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Enjoy. If anyone wants to use (as if!), please email me. Please r&r.BR
-T
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Love is cold, you know. Some would have you believe it is hot, filled with fiery passions, and burning hearts. My Sire was like that. He flickered like the fire I see in his head, in and out, hotter then Hell, then cold - cold, and boring. He was always reaching higher and higher, always trying to reach the sky. She was the sky - always high, unreachable. Always right. She thought she knew about love, but in all her adventures, all her trysts, she never learned the truth.
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I know the truth.
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It's as clear as she was, dancing around his head. I loved him, I still do. I just can't help him now. He'll see, he'll come around, he'll leave the heat for my me. He will.
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I saw him that night, and I knew he could be hot, that he could burn with a passion that reached far deeper then Angel's. I didn't know I needed the cold, that blood is better cool then warm. I saw his visions, and I let them come true. I saw his need for romance; I gave him romance. It was hard, at first. I never knew romance before - Daddy and Grand-Mummy had always saved that for themselves. I knew pain, yes, and lust, but all the romancing I knew I drew from my boy's head.
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We were wild, those first years. Wild, crazy with the love for each other that ran to our bones. He killed a Slayer for me, and we celebrated. The Slayer's blood ran hot through our veins, something we never shared with another. That was our feeling, our glorious memory.
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Later we visited snowy mountains, searching in vain for another Slayer. How we searched for a Slayer in those years, convinced her blood was the secret to our happiness. We learned the truth up there, in the snow and ice.
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We are not humans, and that is the secret to our happiness. We must never let their views, their prejudices, even their phrases, cloud our vision. Daddy did, and Grand-Mummy. They never realized that our blood is cold, and so must our love be.
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That's all I can think about, sitting here in this dark, dank bar, watching the newly-made vampires drink their fill in one gulp, or grab others and rip off their clothing, hungry for fiery passion. I rip out the heart of a cowering human, and set it a-fire. This is the only real burning heart there is, I tell them, but they will have to find out for themselves, like we did. And as I reach for another human, the only thing I hear is you whispering your love to me, and the only thing I can feel are your cold, loving hands along my back.