Page 30 of Love Bleeds
Chapter Eleven
Crimson stared at the boy in front of him. He wanted to be bitten? Why? Crimson took a step toward him to eye him more closely. He couldn't deny it. There was something oddly familiar about that face, as if he'd studied it a million times before. He was sure that they'd known each other, once upon a time. The blond hadn't confirmed it, but he hadn't denied it either. He'd seemed to lack the words for some reason.
As if what they'd had was too big to be expressed in a few words.
Crimson let his gaze roam the other man's body.
He was a bit too scrawny to be conventionally attractive, but Crimson found himself wanting to draw him closer anyway. There was something about his big eyes that made Crimson want to protect him, and something about his lips that made him want to kiss them.
Was that what they'd been?
"Bite me," the mortal repeated, even as his voice trembled.
"Why?"
His gaze dropped to the ground. "That's what vampires do, isn't it?"
"I'm under orders not to bite you."
The blond looked up again, searching Crimson's eyes. "But you want to?"
Crimson couldn't help it; he glanced at the boy's neck. He could almost smell the blood rushing through his veins. What type would it be? A? B? O? No, he had to stop thinking about it. Already, his teeth itched with the urge to feed. But he couldn't hurt someone else who'd once meant something to him.
No matter how badly he wanted to puncture this mortal’s skin with his fangs.
"It's my fault that you are like this," the boy said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." His eyes shone with unspilled tears. He blinked rapidly, obviously unwilling to let them fall.
He looked so vulnerable like that. So much in need of someone to wrap him in his arms and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Crimson couldn't promise that. He didn't have the power to promise anything.
"If you bite me," the mortal said, his voice pinched, "at least you'll remember."
Crimson shook his head. "I might kill you if I did that."
"I don't care!" The mortal's eyes flashed with determination. "Everyone's always so concerned about my safety, I'm sick of it! I can make my own damn decisions. I don't need anyone to save me." He paused his little tirade to draw breath, so upset he didn't even seem to notice the single tear that rolled down his cheek. "I just want you to know who I am."
Who he was.... Crimson wasn't sure about that, but he was sure about one thing. He was never going to risk this mortal's safety by biting him, no matter how upset he got. Acting on pure instinct, he touched the mortal's face to wipe the wetness from his cheek. "I'm sorry."
The blond locked eyes with him at the contact, but didn't recoil from the touch. "You're not the one who should be sorry."
But Crimson was, because no matter what he'd done, it had caused the other boy pain, and he wished more than anything that he could take that pain away.
"You should be mad at me," the mortal went on, talking himself into a frenzy. "If you knew what I did, why you ended up like this, how all these years I didn't realize that--"
Crimson shut him up by cupping his chin and kissing him.
And not only because he was getting so loud he was going to attract Vlad's attention, if he hadn't already.
The mortal's skin felt warm against his fingertips, his lips just rough enough to let him know he was kissing a man rather than a woman--and how did he remember that? More than anything, Crimson wanted to draw the mortal closer, press their bodies together and deepen the kiss, but he felt resistance there. The mortal was tense. Crimson had misread the situation. They hadn't been in any sort of relationship after all.
Well, that was embarrassing.
Crimson was about to let go when the mortal slung his arms around his neck, keeping him in place. "I'm so sorry," he said again, breaking their chaste kiss to speak into Crimson's ear instead. The sound of his voice, the melody of it, tugged at Crimson's memory. If only he could remember... but it was as if anything that had happened in his old life had happened at least a hundred years ago. Too distant to get a firm grip on.
"I forgive you," Crimson promised, because that was one thing he could promise, wasn't it? "Whatever it is. I forgive you."
The mortal made a sound in the back of his throat as if he was going to cry but stopped himself at the last minute. "Damian..." he choked out instead.
Damian? Was that his name? It didn't ring a bell, but then, he didn't have a lot of time to ponder the name either, because the next moment, the mortal's lips touched his again, and this time, it hadn't been him who initiated the contact.
