✧Mirroring Bluebird✧
BEBE! Bada Lee x BEBE! F Reader :
You are the younger sister of Noze and had gone viral at the same time as her. While working under SM, you meet Bada and become a core member of Bebe, but what if you get the same treatment your sister does, just like in the first season?
Word Count: 2.3k
Note: Basically doing my req for the next few days, lol. Reader goes by a stage name! Something light as of rn. Also very much not proof read.
Character Vision Board
Gaining popularity in the Kpop industry as a dancer was quite common. There were multiple examples, but one of the most viral ones to date was the Noh sisters, Noh Jihye and Noh Y/n.
Generally known as Noze and Nova, the two of you were cast by Kai while he was looking for dancers for his debut. Kai was certainly particular with the dancers he chose, being meticulous about the entire process but seemingly making the right decision for his career when the two of you blow up. How couldn’t the people fall in love with the two of you? Your visuals were practically the same.
As the younger sibling, the only noticeable difference was your height, hair color, eyes, and lips, yet if you took a selfie with your sister, there wouldn’t be much of a difference. You were known for your iconic hair, which was colored black with a hefty midnight blue ombre, and full lips that were usually colored in a dusty pink.
During your time as Kai’s dancer, your sister began to stray away from SM entertainment, trying out for other artists, but you were content, staying put in the current company. That’s when Bada started appearing as Kai’s dancer during festival performances.
The very first time you and Bada crossed paths, an in-house choreographer was instructing her on how to perform a routine for the water bomb. During that encounter, you not only met Bada but you also got acquainted with Lusher and Tatter. You hit it off quite nicely with the trio, but you couldn't help but be captivated by the tall dancer. Her natural leadership qualities and the budding connections she formed with all three of you marked the start of your group, which would later be known to the world as Bebe.
After a year of being friends, you and Bada put on your big girl pants, deciding to act on these feelings. So, after dating for a few months, you two became a couple.
It was pretty cute. At first, you'd post pictures of your charming little dates with the dancer in the background, yet her face was always out of the frame. As you softly launched your relationship to the world, people in your comments went into a frenzy, assuming you were dating a man because of the clothing glimpses they could catch.
As time went on, your posts started to take on a distinct resemblance to Bada's. The timing, the themes, and even the locations you both chose became remarkably similar, to the point where your fans couldn't help but connect the dots. That's when all hell broke loose, as the realization hit: two of the hottest dancers in the K-pop industry were, in fact, a couple.
Of course, they’d eat it up.
Four months ago, Bada had accepted the invitation to Street Woman Fighter, but she had to complete the team first. Bebe only currently had you and the Lee duo and Tatter, so you and Bada took some of your friends and students to achieve a successful team. Minah was a dancer in SM who had been close to you and Bada for some time, so picking her was a breeze. Then Kyma and Cheche were Bada’s students, while Sowoen has been yours for the past year.
So when the time finally came when every group was introduced, while crews were still shocked over Jam Republic, they couldn’t help but be surprised at the two big names under Bebe.
“Bada?” Lady Bounce Biggy gasps, seeing the tall dancer and her resume. Then the screen flashes again, showing your face and work experience. Everyone is shocked; your pretty face is an unanticipated surprise. “Season 1 had Noze, and now we have Nova in season 2?” Cera of Mannequeen says, choking a little when seeing your face. “Aren’t her and Bada together?” Halo of Wolf’Lo asks, pointing accusingly at the screen as her team nods.
“Is that healthy for a relationship?”
“Will they be able to compete properly?”
“Doesn’t seem like they’ll be taking the competition seriously then.”
Those were just a few comments the two of you got. Expecting that already, you walked in with your crew as you were the first to enter the fight zone. As you all entered, Sowoen was the first to hit the stage and saw your team logo on the screen. “Bebe~” The maknae squeals as you enter. You, hand in hand with Bada, smile at the youngest.
“Okay. Let’s take a seat,” Bada announces, and everyone sits, you positioning yourself between Bada and Tatter. “I can’t believe this,” Lusher tells the crew, and Tatter nods, “Me either.” “There must be other teams,” Lusher says as she scans the room, seeing everyone else's crew logo.
Bada hypes herself up, saying she likes it as her grip on your hand tightens. You smile, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles, but you hear “What It Is” by Doechii playing on the large monitor before you can speak. The younger girls send a yelp, seeing the crew's evaluation video playing.
“Who’s the most popular choreographer on that team? Bada?” they hear Mina Myoung say. Then 1Million shows up on the screen, Lia Kim saying a few words, “The choreographer, sweeping the choreography field. A hot choreographer,” the girls cheer their leader on at the soft praises as you lean your head on her shoulder, a proud smile beginning to form on your face after hearing all the recognition your girlfriend got.
“Nova is really popular, too,” Yeni Cho points out, and Baby Sleek nods, acknowledging your skills. “She’s a really entertaining performer. An eye-catcher for sure.” Chocol states, and you redden at the statement, causing Bada to pinch your side. You look at her, offended by the action, but she gives you a fake look of irritation, “Try not to fall for anyone else here.”
You giggle, seeing her pout a little, “You know you’re the only one for me, baby.” She smiles, leaning her head on top of yours as the video continues to roll. “Other than Bada and Nova… the others are just kind of there,” Capri says, and you shake your head as Bada scoffs, “Shall we watch it over there?”
She doesn’t even wait for a response, just pulling your arm to the center. When everyone follows, they listen to Ling of Jam Republic, Gooseul of DeepNDap, the rest of Lady Bounce, and some of Wolf’Lo stating things about Bada and your crew.
Yeni Cho popped up on the screen again, “She’s more popular compared to her dance skills.” That makes Bada chuckle, finding the comment amusing. You knew your girlfriend wouldn’t be affected by the comments made about her. She would be by what was said about her crew, though.
Of course, you weren’t safe either. “She’s just a pretty face like her sister,” Yoonji of Mannequeen says, and the other girls nod. “She’s just gonna be another Noze of this season,” Redlic points out, more in an evident tone than a hateful one.
“Her and Bada are gonna have to carry Bebe hard.”
“Nova’s Bebe’s mascot. She doesn’t have to do anything.”
You laugh at the comments, none affecting you in the way they're supposed to, but Bada, on the other hand, seems to be fuming. As much as you got praised, most of it was for your looks. You had told Bada beforehand not to let it get to her and just to expect it, but Bada couldn’t help but fume at the comments.
As you all sit down, you notice her face going red and squeeze her hand in reassurance, whispering to her, “It’s fine, babe. We just have to show them why they’re wrong.”
“They must be idiots to think you aren’t a good dancer just because you're pretty,” she tells you, rolling her eyes. You softly turn Bada’s head with your fingers, “Calm down.” Bada sighs when making eye contact with you, her body relaxing as you all wait for the next team. “They really shouldn’t underestimate pretty faces,” She says with a hum as she fixes the strands of hair covering your face.
Lady Bounce then comes in, a bit too rowdy for Bebe’s liking, and as the purple team took their seats, your gazes never wavered. You and Bada stared hard, causing some girls to shiver, especially with the dark glint in your eyes. Bebe loved calling you a serpent because you are the scarier sister, and your tall height also added to the scary factor. Your eyes are as compelling as a snake's and always intimidate people who meet you. Lady Bounce's face going a bit indifferent at the dancer's glares.
Then Mannequeen comes down, Bada meeting Yoonji’s gaze. As they come down, the team stands in front of the two tall ladies, and the rest of Mannequeen hype the girl who dances the Rover choreo in pure silence. All you could hear was her dress and heels clacking as the young girls of Bebe giggle. Bada just smiles condescendingly and bows, “Thank you~.”
You kept the unamused look, brows almost furrowing in disgust as Yoonji stopped. You mumble, “What was that?” yet make sure she hears your words. Seeing her hesitant face told you that she heard it loud and clear. As everyone begins taking their seats, Kang Daniel comes out, gives the introduction, announces the judges, and goes to change as they’re told.
When returning to your seat, everyone’s eyes go wide at the sight of your pants. You had a row of stickers on one leg, back and front. “She got like 7 on one leg, right?” Kristen mumbles to Latrice, who nods after counting the stickers on her leg. “Damn, that's rough,” Audrey says, knowing none of those stickers weren’t from anyone on Jam Republic.
