Cadaveria
What now?
To say I was nervous would be little. I was exploding on Ecstasy, expectation and excitement.
"Finally!" I thought as I bent forward and passed my arms around his neck. His skin was cold, the kind of cold that goes down your spine. If I had used logic, I would had known that he had not drank before, but I was to high on bliss.
His cocky smile did not changed. He barely frowned his eyebrow in what I guessed as surprise. Though his corporal language spelled delight. I buried my head in his golden messy hair, my cheeks touching his stony skin. Leaving my shoulder at perfect range for his teeth, but he didn't bit me.
He let me hold him, and returned the embrace without using his fangs in any moment. You must understand, since I was very, very young, I had dreamed every night that some supernatural being would take me out of this dull, banal life. Every night. And he was there! There with his arms wrapped around me, and his tight leather black pants. His perfume was spectral, he smelled like blood and rain. That odor when rain had just fell and the dirt and the earth are alive. Yet I was aware of his subhuman state. No mortal, or in-mortal interrupted us while we remained there. I had somehow started crying, and I did not cried. Never. But I was crying because finally, in this world of vain suffering, in htis generation of bullshit, in this GDL the city of the shame. I was not alone.
He remained still. His marvelous eyes fixed on me. Then it came the logical question for all, well for all the insecures and the maniacs.
"Why me?" I said pushing myself away from the embrace. I had always hated my voice, it never expressed what I felt but now it was precise. Not shaky, not to rough, ideal for the cause.
He smirked playfully passing his tongue through his fangs, drawing such a sutile drop of blood, that I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Still knelt in front of me, still watching me.
"Oh but the question is why not?" He was enjoying himself. It was obvious to anyone, and I suddenly felt like a prey, and not a predator. I was not scared, or horrified, just uneasy.
"Well fair simple..." I tried to talk with the most careless tone, but then it came to me. A vampire like Lestat, can always read my thoughts. As this came in my mind, he nodded cynically, but I spoke again.
"This is a land of no man, I am just a teenager with personality crisis, and a big imagination. I'm a maniac, a disgusting being who dreams to much, in fact this could all be a dream!" I burst, now breaking apart and sitting back in my place. I was tormented by the idea that It could be just an illusion.
But he shook his head and changing his expression, he seemed lost in his thoughts. He took a finger to his chin, and pressed his face in a very human attitude. I don't know if he was thinking on how to convince me of the contrary, but I found him so impossible.
And he must have caught my thoughts, because his juvenile smile spread back across his face.
I hadn't even noticed his black cape, and it seemed surprising that nobody was around. I instintly looked towards the door expecting any sign of human life in the house.
"No one will come around." He spoke in such a magical way. Unless you have heard a vampire, being a mortal, you could never understand. And this was not only a vampire this was Lestat. His voice was fluid and grave, yet kept the soft tune of a lover. though he was no lover of mine.
My adoration towards him was obvious and he could not help but boast his wilderness, and his amazing beauty. Inciting me to adore him such more, but it was not natural, it was not physical attraction, though it had to do with it.
Lestat then sprang to his feet. He was so fast I couldn't notice the change of position, everything was in place, as if he had always been standing, always since the beginning of times, and he again seemed delighted.
"Lets go, my night queen." His said in a tone low and enthusiastic, and it dispel any of my doubts. He surely knew how to talk to me, and now that I think of it. It was not only because of his in mortal condition, that he seemed so charming.
And I did not protested when he passed his arm around my waist and pushed me away from the seat, in fact away from the floor. He was so fucking fast, that before I could notice it. I was out, in the storm with him. Tightly pressed to his body, resting my head on his neck, thinking to myself
"What now?"
"Finally!" I thought as I bent forward and passed my arms around his neck. His skin was cold, the kind of cold that goes down your spine. If I had used logic, I would had known that he had not drank before, but I was to high on bliss.
His cocky smile did not changed. He barely frowned his eyebrow in what I guessed as surprise. Though his corporal language spelled delight. I buried my head in his golden messy hair, my cheeks touching his stony skin. Leaving my shoulder at perfect range for his teeth, but he didn't bit me.
He let me hold him, and returned the embrace without using his fangs in any moment. You must understand, since I was very, very young, I had dreamed every night that some supernatural being would take me out of this dull, banal life. Every night. And he was there! There with his arms wrapped around me, and his tight leather black pants. His perfume was spectral, he smelled like blood and rain. That odor when rain had just fell and the dirt and the earth are alive. Yet I was aware of his subhuman state. No mortal, or in-mortal interrupted us while we remained there. I had somehow started crying, and I did not cried. Never. But I was crying because finally, in this world of vain suffering, in htis generation of bullshit, in this GDL the city of the shame. I was not alone.
He remained still. His marvelous eyes fixed on me. Then it came the logical question for all, well for all the insecures and the maniacs.
"Why me?" I said pushing myself away from the embrace. I had always hated my voice, it never expressed what I felt but now it was precise. Not shaky, not to rough, ideal for the cause.
He smirked playfully passing his tongue through his fangs, drawing such a sutile drop of blood, that I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Still knelt in front of me, still watching me.
"Oh but the question is why not?" He was enjoying himself. It was obvious to anyone, and I suddenly felt like a prey, and not a predator. I was not scared, or horrified, just uneasy.
"Well fair simple..." I tried to talk with the most careless tone, but then it came to me. A vampire like Lestat, can always read my thoughts. As this came in my mind, he nodded cynically, but I spoke again.
"This is a land of no man, I am just a teenager with personality crisis, and a big imagination. I'm a maniac, a disgusting being who dreams to much, in fact this could all be a dream!" I burst, now breaking apart and sitting back in my place. I was tormented by the idea that It could be just an illusion.
But he shook his head and changing his expression, he seemed lost in his thoughts. He took a finger to his chin, and pressed his face in a very human attitude. I don't know if he was thinking on how to convince me of the contrary, but I found him so impossible.
And he must have caught my thoughts, because his juvenile smile spread back across his face.
I hadn't even noticed his black cape, and it seemed surprising that nobody was around. I instintly looked towards the door expecting any sign of human life in the house.
"No one will come around." He spoke in such a magical way. Unless you have heard a vampire, being a mortal, you could never understand. And this was not only a vampire this was Lestat. His voice was fluid and grave, yet kept the soft tune of a lover. though he was no lover of mine.
My adoration towards him was obvious and he could not help but boast his wilderness, and his amazing beauty. Inciting me to adore him such more, but it was not natural, it was not physical attraction, though it had to do with it.
Lestat then sprang to his feet. He was so fast I couldn't notice the change of position, everything was in place, as if he had always been standing, always since the beginning of times, and he again seemed delighted.
"Lets go, my night queen." His said in a tone low and enthusiastic, and it dispel any of my doubts. He surely knew how to talk to me, and now that I think of it. It was not only because of his in mortal condition, that he seemed so charming.
And I did not protested when he passed his arm around my waist and pushed me away from the seat, in fact away from the floor. He was so fucking fast, that before I could notice it. I was out, in the storm with him. Tightly pressed to his body, resting my head on his neck, thinking to myself
"What now?"