NOTE: It was supposed to be something entirely different, but eh. Past tense hinders my writing, seriously. Think of a better summary later.
"I want to see what your eyes really look like," Eren started, wincing when Rivaille bit down harder. Rivaille licked the wound once, twice apologetically before returning to his meal. Eren sighed, taking care not to shift to irritate Rivaille, and draped his arms over Rivaille's shoulders.
"Or were you born with red eyes? I can't tell the difference between pure-bloods and shifters, y'know. They all look the same to me." This time Rivaille didn't apologize when he bit down harshly.
"Ow, ow, ow, okay, I get it, you're different," Eren protested. The boy pouted, leaning over to press his lips against the side of Rivaille's head softly.
"I just really wanted to see something that you don't share with others. Your eyes are nice either way," Eren smiled and cried out when he was shoved away from where he had been straddling the vampire. He looked up and Rivaille was looking away from him, the half of his face covered in a hand almost casually.
"You smell like shit," the vampire said, "go clean yourself up."
Eren scowled, pressing a hand against his neck, "Sure weren't complaining when you were sucking me dry, huh you old shithead. Guess memory losses applies to vampires too." He faltered when he felt the murderous intent emanating and straightened.
"Ah, I mean, I'll leave you to your reminiscing, grandpa," Eren corrected and rushed out of the room before Rivaille decided he had enough.
"Tch, insolent brat," Rivaille muttered as blood dripped from his lips where he had pushed Eren too hastily, "saying things like that."
A tongue snaked out to catch the last drops of blood before it escaped.
I'll eat you up.
The moon dusted through the shadows, playing with the lighting on Rivaille's face as Eren examined it carefully. Rivaille only regarded him with a disinterested gaze as they lay in bed.
"Why won't you let me see what your eyes really look like? You said it's only like this when you're hungry or favor it."
"Why do you care so much? Go to sleep."
"And you just fed, so you really don't want me to see it. Is it something abnormal? I don't care about that, Rivaille," Eren pouted.
Rivaille only buried his face in Eren's hair, feeling Eren's breathing eventually slow to a sleeping pace. What an idiot, Rivaille thought as he carded his hand through Eren's hair, I'm always hungry around you.
"How do you turn a human into a vampire?"
Rivaille paused, glanced over to Eren who was glancing through Rivaille's shelves of books. He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes.
"You mean shifters? They rarely make it through the transformation, and when they do, they usually turn into husks."
Rivaille looked away, moving to shift the heavy curtains back into place. "Don't get ideas into your head, brat."
"I just wanted to know."
Rivaille sighed. "We both have to exchange blood willingly but you need a strong donor for that." He walked over to Eren as he trailed his fingers over the spines of aged books.
"Why do you say 'we'? It was a hypothetical question."
Rivaille didn't answer, leaned up to press his lips against Eren's neck lightly. "Don't think too far ahead, brat. It's fine." Then he left the study, presumably to board up the other windows.
Eren touched the slight indents in his neck, though not deep enough to linger or break skin long.
"It was hypothetical question," Eren insisted. A pureblood was the strongest vampire there was and Rivaille was a pureblood, so the boy guessed that was that.
Guess I'm just not good enough to keep around for permanent company. Typical immortal behavior. Although, it didn't really matter.
It didn't really matter when the stake entered the wrong heart either. The hunter realized his mistake as soon as he made it, retreating, muttering a low apology. He turned to leave Eren to die by himself when the hand stabbed through his heart.
"You miserable filthy shit," Rivaille sneered, "as if I'd let you get away." He threw the hunter to the side quickly and rushed to Eren's side who was laying on the ground and had just removed the wood from his chest. It only made the wound worse, the blood spilling freely to the ground. Rivaille grimaced only for a moment before reaching for Eren's wrist, biting gently and drinking just enough for it to count.
He offered his own wrist to Eren's lips, but they remained still. Rivaille scowled, "Don't tell me I have to baby-feed you, you're fucking gross."
Eren only coughed out blood. Rivaille's eyes burned a bright crimson even as his face pinched into a disgusted expression. Quickly, he bit into his own pale wrist, sucking blood before crushing his lips to Eren, transferring the blood. He leaned back and Eren spat it out a second later. Rivaille looked livid, before fear schooled his expression.
"Trust me," Rivaille whispered, grasping Eren's too pale face, "trust me, Eren."
Eren chuckled weakly, "Mikasa always said you couldn't trust a person who had to say that."
"Fuck Mikasa," Rivaille snapped, "listen to me. I can turn you, so don't die."
"But the success rate is small, remember? And I don't want to live my life as a husk if things go wrong."
"You won't," Rivaille said firmly, too confident, too weak, "You won't, Eren. Let me."
But it wasn't about that, not really, Eren thought. Because if humans were good at one thing, it was dying. Eren already gave Rivaille everything he had, everything human, he couldn't let Rivaille take this away from him too. Rivaille, hearing the silence, scoffed.
"So you're not willing to live with me forever, huh? Classic human bullshit." Eren closed his eyes and Rivaille growled, slamming his lips against Eren's.
The kiss was harsh, full of grievances and lies and everything dying in the world. Eren found falling in love was like dying: sometimes it was quick and fast and peaceful, and sometimes it was a slow death, painful and elongated. Eren just wanted it to stop.
And it did, and it will. Eren could feel it in his bones, the way the world seemed to still for a moment, as if it was waiting for him to decide, before rushing past him again, away away away until Eren couldn't feel a thing.
And then there was a ghost at his ear, whispering nothings that Eren couldn't quite place. When he turned to look, all he could see was a mirror, a pitying look.
The mirror opened its mouth, careful and slow, "Didn't you want to see the world?"
Eren laughed. The sound crawled out of his lungs like a disease, painfully slow but demanding to be acknowledged. Eren laughed and laughed because he didn't want to cry and die (not really). But he already did. Yes, Eren thought, but the world could go away.
The mirror opened its mouth, careful and slow, "Didn't you want to see his eyes?"
Eren laughed. He choked halfway through, because yes, yes I did, so much it burned.
But I can't, I can't.
The mirror closed its mouth, careful and slow, "Didn't you want to die?"
Eren kissed back with strength he couldn't have, and it burned his lungs, it burned his eyes, it burned his heart, it burned everywhere. It was too late, but he felt the burn, tasted Rivaille on his lips, and he bit down.
Blood filled his mouth, a sinful ugly taste, and he swallowed. He could feel Rivaille's fangs on his lips, a reminder, a promise.
Please. Just let me see his eyes, just let me see the world for a little while, and then I'll go, I promise.
Eren opened his eyes to something dark and clear and so Rivaille he was surprised he didn't see it before.
Eren opened his eyes and saw both.