chose to marry me. To her I was nearly an old spinster. Twenty-five was far too old for a respectable girl to still be unmarried, she said.

When I finally looked up again, my mother's face was in front of mine. She seemed to be studying me much as she had before, though this time there was a slightly more approving look in her eye. “You look lovely Susannah. Don't you think so Tara Mae?” She asked the girl without even looking at her.

“Yes'am.” My friend handed me the final piece of my outfit for the evening: my mask. Great, just what I needed. Something else to hide a part of me.

“Thank you.” I said simply, looking the dark skinned girl in the eye. My words were short, easily to interpret as a thank you for the help or simply courtesy, though of course what I wanted was to show Tara Mae how grateful I was. She risked giving me a smile in return and I knew I was so lucky to have a friend like her. The next time the kitchen slave Lafayette made one of his pies, I'd have to sneak her a piece since she loves it so much.

My mother though, didn't notice this exchange, she simply kept eyeing me like I was a specimen. “I hear that William Compton boy will be at the masquerade. Won't it be nice to see him again?”

It was all I could do to keep from rolling my eyes or walking out the room. The woman still held delusions that it would be William that would finally marry me away from here and make me respectable. I would refuse any such thing to the best of my abilities. There was no place for William Compton in my life anymore. If I had to be possessed as marriage dictated, it would not be by him at the very least. What sort of respect was there in marrying a man that slept around with the town whore?

It helped that this lesson on love made sense. Having fallen in and out of love before in a slow and peaceful way, I knew what she meant. I had chosen to love William Compton. Then, when I found he was not the man I thought he was, I had chosen to no long allow him into my heart. Experience was nearly as excellent a teacher as my Gran, so I never questioned that love at first sight was an impossibility.

“Yes, Mother.” Was all I manged to squeak out in a polite tone. I didn't trust myself to say anything else.

Another of the house slaves entered the room then, announcing quietly that my ride for the evening was here. I would be accompanied tonight by my only other friend in the world, Amelia Broadway. My Gran had called me a free spirit, but she referred to Amelia as a wild spirit. Perhaps that's why we got along so well.

My mother gave me a final once over before nodding her head. I began to make my way out of my room before she could speak again. I hurried through my house to the front door, doing my best to avoid my father and brother along the way. I did not have the patience left to deal with them if I was going to make it through this night.

When I got to the door, a real smile made it's way onto my face. Amelia had her head stuck out of the stagecoach, smiling at me and waving me on. I heard my mother tisk unapprovingly behind me, but this was my favorite thing about Amelia. She was a happy, vibrant person, a breath of fresh air when most others put way too much effort into being perfect. With Amelia, what you see is what you get.

I took a few quick steps to the coach, turning to wave at my mother before climbing in. I settled down next to Amelia, a goofy smile on my face as I did so. “Hello Amelia, your dress is beautiful.”

“Why thank you Sookie, you look gorgeous.” Amelia said as she did a mock curtsy in her seat. Amelia is one of three people that have ever called me Sookie. Everyone else calls me by my given name Susannah, but Gran, Amelia and Tara Mae have always been special enough to be different. As cliché as it sounds, Sookie was always the real me, while Susannah was who I needed to be.

Truthfully though, it felt nice to be out of my house, even if I was being forced to go to this ridiculous Halloween masquerade ball. Even better, none of my family would be in attendance. When my father fell ill and my brother refused, Amelia's husband Tray had offered to be my chaperon for the evening, as well as hers. I was sure Amelia had talked him into it, since it wouldn't have been his idea, but I was grateful none the less. “Hello Tray. You look very handsome this evening.”

Tray smiled at me nicely and nodded towards my own dress. “And you look lovely. Both you ladies do. I'll have my hands full taking care of both of you tonight.”

I had the good nature to blush at the compliment while Amelia just reached across the stagecoach to swat playfully at his arm. It was beautiful see them so in love. They were quite lucky to be so happy and I couldn't help but envy them a bit.

The rest of the ride was taken in a companionable silence, none of us really having anything to say. It was a nice enough evening out that I just looked out the little window next to me and watched the scenery go by. Places I had seem over and over since my birth, but always loved to watch fly past when traveling.

Soon we arrived in town and stopped outside of the Bellefleur Manner. The Bellefleurs were the richest family in at least there Parishes and their house was nothing if not gorgeous. I came from a well to do and prominent family, but somehow being here always made me feel like I'm not good enough. We entered soon enough though, donning our masks as instructed before entering the main hall.

The room was meticulously decorated, as could be expected from the Bellefleur patron. Music swept over the room from a band that played in the far corner, while couples danced in the middle of the room. There was a bar and refreshments opposite the band and lines and circles of people spotting the outer areas of the room. Even through the masks there was a general feel of aristocracy and schmooze was being passed back and forth between guests. I hated it already.

I became very bored very quickly. Amelia tried to stick with me and keep me company, but the music was very enticing for her and she and Tray soon made their way onto the floor. My eyes watched them and the other couples twirl around a bit before they began to waver again. Here I was, leaning against the wall all alone while others talked and danced freely. Perhaps my mother is right and I would end up some lonely old spinster. Alone and unloved.

