We Love Like Vampires.
Look Pancakes
In the morning, I decided to make Frank’s favorite pancakes, hoping it would help me get on his good side again. Eventually the sleeping beauty woke up. “Morning, beautiful. Pancakes?”
“Since when do you cook?”
“Since I love you, go sit and I will bring you a plate.” I brought my Frankie some with his favorite syrup, I hope he’s not still mad at me.
“You know this doesn’t make up for last night.”
“Aww, Frank. I’m sorry, look pancakes!” He’s being more stubborn then usual. What to do, what to do. I began to caress his neck, looking at the wounds from the times I had previously bitten him. I don’t want to hurt him, but if it will make him forgive me.
I began to kiss his neck gently. But slowly I picked up pace and began to suck on it, and Frank gave out a moan. I licked over his jugular, and asked, “May I?” he gave out a throaty yes. I hesitated with my fangs barely touching his skin, should I? I know Frank thinks the world of my control, but the truth is, I just don’t trust myself. I love my Frank, and having his death on my hands would just be to much to handle. “Gerard.” Frank groaned impatiently. Giving in, I pushed my fangs into his skin. I felt his 98.6 degree blood flow into my mouth. I hummed in pleasure as his savory blood trickled down my throat. But I could feel Frank starting to lose his strength, and unwillingly pulled away.
“No, Gerard, don’t stop.”
“You’ll pass out soon.”
“But,”
“No, here have some orange juice.” Grumbling Frank took a glass. I picked him up and grabbed the plate of uneaten pancakes, and sat on the couch. Setting Frank upon my lap, I began to cut up a pancake and tried to feed it to him. He just glared at me.
“Frank.” I whined.
“Since when do you cook?”
“Since I love you, go sit and I will bring you a plate.” I brought my Frankie some with his favorite syrup, I hope he’s not still mad at me.
“You know this doesn’t make up for last night.”
“Aww, Frank. I’m sorry, look pancakes!” He’s being more stubborn then usual. What to do, what to do. I began to caress his neck, looking at the wounds from the times I had previously bitten him. I don’t want to hurt him, but if it will make him forgive me.
I began to kiss his neck gently. But slowly I picked up pace and began to suck on it, and Frank gave out a moan. I licked over his jugular, and asked, “May I?” he gave out a throaty yes. I hesitated with my fangs barely touching his skin, should I? I know Frank thinks the world of my control, but the truth is, I just don’t trust myself. I love my Frank, and having his death on my hands would just be to much to handle. “Gerard.” Frank groaned impatiently. Giving in, I pushed my fangs into his skin. I felt his 98.6 degree blood flow into my mouth. I hummed in pleasure as his savory blood trickled down my throat. But I could feel Frank starting to lose his strength, and unwillingly pulled away.
“No, Gerard, don’t stop.”
“You’ll pass out soon.”
“But,”
“No, here have some orange juice.” Grumbling Frank took a glass. I picked him up and grabbed the plate of uneaten pancakes, and sat on the couch. Setting Frank upon my lap, I began to cut up a pancake and tried to feed it to him. He just glared at me.
“Frank.” I whined.
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