Unwelcome Visitor by Isabelle

Rating: PG

Fandom: True Blood / Southern Vampire Series

Ship: Eric/Sookie

Quickie: Eric shows up on Sookie's doorstep a few weeks after the events of 2.09

Prompt: for bklyangel, who requested it


"Tell me the truth, is it possible you came here simply to spend time with me?"
~ Eric, Dead & Gone ~

"Flowers? How sweet."

His voice, well known in her thoughts, made her jump and turn to face him. If she were honest with herself, she'd admit she was livid with him. If she were really, really honest with herself, she would admit that she had just been thinking about him.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded, placing the vase of red roses down on the porch table.

He completely ignored her question and slithered up the steps, inspecting her humble home with his hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans.

"So this is where Sookie Stackhouse lives," he said slowly, and she bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from defending what her family had proudly passed down for generations.

"I ask again," she treaded carefully. "What are you doing here?"

"Did Bill get you the flowers?" He asked, his blue eyes zooming onto the vase, which sat forgotten.

She lifted her chin and faced him, jaw squared.

"Of course he did," he answered for her, clearly knowing way before he even considered asking. "Yet somehow I feel as if… red roses? It's a little common for a girl like you."

"Showing up uninvited around my home is not going to make me want you, Eric," she stated, unsure of her own words even as they left her mouth.

He smirked. Of course he smirked. Guys like Eric, with the leather and the cool cars and the nonchalant demeanor, always smirked. It came with the package. But he wasn't all that, was he? God, everything was murky and complex. She liked knowing the right and wrong and the good and the bad and the good-Vamp and the bad-Vamp. Her plan, her preconceptions, had gone quite well for a while, but recently a certain arrogant ass had to come and ruin it. Well, not ruin it, but certainly make her question it.

He ducked his head, coming closer to her.

"You're thinking of me," he whispered, and she swore to God in the sky that it reverberated through her skin, into her and shook her rib cage. Which explained the sudden thumping of her heart.

"I am not, and even if I am, it's not my fault – you've tricked me into this – this thing I am feeling," she snapped, insulted beyond words.

He, of course, chuckled.

"You're curious to me, Sookie Stackhouse. I wonder…" He circled her like a vulture circles its prey. Prey that was slowly dying. Slowly giving in. Or, one day, would most certainly give in. Willingly. Welcome that beautiful somewhere…

"Eric –"

"… What do you look like naked?"

And she swallowed her tongue. It was making its way down her esophagus.

"T-this is all the bond. The bond I didn't want, the bond you trick –"

"A question," he stopped her, his long pale hand held up in mock defense, his fangs elongated. "Did you drink your lover's blood before or after he deflowered you?"

She would've answered but her tongue was still in her esophagus.

"I thought so." And then he turned and walked away. Damn him. Damn him.

She liked red roses.

They weren't common.

The wind shifted around her, and she knew he was gone. She could sense it. Damn him. She quickly calculated how long Bill would be gone and swiftly made her way to her room. Her finger was about to get quite a workout.


The end.