“I’ll prove them wrong,” You tell your entire team, who look obviously angry for you. “They targeted you, and for what?” Tatter frowns, and you just pat her head with a tight-lipped smile.
When the battles are announced, 1Million’s Redy is called first, and she picks Bada. You were aware of the situation before. Bada explained that she was beginning to get too busy then, and Redy had already blocked her number before she could reach out. The timing was wrong, but you also understood the younger girl’s perspective.
“I just don’t respect you,” Redy simply states, but when Bada calls the girl “Soobin-ah,” everyone feels the second-hand embarrassment of Redy. When the battles begin, Redy isn’t bad, and you feel like you saw similar aspects of Bada’s style, probably due to them being on the same team previously. When Bada began, though, all eyes were on her, and NO ONE looked away, not even for a second.
Bada entertained the crowd, making sure to have her own fun. As she ends the dance, she peaks at you, winking, making you laugh. She sure knew how to tease people, you included, and used it to her advantage. Sometimes, it made you wanna curse how attractive she was. The battle concluded with Bada winning 3 to 0, and she smiled.
She runs over to you in a crushing hug, and you giggle due to her heavy breathing. “You did good,” she nods as your hands caress her long hair. More and more battles then transpired, and you pretty much only paid attention to a select few. That was until you hear Tsubakill’s Akanen being called up. “The person I have no-respect for is… Bebe’s Nova.” You perk up at your name, smiling at your first battle of the night.
“Akanen-san, why did you choose Nova?”
“To see if the pretty face can show a pretty dance,” her tone felt intrigued by the idea of you, and you smirked, “I can show a dance. It just won't be pretty,” all you heard were “Oo’s ~” and “ah’s~” from other teams as you jump a bit, shaking away any straying nerves. Akanen goes first, and you hated to admit it, but you were impressed. She did her best to taunt you despite your height gap, which made you look down on her. At some point, she approaches you and imitates a hitting motion. Bada, her girlfriend reflexes kicking in, pulled your arm back, trying to create space between you two, but you weren't budging.
So when the music switches, you feel yourself getting hyped at the sound of “Kiss Kiss” by Chris Brown. When the chorus hits, you hit an air baby, and when landing on your feet, you glided on the floor only using your knees. You ensured everyone’s eyes stayed on you, commanding the stage in a way every other crew wasn’t expecting.
As everyone hears ‘kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss,’ you imitate kissy faces while shaking your hip as you follow it with a head whip. Following the synth in the back, you hit a crisscross that goes into a heel-toe pattern, and as you hit that, you end the dance with a slight shuffle.
While you danced, you heard basically Minah, Sowoen, and Lusher could be heard cheering for you loudly. You check back behind you, Bada giving you a proud smile and a curt nod as her arms stay crossed. That’s when the judges also reveal your score of 3 and 0. Bebe jumped and cheered, bringing you into a large group hug as Bada stood back, watching the younger ones praise you. “Okay, okay, stop hogging her,” She tells them, pushing their heads away jokingly.
Bada pulls you into a hug, arms embracing your neck as she gives your head several pecks. You giggle at the feeling, and you just smile, slightly looking up at her. “You did amazing out there.”
“Thanks, leader-nim,” you tease, and she pokes your side, rolling her eyes and letting out a light laugh. “Oh, be quiet,” she says, giving you a quick peck to shut you up real quick.
Tag list (OPEN): @chipswsauce @nimixe @yooqui @eeeetaetterswife @efyyylee @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog @ssc7514 @kayascar @mrsdacherry @angel-hyuckie @letthemagicc @linda-botello @hyynee @only-minghaos @noraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @sun-nyy @tikitsune @xiakiyama @v2br33zyy
594 notes
·
View notes
There Are Nothing But Flowers
Summary: You want to play house and he’s just hungry.
Word Count: 11.3K
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), Modern AU, Vampire AU, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, TW: Medical gaslighting, description of medial treatments & corruption, TW: Blood & Blood drinking, vague mentions of violence, Contract Marriage AU, slight! enemies to lovers, Slow burn, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, creampie, slight corruption kink, temperature play? you fall hard, slow fic, tragedy.
Authors note: This is the other side to this work, your side of the story, please read the tags carefully. I wanted to explore the other side of the garden wall and themes of mortality, it’s heavy, please read when you feel well enough to see what lies beyond. Enjoy.
Side note: the aftermath
“Honey, I’ll be off to work now.” A dapper man straightens out his tie, a briefcase in his other hand.
“Dear…aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Are my pants unzipped again?” His eyes darted down as disembodied laughter rang out in the unseen background.
“No, you forgot this.” The pattering of house slippers stops as the woman cradles her lover's face between her hands.
The kiss from her immaculately painted lips melted the wrinkles from his forehead as the taller man leaned into his deserved affection.
“Have a good day at work, my love.”
—
A quiet house on the hill, white picket fences, and a lovely dog wagging its tail in the green yard. Eyes watching the vibrancies dance along a small screen, blocking out the gray in the peripheral.
Everything about this drama was cliché, the plot slow and predictable, just mediocre. So perfectly mundane that your hand itches to grab it through the screen like a thief. But are you really a thief if you steal back what was taken from you?
Before your mind can explore that comparison further a knock drags you out of the immersion, thumb quickly taps the screen to halt the fantasy.
“Good evening, ma’am.” The doctor in his white uniform enters.
“Hello, doctor.”
Two polite smiles greet each other, neither truly reaching the eyes. Your hands neatly folded together, his fiddling with the chipboard which held your verdict.
Observing how his teeth bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes scanned the charts. Your hands remain still even as he takes a deep breath.
“Unfortunately it has spread beyond our initial expectations. The results show that it’s progressed to a late stage despite our best efforts. Right now, you only have a few treatment options left.”
What happened to ‘just that time of the month’, ‘just get fresh air’, and ‘just give it some time’?
“There’s a series of procedures to cut out the spread, however, it might be very difficult as the infection is deep and intertwined with healthy tissue. The success rate is low, and the probability of it coming back is very high.”
What happened to ‘you’re young and healthy, it’s nothing’?
“The next possible treatment would be Kalpalata Lotuses. It has properties to slow inflections and has pain-reducing effects, however, it’s slow and inefficient in the long run. If you choose the first option you’ll have to pair it with treatment two. The first could give you fourteen years, the second on its own might only give you half of that.”
What were these past months spent behind a glass prison all for?
The constant hum of the machines filled in the dead space, the beeps on the monitors counting the passing seconds as two lips remained closed.
From the hallways, the chattering of nurses provided proof that the world in fact has not stopped spinning. Something dreadful filled the room, a silent suffocation. He was the first to fold.
“Please take your time to think this decision over, I’ll leave you to get some rest. Have a good night ma’am.” There was a flutter of pages folding back down to the clipboard.
The doctors were letting you pick your poison, how thoughtful of them.
Just as before two polite smiles that didn’t reach the eyes acknowledged each other, with a nod the doctor took his leave, eager to end his shift, to escape the unseen hands.
Not a word slipped past your lips during the one-sided conversation, tongue unable to string together a single sentence. What is there left to say?
As you lay back down your fingers brushed against the screen, restarting the episode as the laughter of an audience resonated along the sterile walls.
Maybe if the doctors, with their acclaimed degrees and status, were just a little more attentive.
Maybe if they didn’t simply see you as a lady with nonsensical symptoms.
Maybe if they didn’t view you as a statistic.
Then you wouldn’t have collapsed that day at work.
Then you wouldn’t have spent grueling months undergoing diagnosis after diagnosis.
Then maybe just maybe the Pythagorean Cup wouldn’t have surpassed its threshold, emptying out all hope.
The dialogue continues but it’s all but a fuzzy ringing now. Eyes watching the passing car lights dance upon the gray ceiling from the late evening traffic of workers, with their white or blue collars, eager to return home.
You longed for that, to return there. Hands itching to rip out the tube from your arm and the sensor with its pitched beeps.
Fourteen years, fourteen years of what? Bed sores from thin sheets? Chest pains at too deep of breaths? Stitches recovering only to be ripped open again?
Sounds more like a punishment delivered deep underground in a place whose temperature rivals the surface of a burning star.
Was it because you cursed at the man who cut you in line once?
Was it because you stole your college roommate’s sweater?
Was it because you never brought offerings to the Sanctuary of Surasthana?
Were you such a despicable person in a past life that the sins carried over?
