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Subject: {ASSM} Night Child {Night Writer} (MF no sex vampire)
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Date: Thu, 14 Oct 2004 20:10:04 -0400
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"Night Child"
   by Night Writer


I first saw you in shadows, hiding from the light, surrendering
brief glimpses of ivory skin beneath wisps of dancing hair.

Standing against him, your body betrays you, not clinging but
wanting, not begging but needing. Urgent eyes darting, at him,
then down, sure of what you want, unsure of who can give it.

He turns away, melting into the crowd. Did he understand? Would
he ever? Would anyone?

You turn to look at me, suddenly, knowing that I watch you, but
seeing only night, sure that I was there only a second ago. I see
smooth expanses of translucent skin, following the plane of a
perfect cheek, then down, to the supple neck and velvet shoulder
below. From this distance, I feel the warm pulsing, increasing,
faster and faster, as you search for me with your dark eyes.

How many times have you failed? How many have accused you,
wrongly? How often have you repeated the mistakes others never
make? How many lovers gone, knowing they could never stay, at
least not for long? How many hours, weeks, years, have you
befriended the pain that has become a part of you? How often have
you begged to be free of the agony that is your life?

But I know all these things. They empty into me as your eyes peer
through strands of corn silk, seeking me out in the shifting
blackness.

Now behind you, close enough to inhale the scent escaping through
the fragile covering of your warm flesh, I open myself to you and
you turn again, surprised at my presence, so close, so knowing.

You want to do it. I only have to push a little, suggesting with
a look. Your fingers work the row of buttons free, then shrug the
blouse from your thin shoulders. Loose, quivering breasts under
bone-white collarbones glow in the pale light of the full moon.

Stepping closer, you offer your mouth, then the contours of your
graceful neck, surrendering yourself as your eyes close, waiting.

Driven by a hunger I no longer control, I'm tasting you, salty,
soft surfaces, yielding under my tongue and mouth. Fleshy
breasts, then shoulders, then my destination, that long curve
that courses with your lifeblood. Savoring the flavor of your
fear and abandon, I pause. Then, feeling the urgency of your
submission, I feast.

My thirst has conquered me. Small things make it so; the tiny pop
when I breach the skin, the salty warmth that flows, suddenly at
first, then evenly as I coax it from your body. My pulse pounds,
almost unbearably, as I drink, your white body shuddering against
me.

You smile a little as you stare vacantly into the darkness, then
a low moan as your limp body trembles; finally, a quiet sigh as
you let go of your pain, chasing it into the shadows around us.

No more failures, mistakes, or lost love. An eternity to make new
alliances, not with pain, but with strength and opportunity. Now,
not a discarded soul, but a child of the night.


                          -- The End --


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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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