Hello, all. This is my first Vampire Knight fic, so I'll need feedback on how I did, please. In particular I'm kind of iffy about the title for this one, but even an, 'I like it, good work,' or a 'I didn't like it all that much,' is acceptable. Please be warned, if you flame, and give no good reason why, I will extend it into a lengthy debate, so be sure you have lots of energy. Thank you very much!

Stolen Tastes

Her blood is heated from his very proximity. He grows warm just looking at her. B-bmp, b-bmp. Her heart thumps louder as he comes closer. His thundering pulse, not all to do with the stress of thirst, causes colour to rise to his face. She can feel his warm self, the subject of many a daydream while on patrol, right there. He puts his arms around her, keeping her still. She leans into the warm embrace, mentally preparing for what comes next. Leans down, aiming for the warm pulse point, and buries his face in her neck. Her breath stutters as his tongue flicks out to touch her skin. He breathes in deep gasps, savoring the scent; skin, blood, essence. She breathes in sharply at the first pinch of fangs puncturing soft skin. He laps up the red fluid quickly, trying to keep ahead of the flow, shivering at the taste, the sensation, the doubled awareness that comes with it. She shudders, feeling him take in her blood, feeling him hold her tight and lick at the wound at her throat. He tries to pull back, ashamed of what he is doing, but she holds onto him, knowing it's best for him, doing what she can for her love. She accepts him, what he is, and he loves her for it. He rests his head against her chest, hearing his pulse, and hers. She strokes his hair, comforting him, telling him it's OK, and that he's no monster. The stand, she touches his cheek, reassuring him once more. She cleans off his face in the sink, checking in the mirror, using cold water to calm himself down. She rinses off the ends of her hair, removing blood from the strands that lay on her neck, and daubs the drips he missed from her pale throat. He steps over, bandage in hand, and gently affixes it to the wounds on her throat. They leave separately, so as not to arouse suspicion, and go off on their own, remembering stolen minutes, daydreaming of when such closeness might be gotten honestly.

348 words.

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