Heavy lids closed to soothe the burning in your eyes, letting the warm trails run down your cheek. Reining your senses back from its escapade with a slow breath.
No. It’s none of that. It’s just life, capricious life. Capricious life that took your parents and now is hunting you.
There’s no karmic debt to pay off, there’s no faceless god to pray to. Setting one foot onto the path of true adulthood, only for your eyes to spot the end just over the horizon. What can you do?
The jumbled laughs and fuzzy speeches coming from your phone’s speaker were becoming too much. Thus you rolled your heavy body over to silence it. Once again the world outside the window was in view, the soft orange glow from the office right across leaking into the suffocating grey.
Oh, he’s at his desk tonight.
Wet eyes watch as the ashen-haired being shifts through sheets of crisp paper and his pen moving constantly. It’s strange, a bit mocking even, that an immortal creature could be so mundane.
Maybe that’s why their office is just across the Bimarstan, to taunt those who longed for that reality, beckoning them to sign their names on a dotted line.
Candace’s words were right, it’s a predatory scheme.
Perhaps hold habits die hard, after all, vampires are creatures of the night that once terrorized generations of humans.
Shielded by the panes of glass separating the two buildings, it was safe to continue this strange routine. Is staring at a stranger considered stalking if they’re the only view the windows offer?
He got up from his desk, moving towards the filing cabinet just off to the side, allowing for his profile to come into view.
He’s handsome, features outshining any of the male leads you’ve seen in movies.
Teal eyes, ashen hair like moonlight, tall and broad stature. It’s no mystery why so many heroes and heroines fell into depravity, lured in by their beauty, entranced minds blindly offering up their everything.
You weren’t special enough to be immune. Hence, why you continued to watch the nameless vampire who doesn’t know yours. Resting your cheek upon the stiff pillow, the feeling in your arm decreases like the cars in the streets. The pitched beeps keeping time.
He stood back up from his desk again, one hand grabbing the coat thrown over the back of a chair. Placing pens back into a cup and paper back into folders, he walks to the door before his hand shuts off the warm orange light.
It looks like tonight’s episode has ended on time like always. Rolling back to stare at the drab ceiling, allowing blood to rush back into your arm as the sensation of pins and needles crawled up. It wasn’t bothersome, as tonight's viewing evoked entertaining thoughts.
What a punctual vampire, where does he go after midnight? To a tavern or home?
Is someone waiting at the door for him there? Welcoming him back with soft lips?
Is that why he’s so eager to leave?
Your lids were growing heavy, the view of a blank ceiling wanes your alertness. The sweet curiosities coax you to continue in the realm of dreams, you listened to their call.
Could you be that someone?
“So, how ya feeling?” Dehya places down a container filled with baklava.
“Mmm…”
The metal legs of the visitor's chair scraped across the floor as she awaits your response.
“Would you still be my friend if I was a rock, Dehya?”
“Ahh, not this again.” She rolls her eyes.
Sitting upright in the hospital bed, hands folded together you awaited her response.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll still love you to bits even if you’re a pebble or something,” Dehya sighs, but there’s an upward tilt in her lips.
“I’ll love you too.” You helped yourself to some baklava.
A reward for your diversion of a miserable topic with sweet nonsense and special words. After all, she’s got a difficult job during the night, no need to make the day as difficult. Your mother used to say to save such words only for a special someone, but that’s the point of a word if it's never used?
–
“So, a few weeks ago I took this assignment that–” Dehya’s sapphire eyes moved behind you, gazing out the window where the sunlight poured in.
“Ugh, his office is right across from you.”
“Who?”
“Alhaitham, he’s a vampire I had the misfortune of meeting during a job, not that he’d remember.”
So the vampire’s name was Alhaitham, it felt nice on your tongue.
“Oh? How come?”
“He just always talks in long, convoluted sentences, and in that snooty tone, snooty even for a vampire.” Dehya takes a piece of baklava to ease her from that bitter work experience.
“My, I wonder how his spouse bares with him.” The bait was set out.
“Pfft?! Ahaha! Who? It’s nearly impossible to spend five minutes by his side.”
“Mm, really?”
“No ring on his finger. From what I’ve gathered even other vampires can’t stand that personality of his.” Dehya takes another piece.
Success.
–
The container of baklava now only holds a few crumbs and traces of sweet syrup. The sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, a sign that your friend’s visit was coming to an end.
After all, she’s got a duty to fulfill as a hunter that maintains the balance between mortals and creatures who dare cross the boundaries of the law.
Right as your hand returns from the air after bidding goodbye, it lands on the cold screen of your phone. In an age of growing cities and ever-advancing technologies, you’re grateful for these developments. As it makes your next actions possible.
It’s hard to miss a name when the letters are written in bold, imposing signs along the building just beyond the panes of glass.
As per Sumeru regulation, all employed vampires must be listed on company sites, an attempt at keeping track of such creatures.
Scrolling page after page until eyes landed upon familiar ash-mint trusses.
Name: Alhaitham
Species: Vampire (Born)
Title: Secretary
Years At Company: 168
Fingers clicked on the next tab.
“To apply for a blood contract, one must bring personal identification, and fill out an application during an appointed consultation with the vampire present. Once the boundaries of the contract are established, it will go through the approvement process.”
Eyes moved to the next tab.
“Seven years is the maximum time for a singular contract, but it can be renewed every seven years. Both parties must fulfill the terms written on the contract. The value of a contract is determined by the amount of blood offered on a regular basis or in a future deposit. Applying for a contract that gives the maximum, 10 pints, in a full sum amount must pass a psychological evaluation.”
--
Fourteen years is an unjustly cruel fate, but seven… Seven might be tolerable. After all, it’s often called the number of luck, you wonder if vampires were aware of this, maybe that’s why they chose that arbitrary number.
Waiting as the sun disappears behind the horizon with your head resting against the stiff pillow. The warm orange glow from the office across from you signaled the start of tonight’s episode. Observing every stop and start of his pen as two voices wrangled your thoughts.
There was a guest featured in this episode it seems, another vampire enters the office with a fresh stack of paper. He seemed eager for Alhaitham’s approval, even going as far as offering a pen out from his own pocket. However, this plan was foiled by a simple rise of hand by the male lead.
The universal signal for rejection.
The guest seemed dumbstruck. The only explanation the silver-haired lead gave was a simple gesture toward a clock. The guest’s hands were moving frantically as if to convey the urgency of the papers piled up.
However, Alhaitham simply takes his coat from the back of his chair and shuts off the warm light.
In the murky darkness, your eyes could just barely make out the silhouettes of two figures traversing out of the office. Oh, tonight’s episode has ended just on time as always.
How shamelessly punctual that vampire is. Some might even call it selfish. But what’s wrong with being selfish? After all, all true passions in life in the end are thinly veiled excuses for selfishness.
If life wanted to be shamelessly selfish, then why can’t you? With that, it seems one voice has finally emerged victorious.
Your fingers crept towards a button just off to the side, a quiet ding resounding as the bright glow flashed. Breaths counting the minutes before a set of footsteps stopped in front of your room, followed by a polite knock.
“Is there something you need, ma’am?”
“Yes, I want to discharge myself tomorrow, as soon as possible.”
Your eyes traced over the too-long string of zeros printed on the check, hands wanting to crumble up the slip of paper. So this is how much your life was worth. Standing outside the Bimarstan, you peered up at the tall building that once caged you.
Were the administrators looking down at you at this moment from their high offices? Were they watching your reaction to their little bribe? Pushing you to keep your lips shut, so that their mistakes and misjudgments won’t reach the ears of the press?
It doesn’t really matter now, but it was thoughtful of them to hand out an extra bargaining chip. Refocusing your attention back on the building just across the street, there were still some preparations to finish.
–
The time was now 6:30 pm, the sun has ran off into the night allowing for the stars to guide you back to the building just beyond the glass.
A simple bag held your offerings: proof of identity, property documents, doctor's notes, and bank statements handsomely topped off with the help of a certain check.
There’s a jitter in your legs as you stood just beyond the threshold of the sliding doors. Is it really the right thing to do?
What would be the look on the faces of your dearest friends?
Would the handsome stranger show last night’s gesture to you too?
Your lungs steadily filled with the crisp air, pushing their capacity almost to the point of pain, you exhaled.
The right thing to do is to be selfish, they’ll understand sooner or later, and the worst thing he could do is say no.
