Disclaimer: Don't own Vampire Knight, belongs to Matsuri Hino.


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He couldn't really say that he had looked forward to meeting her (or anyone else for that matter).

Not that he hated her specifically, but he really didn't want to be around anyone after...it happened. After all, he was just a kid.

The falling snow surrounded them, but wasn't blown into their faces. The coat wrapped around him did nothing to ward off the chilling emptiness he felt. His throat itched, like he had screamed till it felt raw from the outside. Even though he hadn't uttered a sound after it happened.

"Um...so let's run a bath for you." She looked at him, noticing that it didn't seem like he was paying attention.

--

He felt nothing when they found him lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Nothing when he trudged through the unmerciful snow towards his new hom—house.

Nothing when she gazed at him with warm, observant eyes. Even when she cleaned away the filthy blood with gentle hands. Dirtying her hands with his (filthy) blood. Yes, he was sure it was nothing.

And the nothing he felt grew into something else, but he was too preoccupied with his hatred towards vampires to realize otherwise.

--

The girl looked in astonishment and wariness at the burning hostility in his eyes. As if he didn't want her to touch him.

"Can I touch you?" She received no response.

--

"I'll go make some hot chocolate. Wait here." With that, she pushed him down onto a couch in front of a fireplace and wrapped a fresh blanket around him before running off.

It was getting hotter. The fireplace should have warmed up the room, but the flames were too large and they consumed the air in its entirety.

He needed to get away.

Pushing off of the couch, he made his way towards the window, but he had forgotten how drained he actually was before nearly falling onto the ground. He settled up against the wall before the itching came again. He reached up with his fingers and clawed lightly at his throat. At the blood that wasn't really there. But it was there, dripping and red and warm. So disgustingly warm.

He could still hear the sucking sound that woman had made when she drank from his neck.

--

The blood had grown cold and flaky. And his throat itched from the teethmarks she had made. He could feel the teethmarks. Why couldn't that girl see them? Didn't she see the blood?

There was so much of it...too much of it...

The crusted blood made his throat itchier...

So he scratched.

And scratched.

But it wouldn't go away. The itching.

So he scratched harder. Until it drew blood, and it felt a little better, but he wouldn't settle for a little. The smell was sickening. He faintly heard a small gasp, and the clutter of a tray hitting the ground along with two chipped mugs and hot steaming chocolate that spilled across the floorboards and seeped into the cracks of the floor that hid his disgust from it all.

--

"Stop it!" His hand was suddenly engulfed in warmth, and he turned surprised eyes to her frightened questioning ones.

Are you scared of me?

"Why? Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"It itches where that woman bit me." And the itching wouldn't stop. He had a feeling that it never would.

--

"It's okay now, I'm here." She cradled her hand in his as if it weren't covered in blood.

The warmth wasn't suffocating. The smell of blood and spilled chocolate and pressed flowers filled his senses. Sitting there, he noticed that the smell of flowers was stronger than the other two.

Yes, she smelled like pressed flowers. The good smelling ones.

Her hand was still cradled in his as they left the room to dress his self-inflicted wounds and run a second bath.

He looked at both their hands without hostility.


A/N: I don't really know if the events are right, but I'm not really bothered about the details. I'm SO glad that they finally have effing character categories. I was tired of having to see the yaoi and Kaname/Yuki fics. ;P

Writer's block sucks.