Sighing, I let my eyes do another sweep of the room before they abruptly stopped. They had been pulled into an ocean of crystal blue that I could not, would not, ever be able to swim out of.

I never questioned that lesson until this moment. Because what if you could know someone at first sight?

The man across the room was what I could only assume an archangel looked like. He was tall, towering over the others standing near him. Several men were standing before him, engaging him in conversation of some sort. Even from this distance, I could see that he was the center of that group, the alpha and one that everyone was speaking to, trying to gain his attention.

Though he was talking, I could see his full lips moving from over here, he did not break eye contact with me. I felt as if I was being pulled into something deep and heavy, but I felt oddly freed by the weight. Comforted even as I felt like I was quickly becoming addicted.

My eyes drank all they could of him. He had a strong jaw, powerful and commanding, even if his skin was pale as I was tan. His hair was nearly the same shade as my own, and it looked like it was long as well, though I could not tell how long exactly. I wanted to know though. Dear, sweet goodness I wanted to know.

It felt as if we were coming closer together, like we had perhaps never been apart to begin with. What I was feeling made no sense, not in any logical or rational meaning of the way. Deeper though, it made more sense than anything in my life ever had. It was more real than the room I was in or the dress I was in. I knew even in my own head that I sounded crazy, but that did not bother me nearly as much as it should.

Somehow, the eyes were closer, no more than a foot in front of me and they washed over me as readily as I drank them in. He spoke to me then, diverting my attention to his lips as they moved. They were full and as pale pink as the rest of him. I could imagine feeling whispers of kisses along my neck just looking at them as the sweet depth of his voice engulfed me.

I didn't dare speak my answer, worried I'd somehow damage the perfection of what was before me. His hand was outstretched towards me and I placed my own within it, shivering at the sensation of actually touching him. It was better than I had thought it would be, yet reminiscent of something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

When he began to twirl me around the dance floor, I felt like every fairy tale cliché you could think up. Fairy princess, damsel in distress, mistreated daughter, it didn't matter which you chose. They all ended the same way, with a man and a woman on their way to happily ever after. In those eyes, I saw forever and I happily began to give myself to it.

Technically I did not know anything about him. I had never seen him before that tonight, who knew if I ever would again. But looking into the depth of his blue eyes, I felt like I had lived a thousand years worth of lifetimes and love with him.

When he began to lead me to the garden, I followed along willingly and without care. The station in society I was supposed to be upholding fell from my mind like a monkey off my back. I knew that I could trust this man, this awakening be stirred within me. Or perhaps I could say reawakening. With just a look and a twirl around the room I felt that I had been set free of all the petty drama and expectations that came with my life as a rich plantation owner's daughter.

The feel of his hand in mine made the skin there feel alive with light and warmth, sensations jumping excitedly from nerve ending to nerve ending. The tingle from the feel made it's way up my arm and through my body, to every inch of my skin and into the marrow of my very bones. This man was now a part of me, he was me, the home and comfort that I had longed to experience.

I did not startle when he stopped, nor did I care that we were now standing under a tree in the darkest and most secluded part of the Bellefleur land. He pulled my hand, tugging him close to his body, where I landed just a hair's breath away from touching him.

The breath I inhaled by reflex barely made it the tip of my lungs before he was calling it back out again. His tongue singing a sweet lullaby to it as he explored my mouth. I had been kissed before when William was courting me, but the things this man did with his mouth was nothing compared to that of Compton. The way he moved his mouth against my own made my knees go weak in need and exhaustion. I felt nearly as if he were stealing my very soul into his being, drinking me in, as he filled me with something else entirely. Something right in every way.

His large hand on my back pulled me the rest of the way to him, even as it kept me fully standing in my blissful state. I could feel every muscle of his chest press against mine and my hands could not resist running up and down him. There was no disappointment in what I found. Even through the layers of his tuxedo, I could feel hard muscle, smooth plains and soft skin that I suddenly longed to see.

I moaned sadly when he broke his mouth away from mine, though I should have been happy for the chance go breathe. Looking in his eyes I could tell he was laughing at me, enjoying my need for him. He appeased me by attaching himself to my neck, kissing and sucking all along my sensitive skin there. As he kissed, my hand found it's way into his jacket, where I started to rub and grope even firmer.

I had no idea where my boldness or my comfort with his body was coming from, but I did not want to get off of this ride. I pinched at his nipple and I felt the breath of his hiss on my collarbone. He pulled me tighter to him, kissing be firmer and lower till he reached the tips of my cleavage. My chest was shaking from the combination of my panting and anticipation.

The call to look at him, to fall into his eyes again came upon me and I opened my eyes to see that he was also looking at me. We were embarking on a journey here, two strangers that knew each other better than we knew ourselves. I did not question, because to do so would be to question the very nature of existence. For between us existed something so profound it transcended words. We touched it in our first glance and in each touch we got closer and closer to understanding it, wrapping ourselves in it's ease and comfort. This was truly happening and the feel of it could not be wrong

I had no Elderly lesson or life experience to fall upon with this one, only what I was feeling in this very moment. Was it truly possible to know someone in just a one look? If so it begged the question that if you could know someone intimately, profoundly in just one glance, could you not choose to love them just as quickly?