Even if you leave with your cheeks burning in shame, the burn would only last seven years. Your feet stepped past the threshold and the glass doors parted.
“Excuse me, is Mr. Alhaitham here tonight?” You already knew the answer.
“Hm? Yes… Are you looking for him, youngster?” The receptionist quirks a brow at you.
“Yes, I want to schedule a contract consultation with him right now.” You take note of her name tag.
“Hold just one moment, the secretary-”
“Is his schedule occupied right now?”
“No, but if you’d let me finish, Alhaitham isn’t one of the vampires that usually accept such-”
“Please, Madam Faruzan?”
You weren’t sure if it was the polite address of her name or the plead in your gaze that was the cause of the decisive furrow between her brows. However, her shoulders slumped forward as a huff leaves her lips.
“Alright, please follow me.” She gestures a hand, welcoming you to the elevator just behind the desk.
“Thank you.”
Within the confines of the fancy cart, the blue-haired vampire asks over and over if you had all the correct documents, listing each one out. Your skilled ears tuned every word out, nodding along to feign attention. Finally, the saving grace of a pleasant ding signals the chart’s stop at its destination.
When the polished doors slid apart, you charged out into the floor, your legs guiding you to the office with the clearest view of your old glass cage.
From behind you, Faruzan called out your name as she mutter something about how humans these days are always in just a rush. Your ears could care less about her words.
Gallivanting through the threshold of his open office door, you finally came face to face with the male lead you’ve been fawning over.
As his eyes meet yours, you observed the brilliant shades of teal and ocher in them. Really, the view from across two panes of glass couldn’t detail his true beauty.
“Hello, Mr. Alhaitham.” You beamed your best smile.
The pattering of steps behind you comes to a stop as Faruzan finally catches up exasperated at your impatience.
“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.”
The weight of his teal gaze shifted back on your frame after your late introduction, assessing the situation as you awaited his response.
“I see.” He nods while walking out from behind the desk, pulling out the chair in front of it.
The receptionist took her cue to leave the room, shutting the office door on the way out. The room now balanced with just one mortal and one immortal.
You paid no mind to his words as you settled down into the seat, after all, you’ve already read through them. Instead, your ears absorbed his timbre tone and smooth cadence. What a dangerously beautiful voice, it’s beckoning you towards the murkier waters.
“What are your demands?”
“Marry me.” Your lips blurted the truth out before shame got the chance to stop them.
Remember, the worst he could do is to show you the door.
–
In truth, you were preparing yourself to see the open palm of his large hand as he rejects your ridiculous proposal. Yet, here you were, still in his office. Sitting just across the expanse of his dark oak desk, all your documents scattered across it as Alhaitham’s pen guided across a form.
“What are the living arrangements you expect?” He doesn’t glance up from the paper.
“Mm… Would moving into your home be possible? Married couples usually live together.”
“That’s possible. Expectations for domestic and financial responsibilities?”
“I can’t work, so I don’t mind taking care of the house. But, I do want us to share some chores, so I don’t go insane.” You wonder if the ends of his lips would curl at your humor.
“I see.” The pen continues to record the sentences down on the form.
You kept the smile up despite the sting of failure.
“So… How much blood do vampires need?” Best to move on.
“It depends. Humans can give at most two pints of blood safely, and only once every two months.”
“You only need to feed once every two months?”
“Yes, would that be an issue?”
Lips parted, your next sentence dangles just off the tip of it. However, it seems that Alhaitham had already read them.
“Mortal medicine has no effect on our bodies.”
“Are there any restrictions on affection? Any personal boundaries?” You pivoted to another question.
The pen stops for a moment, his teal eyes shifting off the paper for just a brief moment as he evaluates numerous scenarios, or at least that’s what you think he’s doing.
“Deep kisses are not permitted.” Alhaitham’s teal eyes pierced straight into yours as he delivered the verdict.
It’s silly really, you really don’t have the right to demand an ounce of touch from him, you aren’t entitled to his personal space. However, something still made your stomach sink.
“Oh?... May I ask why?”
“There runs the risk of blood contamination through exchanging saliva, our incisors are quite sharp.”
Oh. You read between the lines he penned down. The most sacred law of this age, a time where mortals and immortals walk alongside each other: vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings.
He’s being precautious, after all the price he’d have to pay for a drop of his blood tainting yours is far greater than anything you could offer. Yet, the greed deep within you wouldn’t stay silent.
“Are closed-mouth kisses okay then?” Haggling the clauses like you were at a market stall.
Once more the pen stops as he contemplates your bargain.
“Yes.”
“The contract has been submitted to the legal department. If you pass the evaluation, it’ll be approved by the end of this month. I look forward to your cooperation.”
And with his disembodied voice over the phone, he accepts your proposal. Alhaitham agreed to play the role of your husband. The anticipation that weighed down your shoulders for the past three days was finally lifted. Hopefully he can’t hear your idiotic grin through the phone.
Success.
—
“No, I won’t accept this.” Dehya slams her glass down, unfazed by the glances from surrounding tables.
“Please reconsider your decision.” Candace gives you her disapproving gaze.
Shifting your eyes over to Nilou, poor sweet Nilou whose wide eyes could only convey the word ‘why?’. The interrogation after showing the ring to your dearest friends was much more intense than the evaluation you underwent to get the marriage approved.
However, it’s to be expected. After all, two of the people at this table were hunters. If anyone knew the true brutality vampires hold, it would be them.
Tapping on the screen of your phone to reveal the time. Of course, you won’t arrive at this negotiation unprepared. Glancing back up to face the counsel of your friends, a honeyed smile on your lips.
“Would you guys have the time to accompany me to a doctor’s visit?”
–
That took longer than you expected, walking out of the sliding glass doors which reflect the everchanging hues of dusk. The cause for this extended session at the Bimarstan was the numerous times your dearest guests made the poor doctor repeat your verdict.
Each time hoping that something different would leave his mouth. Peering up at the building across the street, you wonder if he’s getting ready to leave the house soon.
The closing of the automatic doors draws your attention back to the three figures who followed behind you. Pensiveness eyes downcasted as their minds continued to digest the events that have unfolded.
“Pfft! What’s with this atmosphere?” A giggle leaves your breath, it’s unbefitting for a gathering of friends.
“I won’t force you to attend my wedding if you don’t want to. However, I’ll be quite the lonely bride without any bridesmaids.” There was your honeyed smile again.
They could say no, they could beg you to drink the first poison offered by the doctors, they could ask you to give them more time, to give yourself more time. But they won’t. You knew they won’t.
Unlike you, they’re selfless and heedful, all your fortune in life must’ve been spent on finding such dear friends.
You’re the only selfish one.
There are many things you like about Alhaitham. Even excluding his excellent physique, his starlight hair and beryl-citrine eyes, he’s got the perfect traits of a life partner. He satisfies all the aspects of the ideal husband. Never leaving you wanting or hungry. You could list all his positive traits.
–
One, by simply holding out a hand, he’ll place his black card onto your awaiting palm. Not even batting an eye when you returned home from a ‘simple grocery run’ in a new set of clothes with the tags still on.
When you mentioned to him that a TV would look nice on the empty living room wall, he ordered one on the same day. How dreamy.
–
Two, he’s quite the interesting specimen.
“So, if someone were to douse you with blessed water, your flesh won’t burn?”
“No.”
Alhaitham humors your ridiculous inquires about his species, enlightening you to just how inaccurate those films and shows you loved were.
He even humors the trivial anniversaries, celebrations, and dates inspired by any recent dramas you fancied. The wedding was proof enough: he tolerates your fantasies.
–
Three, what you liked most of all: he’s too smart to ask redundant questions. After all, he’s read the files, he’s seen the diagnosis.
It’s not some secret that shall not be told, not a monster that shall not be named. Just like how there’s no point in telling someone the sky is blue, there’s nothing left to say about the doctor's notes.
No surprises, no sudden alarms, just the artificially sweet lull of domestic life.
–
Performing the part of a doting husband with such spectacular accuracy, you could almost mistake it as sincere.
You applaud the amount of skill it takes. However, costars are meant to bring out the best in each other, pushing one another past their thresholds for an excellent show.
The slightest blunders of lines and facial muscles couldn’t fool your expert gaze. It does take one to know one.
–
“Haitham,” you called out.
Setting down the two servings of biryani on the dinner table, the rich spices perfumed through the halls. It only takes one call for Alhaitham to come out from his library, halting for a second at the threshold of the kitchen before swiftly composing himself once more.
