Save My Soul
It was twelve o'clock, the sun was shinning, and Bonnie was in her bed alone just staring at the cieling, imaging that the mottled surface were stars. She hadn't had breakfast that morning and she didn't think she would have lunch, because she did not feel like eating at all. The more the sun shone through her window, the more sleep tugged at her mind. It held her to the mattrisse like a pair of strong hands – like Damon's hands. That had been the last sight of him she had had before she awoke now; he had caged her between his arms, his eyes shining darkly, with blood smeared around his mouth. It had been her blood that she tasted when he'd kissed her, and it was her blood she tasted on her lips now.
The night before had begun like the thousand others before it, just an ordinary night with nothing to hint at how it would end. She remembered vaguely how excited she had been, how she antisipated Damon's arrival later in the night, because he always came... always. He would sneak in so quietly that she rarely ever knew he was close until his arms were around her. In the beginning, his sudden appearances had almost made her scream, but the last night she had felt his adoration from a afar, thus forewarning her that he was about to materialize like a dream. He had begun by kissing her on the lips, coaxing her towards the bed, and then her neck and shoulders. He had run his nimble hands up and down her sides so slowly and oh-so-sensually. She had felt his touch all through her body; she had felt it in her toes, her thighs, her stomach, her chest, her face and her neck.
Something jingled softly when she was able to raise her arm atlast, and it was shiny whatever it was. Her first thought was how pretty it was, how it glistened when it caught the slim rays of sunlight, and the second made her suddenly too aware of what she felt. There was magic in the bracelet, she could sense the pull of it, and it tasted familiar. It was like a song you have listened to many times – something you would recognise anywhere. Her grandmother back in Scotland had spoken about charms like this one once, but she knew it aswell from something else... She wondered what had happened the night before.
Somehow, Damon knew without having to ask her that Bonnie would rather have her first taste of blood using more conventional methods – conventional meaning that he would have to borrow some blood from the local hospital's supplies and he would have to purchase a straw; If this was anybody else's first feeding he would not have tried so hard to make sure it was as comfortable as it possibly could be. But this wasn't just anyone. This was Bonnie, and she was his.
He made sure the two little bags of blood were out of sight and not hanging out of his pockets before he entered the little convience store. He didn't need hysteric employees running to the police, or the local mental hospital, because he had stolen blood in his hands. That would just waste time, and that he could ill-afford. It had been fairly simple to glamour the hospital staff into letting him withdraw blood bags, but a straw? That required a little more than just great charisma.
He already knew that the employee behind the till was female, but he couldn't work out what else she was until he saw her. There was a strange familiararity about the woman, like a taste you would be able to distinguish above all the rest, and after the split second it took him to think the word he had his defences up and ready.
The witch looked plain enough in her uniform, almost normal-looking, he thought. She had a pair of in-ear headphones on and was wavering on the spot as if she couldn't help but dance a little to whatever she was listening to. He thought about turning around and finding another shop, but time was more prescious than his dignity. The name on her 'HELLO, MY NAME IS... HOW CAN I HELP YOU tag said Alice but he wondered if that was her real name.
"Excuse me," he tried, hating having to pretend like he was just a normal customer on a boring normal errand, "I wonder if you can help me?" He repeated this three times before the teenage girl noticed him standing there, but even when she did she stood there gawking for a few more prescious seconds. At last he shouted into her face, his eyes turning green, "I need straws!" he roared, and she pointed towards one of the furthest stalls at the back, her eyes as round and unseeing as a deer in the headlights.
He stalked across the store, his eyes raking the shelves which were stacked with products intended for little kiddies' parties. The straws were the last thing on the display and they came in packs of twenty-four. Maybe he would need twenty-four, who knew?
He was just about to leave the store with the overly large pack of straws when the witch at the counter stopped him with one sharp word. "Wait!" she called, coming around the desk and towards him, "You know you have to pay for those..." her voice trailed off when she was close enough to sense the waves of power rolling off of him. Her eyes narrowed, but not in anger. "Why the hell would a vampire need straws?"
When Bonnie came down the stairs into the living area she found her sister Mary sitting on the coach watching television and looking as if she might fall asleep at any moment. It was only when she was halfway across the rosy varnished wood floor that she realised that she was creeping. Her foot steps made no sound as she moved, as if she made no contact though she could feel the ground beneath her bare feet. It was strangely easy to move like this – silently, being able to hear breathing even this far away... She stopped moving suddenly and listened. It was more than her sister's breathing that she could hear, because she could hear her heartbeat as it beat slow and steady in Mary's chest. She could even smell her blood, and she imagined what it would taste like on her tongue...