“Dinner is ready, it’s biryani tonight.” You gestured for him to take a seat, a smile ever present on your lips.
“Thank you.” He takes his place.
You take your place just across the table, wasting no time enjoying the fruit of labor after standing over a stove. Every grain of rice perfectly coated in the right amount of seasoning, just the correct level of richness. The recipe you followed online deserved its high rating, it’s delicious.
Traveling across the length of the dinner table, your leaden gaze landed upon the figure who has yet to touch his meal. That must’ve been enough for him to take his cue, bringing a spoon full into his mouth, chewing then shallowing.
“How is it?” Resting an elbow on the polished oak.
“You’ve worked hard on this dish, thank you.” He takes another bite.
Letting out a pleased hum, you released him from this scene. Turning your attention back to your own meal.
You’ll clear your plate in about twenty more bites, and he’ll continue to push the contents of his plate around once in a while faking a bite. Then after you’re finished, he’ll swiftly offer to clear the table and dishes, telling you to retire to the bedroom for rest.
A clever diversion from his ultimate goal of dumping your cooking into the trash. You’ve gone through this script for two years now.
It’s practically impossible to completely suppress one’s true intentions and instincts. Alhaitham can’t fully prevent the corners of his lips from down-turning every time you address him with that botched nickname.
He can’t entirely stop the sigh escaping his lips whenever you call for him to help with menial tasks, unbefitting for such a noble creature.
He can’t suppress the repulsive scrunch of his nose every time your cooking assaults his palate, the same reaction witnessed during the bi-monthly feeding sessions.
The same disgust he has of your blood, you thought mortal medicines has no effect on such beings, an oversight on his part.
He’s not as much of a mastermind as he might think, after all, he’s the one who allowed a piece of paper to be dangled over his head. Placing the power of clauses into the palm of your awaiting hand.
You tell him ‘jump’, and he’ll ask how high with disdain thinly veiled behind brilliant teal.
Humans are defined by their curiosity and greed, mortal hands always playing chicken with a boundary, testing how far they could go. You’re not special enough to be different.
Perhaps the only time he gets the advantage is when you bare your neck for him. Fangs hastily piercing skin, hands a bit too harsh around the neck. He wants it to hurt, you know.
Too bad, months spent at the hospital trained your tolerance to such sensations.
If life wants to entangle its fingers into your hair and cruelly tow you to and fro, why can’t you enjoy that same feeling? You’ll just grasp at any wisp of control, you’re a simple human after all. You’d even grasp onto death to stable yourself.
Mortal self-interest versus immortal apathy, what a disastrous harmony.
Ah, you slept a bit too long. Extended nap causing you to miss a scheduled cup of tea. Tapping a finger along the cool marble countertop you watched the kettle boil.
Frame resting against the counter, each tap against the marble was a futile attempt at distraction. Kalpalata Lotus’ effects can only last four hours, what a shame.
The steady rhythm of taps interrupted now and then by a pulse of pain as the leaves steeped. Starting deep within your core then crawling it’s up to your lungs like a shadow overtaking a frail flower.
This must be your warranted punishment for a transgression committed over the weekend. Dragging a creature of the night into the bright, unwelcoming sun all for a silly farmer’s market. Alhaitham’s slumped figure and worn tone were the cue.
You thought vampires weren’t like how the drama portrayed them, but perhaps there’s some truth, an oversight on your part.
You played chicken with that boundary and got burned, how will you soothe the wounds of guilt now?
Foregoing honey this time, you hastily swallowed the entire contents of the cup. No matter how fast you push the tea down your throat, no matter how many spoonfuls of honey you put into it: it’s unpalatable.
The herbal tang dried the inside of your mouth, yet the bitterness made your salivary glands go into overdrive. This is what purgatory is like, huh?
The chime of your ringtone snapped you back to reality. Glancing over at the screen: Candace. A call so late, she’s at work now, isn’t she?
Swiftly pushing down the bitterness that lingered, clearing your throat before accepting the call.
“Hello?”
“Good evening, how are you feeling, any discomfort?”
“Pfft! The diligent Candace gets on her phone during work just to check up on me? I’m swooned.” Your bell-like laughter made the pain worse as it rang through the empty house.
From the other side, you could pick up the faint giggle, you envision her fighting back a smile.
“Yes, yes. But more importantly, where are you now?”
“Home, why? Did you want to visit? I got some baklava.”
“Good, stay there.” There’s an instant switch to the mood.
“Mm?” You hummed, passively acknowledging the tension.
“Please stay inside. There’s a rouge vampire at large, hunters are scattered all throughout the city.”
Leaving you with a cliffhanger, she knew you’d want a taste of the details. You’ll bite.
“Oh? That serious, what did they do?”
“He turned his lover.”
Goosebumps ran up your neck in the perfectly tempered room. That vampire crossed the forbidden line in the sand, straight into the ocean of inevitable demise.
The most sacred rule results in the most miserable end. Once caught, his chest will be pierced with silver, heart torn from his body. She doesn’t need to detail those, you already knew.
“Oh?”
“His lover has been located, they’re receiving treatment, unsure of the status. However, you should tell your husband to be careful.”
“I should be saying that to you. Stay safe out there, he’s probably on his way back anyways.” Your eyes glanced at the clock, 11: 59 pm.
“Alright, I will. You should really rest, it’s so late.”
“Mm? Says you, Candace. Tell Dehya I said to stay out of trouble.”
She hums in response. Right after you chimed your farewell and right before she disconnected the call, you slipped in one more line.
“Please stay safe.” Addressed to no one person in particular.
–
The hands on the clock now read 3: 21 am, a fresh cup of tea now rested in between your hands. Eye reflecting back at you, still no message, not a single call. His voicemail now ingrained into your ears.
In an age where humans and vampires now live side by side, it’d be naive to believe that such arrangements are free from prejudice. After all, centuries of fear and hatred don’t just vanish into the air like the vapors of hot tea.
If a vampire is slain during a hunt, a creature unrelated to the true prey, oh well.
It was for the greater good, it was to maintain the peace, to ensure humanity’s safety. You’re not in the mood to debate such flimsy excuses.
–
It’s now 4: 34 am, the blushing hues of dawn were just about to creep through the curtains by the front door. Your legs begged for rest, your shoulders heavy, but you refused to leave your post.
Finally, the clink of keys slotting into place sang through the entranceway. The heavy oak door opens, you don’t need to study his expression, he’s disappointed to see you.
“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your command.
“I went drinking with coworkers.”
You know, you could smell it on him.
“Why didn’t you call beforehand?”
Alhaitham doesn’t bother to suppress his deep exhale, nor the downward tug at his lips. Disdain meets disappointment, eyes and frowns locked into a staredown as the hands of a clock kept time.
In the peripheral you spot warm orange chasing away the pink, clearing the way for the most brilliant star. Oh, it looks like your wound wasn’t soothed enough. You closed your eyes.
What went wrong with the script?
You.
It’s not selfishness, it’s plain immaturity. Immaturity breeds cruelty. The same immature cruelty of a curious child who ripped off the hypnotically beautiful wings of a butterfly.
Perhaps the corruption of your tissues has made its way into your personality, an unforeseen consequence of that herbal tea. Or maybe your transgressions were the influence of a green-eyed monster. Immortality gives him an overabundance of what you’re deprived of.
But it’s not his fault, it’s not an unseen monster’s fault, it’s your immaturity that’s ruining this performance.
This just won’t do. With the script going awry long ago, there’s no use in trying to follow it, the two of two should conserve your energy.
It’s best to rewrite it again, to say lines that’ll move the scene along in the right direction, to save this domestic drama. You’ll be the first to fold.
“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed.
Lids opening back up to catch his gaze again, restrained and artificially blank as always. Still, he’s got beautiful eyes.
“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.
Alhaitham knows that, so his lips remain still.
“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call, I got worried.”
Another deep exhale from him.
“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either. But if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text, so I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.”
The discoloration under your eyes, the slump of your heavy shoulders, and the unsteadiness of your knees. He’s observing them all, isn’t he? A pro-actor accesses the situation before deciding how to respond to an ad-lib.
“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers.
What a typical response for him, but maybe not so much for a husband.
“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know: ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised.
“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted.
You’ll suppress your giggles for now, this successful pivot of a dreadful scene caused a grin to break out on your face. One that reaches your eyes.
Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek, tying the ending together with repetition that’s now become a habit.
“Welcome home, Haitham.”
“Closed… for construction?...” Your eyes trailed across the bolded letters.
The grand garden was blocked off by iron gates and mossy stonewalls, path dimly lit by dull streetlamps.
It’s your third anniversary, to celebrate a new chapter, a reworked script, you planned this special itinerary. The Pardis Dhyai was the grandest garden in all of Sumeru, and they offered night tours. It was perfect, but it seems that you miscalculated.
“It’s negligence on their part for not having this notification on their website.” Alhaitham’s baritone voice draws you from your thoughts.
You must look so idiotic right now. Getting all dressed up and even coaxing him from the comfort of the house just to bring Alhaitham to a wall. You didn’t fight the slump of your shoulders, the fires of shame licked at your cheeks. You feel the weight of his teal eyes.
“The street market is open tonight, would you like to go there instead?”
What a good husband, stepping in to remedy his wife’s mistakes. Finally gathering the courage to connect with his gaze, you notice the faint twitch of his nose as a breeze passed by.
“Do you not like flowers?”
“Their fragrance is overbearing.”
Recalling the times you’ve shoved an excessive bouquet in front of his face during previous anniversaries, the familiar burn of guilt crept up your back. You just can’t do anything right tonight, huh?
“There’s no point in standing around.” He stretched out a hand towards you, palms waiting.
“... Heh, it’s a good thing it’s closed then huh, Haitham?” Placing your warm hand into his cold grasp, a meek smile stretches your lips.
Alhaitham hums in response, mercifully guiding you in the direction of the night market. As you walked along the dimly illuminated path, your eyes traveled back to the stonewall once more, its height towering even over your husband.
“I’ve never visited this place before… what a shame…” The comment slipped your tongue before you could bite it back.
Alhaitham promptly stops, turning back to glance between you and the mossy wall. The lullabies of crickets filled the nothingness, much like they did during the wedding night. The smile on your face grew tighter, he must think you’re whining.
“Woah??-”
Before you could conquer up a line to transition from this scene, Alhaitham had released your hand, only for his arms to hoist you off the ground.
Tender hold balancing you against his firm frame, you had to tilt your neck down to look at his face. Following the subtle motion of his head you looked in the same direction, eyes widening as realization dawned upon you.
The garden wall towered over the two of you, but as one, you were able to peer over the craggy barrier that once blocked your view. Wind blowing the floral fragrance over your face unobstructed.
“What do you see?” The deep vibrations of his chest resonate against your body.
There was no one here tonight. Just a husband and wife enjoying a moment so private, not even the moon dare intrude. Sweetness meddling with bitter guilt, crafting something bittersweet.
“Flowers…very beautiful flowers,” you answered, gazing beyond the stones.
“It’s a garden after all.”
“Pfft!”
The contrast between this gentle scene and his curt response pushes a laugh from your breath.
Patting his arm, you signaled for him to place you down, and carefully he follows your instruction. Once your feet touched the solid earth again, you pressed your face into his shoulder.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
“It’s our anniversary.” The justification of his actions.
“Of course… now let’s go, I want to try the samosas there!” The brightness returns back to your lips.
This time, you lead the way. Warm hands mingle with his cold ones, creating a comfortable temperature as you gallivanted along as one. Under the moonless sky, you told him your first true lie, a full lie.
–
How troublesome, you said you’d clean the library tonight. Looking around at the piles of books littered all throughout and the coating of dust. If only a nap didn’t eat away at the day, then maybe you wouldn’t be so pressed for time.
Oh well, rolling up your sleeves to begin your promised duty. No use in mulling over it, and no use in blaming the nap either. It’s to be expected, after all, tea time is now every three hours.
Alhaitham’s collection of books is nothing to scoff at, in fact, you’re willing to wager his collection rivals those of academic archives.
How long did it take for him to gather them? What criteria must they fit to catch his interest?
Small inquiries bloomed through your thoughts as each journal slid back into its rightful shelves.
It can’t be helped. Finally, after four years, you’re now allowed past the threshold of his library. The last corner of the house which was wholly his. You’re allowed a glimpse into his sanctuary. The exhilaration from this privilege was enough to outweigh the tediousness.
Eyes switching back and forth between the two covers currently in your hands. So focused on deciding between which shelves to place them your ears failed to pick up the poised footsteps coming your way. It took a pair of adamant hands on your shoulders to wake you from these thoughts
“Why weren’t you at the door?” A familiar baritone voice.
Oh, you weren’t mindful of the time at all. Meeting teal irises as you glanced back over a shoulder, not missing the ghost of a furrow between his brow. Alhaitham isn’t one who’s fond of deviations from a practiced script.
“Sorry, sorry I got caught up in these books.” You couldn’t help but giggle.
Placing the books back down and spinning around, cradling his face between your warm palms, you carefully placed a kiss on his cold lips.
“Welcome home, Haitham.” You whispered against them.
Alhaitham hummed as his eyes closed, savoring the sensation of your warmth transferring to him. How unbefitting of such a noble creature, melting into the touch of a mere mortal. What a beautiful view to witness, so lovely in fact, a certain phrase clawed its way to the tip of your tongue.
“I...” You waited for his brilliant beryl eyes to reveal themselves again.
The soft trills of crickets creep in through the window, a call back to a night when an executive decision was reached by both parties to remove necessary lines from the script.
“… wonder if you collect books in place of company.” You’ll heed their warning.
There was a sigh that filled the distance between you.
“They’re great stimulants for the mind, perhaps you should read some.” No hesitation in his sardonic counter to your playfulness.
“Pfft! Haitham, I can’t read half of these languages.”
It’ll be redundant to reinstate such words into a script that wasn’t written for it no? A part of you wonders if the quip was supposed to be a diversion from the faint downward pull of his lips.
The windows were cracked ajar allowing the crisp night breeze into the sanctuary of the bedroom, the new air circulating through helped push out the stuffiness. However, Summer was always too hot for you.
“Haitham.” Under the glow of a waxing moon, your hands reached out.
Soon, the cool cheeks of your husband settled into the space between your palms, taking away the excess heat. You brought him closer, allowing your foreheads to touch.
To never be bothered by the polar extremes of temperature, how nice it is to be born of the supernatural.
“Mmm… It’s been a while, aren’t you hungry?” You broke the comfortable silence.
“I’m fine.” Two firm arms pulled you closer.
His gray lashes were still shut, concealing away the teal stained with hints of scarlet. A tell-tale sign. It’s about five years too late for him to lie to you. Like a stubborn child refusing to take his medicine, where did the arrogant vampire go?
It’ll be best to change tactics, everything must have its fair compensation, a principle Alhaitham follows to its core. Sliding your hands away from his face and down along the contour of his body as your face rests into the crook of his neck.
“It’s really hot tonight.” Warm palms sneaking under the barrier of a shirt.
There’s a hiss that sounds next to your ear as two hands firmly grasp your hips. Emboldened by his reaction, your hands continued to explore his sculpted frame, icy skin stealing away the warmth that smothered you. Alhaitham’s fingers kneaded your hips in contemplation. Moving closer to his ear, your breath ghosted over them.
“Haitham, can you make it go away?” The final push.
A deep growl reverberated against his chest, a sign of his surrender to your whims. A gasp is knocked out of your lips as your back meets with the plush mattress. This time two icy palms traversed the sweltering outline of your skin, goosebumps trailing behind his every touch.
You hummed at the sensation as his hands travel further up, pushing the troublesome fabric of your shirt out of the way, exposing your soft breast to the air. A moan slipped off your tongue as Alhaitham gropes at the soft mounds, placing a kiss in the valley between them, cold fingers playing with the nipples now perked.
Wrapping your legs around his solid frame, your hands tugged at the shirt that blocked your view of his godly body. A silent whine for him to take it off, and like the good husband he is, Alhaitham complies. In return, your shirt was also stripped from your frame, a fair trade. Cheeks stained red from shame your mind was too muddled to process, you blame it on the heat.
More icy kisses trailed along your chest and neck, as cool fingers sneaked under the waistband of your shorts. His icy touches land straight against your puffy lips, labia glistening with slickness. You flinched at the sudden temperature change against your pussy, and his hand twitched at the small surprise.
“Wet already, and nothing underneath…” Alhaitham’s baritone voice reports his finding against your ear.
“Mmm,” you sounded out, shivering at the combination of his voice and teasing fingers.
“How lewd.”
“You don’t like it?”
Instantly, a stiff mass was pressed against the softness of your thighs.
“Do I seem displeased?”
Entangling your fingers into ashen locks, you let a giggle flutter your chest against his. Two hearts beating on opposite sides. Shorts pulled off the length of your legs and kicked to the side, leaving you bare underneath his mercy.
Rolling your hips against his cool palms to generate some friction, your clit begging for an ounce of attention. A quick slap against the sensitive bud jolts your body as you moan, a swift punishment for your impatience.
As if to soothe the lingering sting, his fingers circle the bundle causing your legs to shiver as pleasure runs up them. Your folds release more of their essence, Alhaitham’s fingers collect it, tracing your entrance with fleeting touches. The heat engulfing your body was beginning to become too much, your walls clenching around nothing desperately. Your legs pull him closer, attempting to spur on the tempo.
Your feeble strength is nothing against his, Alhaitham effortlessly pulls away from your trap. A whine left your throat as even his ashen locks freed themselves from your grasp.
“Shh, let me have a taste first.” He pulls you toward the edge of the bed.
Vascular hands gripping onto your thighs, spreading them open to allow him unobstructed access to your dripping greed. A firm hold denies you the opportunity to slither away from the cool breaths hitting your pussy lips.
Alhaitham’s tongue teases its way between your folds, collecting your escaped honey into his mouth as he releases a satisfied grunt. Licking stripes along your pussy, cool lips brushing against your sensitive clit. Your fingers found their way back to his silken locks, the back of your hand blocking your mouth.
Objecting against your cruel act of denying him the privilege of your moans, a finger was abruptly thrusted into your soaked walls with a squelch, causing your back to arch off the sheets. Hand no longer able to withhold the sinful sounds from his awaiting ears.
Another finger soon makes its way into your gummy walls, sliding to curl against that one spot deep within before sliding out and repeating. All the while his lips closed around your delicate bud, suckling and abusing it with his brutish tongue.
He was supposed to cool you down in this unbearable heat, yet your body only burned more under his ministration. Your walls desperately clenched down as your fingers tightened their hold on his ashen hair, trying to find any perch for your sanity to cling to.
Your actions only spurred him on, harsh sucks to your swollen clit and fingers increasing their pace. He wanted to ravish you wholly, to leave you a mess beyond saving. White flashes shoot up your trembling legs still held apart by his iron grip. If he continues then you might really fall beyond the grace of help.
“S-slower.”
Your slurred speech must’ve made your words incoherent, as Alhaitham only added more force behind his movements. Your slicked walls clenched around his fingers as they continued to pinpoint your weak spot, the messy licks and sucks at your clit causing the knot in your core to grow tighter and tighter. Or maybe your husband is just too famished to know mercy.
Back raising off the bed, no matter how hard your fingers cling onto his hair and the messy sheets you couldn’t stop the fall off the edge as your eyes saw the back of your head. A broken moan resounded through the room. Hopefully, it’s too late for anyone on a late-night stroll past the open window. Every fiber of your being shivering and nerve overwhelmed with hot flashes of pleasure. All the while Alhaitham’s tongue never stopped its torture.
Laying bonelessly upon the ruined sheets, hands limp by your side. Your chest heaves trying to remember how to breathe as a large figure looms over you. Your quivering pussy reluctantly released his fingers as a string of slick connected them.
Unfocused eyes watch as your husband’s tongue cleans the essences off, making sure to clean every inch.
You felt so empty inside, the heat between your legs only escalating as your walls clenched around nothing. Was it the heat or pleasure that’s melting your mind? You don’t know and were too desperate to care. You wanted relief from the heat and judging by the hard shape pressed into your thigh, he needed relief too.
Wordless your nimble fingers reached down, curling over the waistbands of his pants and boxers you pulled them down. Finally freeing his cock, it slaps against his naval as the leaking precum spears across his exposed skin. Playfully, your finger toys with his swollen tip, gathering up the precum as a hiss leaves his clenched teeth.
Making sure to look directly into his piercing eyes, you brought the finger into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the digit and then pulling it out from your lips with an audible pop.
Your shameless behavior earned you a guttural growl from Alhaitham, soon your hand was pinned above your head. His face was just inches away, the brilliant teal of eyes now wholly glazed over with crimson. Everyone is warned to never play with fire, but it’s just too addicting to resist.
“Brazen girl,” he snarls.
You countered with a grin, cheeks a deep red, but what’s there to hide from someone who’s laid you bare numerous times before?
Sucking in a gasp as his thick tip rubbed against your negligent folds, your leaking walls trembling with anticipation. Longing for the stretch only he could offer you.
“Beg.”
Of course, nothing ever comes easily when it comes to him. Self-control honed by years of experience, all held by the iron grip of his analytical mind. A battle you’ll never win, so it’s best to sacrifice your self-respect in favor of your aching pussy. A fool for pleasure, gone far beyond the point of saving.
“Please… I want you to ruin me… please ruin me.” Sinful words rolling off your tongue.
Words that finally snapped the last thread of self-restraint Alhaitham had, instantaneously his hips met yours. Your gummy walls, long ingrained in his shape, welcomed the familiar stretch, clamping down as a wet slap resounded through the room. Alhaitham pushed his cock in further, pinning your body deeper into the mattress, hissing at the heat that engulfed his length.
Your mouth falls open, pleasure shooting through overstimulated nerves, the bed creaking underneath you as his hips pulled away just to snap back. Setting a more punishing pace than usual, the bed shook in protest as your pussy welcomed each thrust, slick walls wrapping around his girth.
Moans flowed out of your mouth like how water flows through rivers, any semblance of embarrassment drowned out by molten pleasure. Two bodies connecting and mingling together to create a private heaven.
Alhaitham’s hand abandons its grip on your wrist in favor of getting more leverage on your hips, purple marks promising to appear in the morning.
Before your muddled mind could process it, icy lips crashed into your plush ones, a tongue crossed the line. Sloppy and hungry was how his mouth devoured yours. Tongues clashing and dancing as he shallows each moan of yours.
He pulls away momentarily as you took the opportunity to steal a few breaths. Scarlet-hazed eyes observe the transgression just committed before his lips moved back to reconnect with yours.
It’s clear he doesn’t give a damn about that arbitrary rule anymore. Why must forbidden acts always feel so good?
Free hands now found purchase on his broad back, nails digging into the smooth skin trying to balance out the onslaught of pleasure invading every fiber of your being. Legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the sheets with you never once interrupting his savage pace.
Your attempts at staving off your independent orgasm were futile, teary eyes rolling back as your walls clenched and your body shook.
Alhaitham released your lips in time to savor the broken symphony of a moan leaving your throat, the sheets underneath you a soaking mess, proof of your fall from cloud nine.
Despite this, your husband doesn’t slow down in the slightest. The sight in front of him only heightened the hunger in his eyes.
The solid oak bed frame swayed in time with the pistoning of his thrust, tight walls clamping down yet giving no resistance as his thick tip continued to bully that sweet spot. His chilly breath against your nape, tongue running a wet trail to prepare the area. Sensations your melted mind could barely register.
His fingers dig deeper into your hips as he pulls them flushed against his, thick cock pressing further into your wanton core.
A sharp prick shoots up your nape before the sensation of your walls being filled beyond capacity distracts from it. Your pussy pitifully attempts to suck in every last drop before succumbing, letting his essence join yours in making a mess of the sheets. Trembling hands run along his muscular back, pulling him closer to your heaving chest.
Your pants counted in time with the hands of a clock, shards of your sanity slowly returning to you as gulps moved down Alhaitham’s throat. With a satisfied sigh, his incisors released your neck, tongue lapping over the escaped drops of scarlet.
Slowly pulling away from your embrace, his untainted teal eyes scan over you. Hair fanned out behind you, chest still heaving, and cheeks still violently flushed. You must look absolutely ruined, just as you asked of him.
Carefully, he pulls out from your gummy walls, trembling walls allowed to gather their senses again. Detangling your legs from him with tender hands he repositions your droopy body comfortably along plush pillows.
Humming in gratitude as you rolled onto your stomach, face buried into the luxurious pillows which held his opulent scent. The aftermath of passion gradually faded away from recovering nerves. The space next to you dips down as his frame joins you, a cool hand resting along the curve of your back.
The soft sways of leaves in the night breeze, slowing pants, and the sweet lull of nothingness filled the air of this private haven. Two hearts, one mortal and one immortal, beating together.
“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence.
A hushed invitation slipped to you behind the watchful eyes of the divine. A lure towards deep waters by his beckoning voice.
Perhaps your curiosity has influenced him as well. All your innocent inquiries must’ve muddled the line, question after question brushing away at the definition until misunderstanding took its place.
This won’t do. Your time is too short and his time too precious to be wasted on miscommunication.
Since it was you who muddled the line, it shall be you who reestablishes it.
“I was born a human,” you began.
Pausing to enjoy the feeling of his cool fingers drawing unknown shapes into your back and the gentle vibrations of his hum.
“I will die as one.”
With those simple words, the line was once again clearly drawn in the sand.
Separating you from him, and him from you. Just as the laws of morals, nature, and this world dictated.
After all, it was you who said: “For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine”. Not the other way around. The price he’d have to pay is far greater than anything you’re willing to sacrifice.
No, you’re too selfish for that.
Under a waning moon, the market was lively tonight. Bright lanterns and stringed lights challenged the radiance of the sky’s stars. The twinkling momentarily distracts your mind from the cries of your muscles and the aches of your bones.
What a simple thing you are, or perhaps you’re just a human in the purest sense. So entranced by the beauty of a rose, it distracts from the sting of thorns.
Such drab comparisons have no place in your thoughts tonight.
As if to run away from them, your legs moved with volition, weaving in and out of the surges of crowds with clumsy grace, some haggling, some laughing, some yelling.
Glazing up at the moon above, it was as if she was following your every step, watching, judging the performance of this daydream.
It wasn’t long before the volition faded away as you slowed to a halt, lung greedily trying to hog all the air they could. A herbal scent found its way to your senses, a quick glance to your left confirms your suspicions.
It looks like your legs couldn’t carry you far enough in the end. Stopping right in front of a display of dried Kalpalata Lotuses, the moon must be laughing right now.
You weren’t sure which one tasted more bitter, the herb or the irony.
Straightening your posture back up, ready to push through the burn of your muscles once more before a cold grasp grounded you back into reality.
Whipping your head around, bewildered eyes connected with placid teal. There was a furrow in the brows that framed the hypnotic azure.
“Don’t go where my hand can’t reach.” Alhaitham’s atonal voice carried over the chatter of the streets.
Bringing your husband out of the house, only to then leave him alone in a sea of people. What a capricious wife you are.
Perhaps Alhaitham foresaw this exact situation, that’d explain the recent spike in his reclusiveness. Seeing this, a giggle bubbled up in your throat.
“Oh?~ Someone’s been watching my dramas. Where’d you learn that line from?”
As he sighs your giggles only increased, cold fingers loosening around your wrist.
“It’s exceptionally crowded tonight, be mindful of your surroundings.”
You simply nodded along, a sign to him that you’re only absorbing half of his words, another sigh from him and another giggle from you.
“A bag of Kalpalata Lotuses for the two of you tonight as well?” The vendor, ready with a fresh paper bag, intrudes on this raillery.
Your lips pressed into a thin line, silencing your giggles as your eyes trailed over the dulled hues of the dried herb.
Four hours went to three went to two and now down to one. Each cup becoming more and more unpalatable. There comes a point when a bucket can longer keep a sinking ship afloat, perhaps it’s better to gaze upon the starry night as one disappears under the waves.
“Actually… Padisarah tea tastes better, I want a bag of that instead.” A honeyed smile dawned upon your lips as you glazed back up at him.
Alhaitham parts his lips, a response ready to fall off his tongue, but he closes them just as swiftly. Returning a hum of acknowledgment at your request, handing over the mora in exchange for the bag of dried Padisarah.
Your attention has already shifted away from this scene, eyes avoiding the dull hues, finally landing upon wood carved with much creative liberty. There’s enough space for another sculpture no? It’d be nice to add more company to the home.
Before the muscles in your legs could budge, a hand twitched, reminding you of the loose hold still around your wrist.
A good partner should respect the wishes of their spouse. Warm fingers slide into the space between cold ones, intertwining like the lights above with the sky.
All it took was a soft tug for a human to move a vampire through the bustling crowd.
A common phrase uttered to unwell patients is ‘mind over body’.
However, there’s only so much the body can take before it rebels against the mastermind.
Even your own body had enough of your selfishness.
Protest taking the form of wheezes, lethargy, and that piercing ache forever present deep within. You were always the one to toe the line, pushing your luck to the limits and beyond, only stopped by a towering wall.
It’s time to lay rest under silken sheets and plush pillows. Something you’ve been doing very often these days. Perhaps your body is just practicing for the ending.
The cumbersome duvet fails to capture the wisps of warmth only a Sumerian Summer can offer, it fails to prevent the chill from penetrating deep into your every bone.
Dull senses alert you to a shift in weight on the mattress. Fighting against the leaden weight of your lids, you opened your eyes to the sight of your husband.
Ashen hair slightly trussed and button down wrinkled as his frame lays next to yours. He must have come here straight from the door, a once-practiced tradition slowly faded away much like strength from your limbs.
The muscles on his face relaxed, neutral by default, yet his eyes were downturned much like the corners of his lips.
Your husband must be deep in thought. His thumb is digging into his palm again, it seems that Alhaitham has developed a new habit. Hazy eyes carefully focused on how the nail threatened to break the surface of his palm.
That’s no good.
Ignoring the exhaustion, you slipped your fingers in between his, shielding his palm from the assaults of his thumb, settling into a gentle embrace as two rings clinked together.
The weight of a teal gaze centers on you.
“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice barely a whisper.
Chest protesting against your action with wheezes, but you needed to finish this script, it's what a co-star should do.
“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” Exposing your neck to him as your lashes fluttered shut, it was time to pay your dues.
Much like the clauses written on parchment signed by two names, the ending of this script must be followed, your body already taking its cue.
At least the doctors were accurate this time, how punctual your body is.
A brisk breath brushed against your nape, skin reacting with a trail of goosebumps as you feel the presence of sharp incisors draws near before grazing against your delicate neck. Your mind counts back, ready for the final pierce of pain to come.
Three… Two… The pressure of his fangs disappears from your skin. Replaced by the touch of gentle lips.
Opening your eyes with confusion and lost anticipation, you were met with stoic eyes.
“You don’t have to hold yourself back.”
“I’m not holding myself back,” Alhaitham answers without the slightest pause.
Your chest wheezes once more at your lung’s clumsy attempt at gathering a breath.
“What a silly vampire,” you giggled, the crimson hues were obvious even to your dimming vision.
After the numerous questions you asked and the innumerable answers he gave these past seven years, you still couldn’t fully comprehend him. Neither of you were the masterminds you thought you were, huh?
In the end, both of you were fools trying to perform a stage play.
Your mind ponders this revelation as Alhaitham tugs the covers up your body, gentle hand running along your body through the thick fabric barrier.
The faint ticks of a clock pull a buried secret from the guard sanctuary of your thoughts, dusting off the obscurity to reexamine the details in full clarity.
What was the end of the path like? Well, just like the scene blocked off by a garden wall under that moonless night, it’s all the same.
Maybe tonight you’ll tell him the truth.
What was over that wall? With its stones piled high and with moss creeping through its crevices, a wall that only creatures born within the grace of an undecided god could peer past. What did it conceal?
Nothing.
A nothingness so empty, ultimate peace could reside.
Seems like you’ve discovered something new in the end, you shameless fool. Death is nothingness in the end, a nothingness that fingers pass right through.
So instead of holding on to nothing, you’d rather grasp a cold hand as nothingness envelopes you. He didn’t seem to mind.
You wanted to tell this to the creature who humored your daydream for all these years. If he doesn’t want your blood then you could at least impart this priceless insight to him.
Oh, it’s such a shame that your tongue just won’t move anymore. Instead, you’ll offer him a smile. In hopes that Alhaitham could decrypt the curvature of your lips with his seven years of experience. To translate your silent message into a language known to man with his lifetimes of wisdom.
It’s all you could do to thank him for holding your hand as the dirge of Summer crickets fade out and the last first rays of a grieving sun kiss the horizon. The final wisp of warmth escaping down your cheek.
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.
1K notes
·
View notes