A Mournful Anniversary (Absolutely Not Open)

by Aiden Sun May 15, 2011 2:01 am

He could feel her behind him; the way the soft curves of her body pressed up against his and the slow tingling pleasure that followed the heat of a delicate hand as it glided up over his back and down his shoulder. Fire erupted along his pale skin as the other hand slid around his waist, pulling him in tighter against her warm body. His head tilted back with the cascading sensations and he moaned at the tingling pleasure, hardly focusing at the words she was suddenly whispering in his ear. "Hold out your hands and close your eyes and I'll give you a big surprise."

"A big surprise eh?" His head tilted back further, exposing the pale flesh of his neck as his fathomless black eyes met and locked onto her brown ones. "Bet'cha it isn't bigger than the surprise I gave you last night!" Above those dark eyes the bright blonde eyebrows waggled suggestively.

"Ugh! You're such a pig Azreal!" BAP! The hand that had been caressing his arm had came up out of nowhere whacked him on the back of the head! Well it wasn't like he hadn't seen THAT one coming . . .

"Now close your eyes!"

"You know you love it." Chuckling he closed his eyes and stretched out his hands like the obedient boy he was . . . "This had better be worth it."

"It will be, now concentrate!" Concentrate? He had no time to ask because an object was being dropped and while he could not see it he heard the fizzling current as it passed through the glamour that was his hands as well as the dull thump it made when it landed on the floor.

THWHACK!

"Owwww! What was that for?!"

"I told you to concentrate!"

"You couldn't have just said 'catch' instead!?"

"I didn't think it was rocket science! Now shut up and catch!"

He gritted his teeth against the growl that was building in the back of his throat; she could be so aggravating at times! But this time he listened, concentrating on the sounds of her bending over to pick the object from the floor and focused as it was dropped again only this time there was no fizzle as he caught it in his hands. Ha-ha! He'd done it! The cocky grin came roaring back as he opened his eyes and looked down to find he was holding . . . "An apple?" Turning in her embrace he frowned, lifting the apple with hands that flickered in and out like a projection screen under the simple weight.

"Bite into it." She was looking at him expectantly, like a child waiting for praise for something they had accomplished. "I had it made special for you."

"Bite into - we already covered this! You know I cannot eat mortal foods. They're so tasteless and dull, not to mention they stick in my throat!" The cocky grin had faded away to the hint of a glare threatened by the edge of a temper boiling underneath. He hated these games of 'just try it, you'll like it!' every time it was some new foodstuff and every time it ended with him retching said foodstuff right back up. How could one apple be any different? He turned it carefully in his hands - it looked like an ordinary apple, bright red in color, and smelled like an regular apple so how special could it be?

"Do it for me, please?" Those beautiful brown eyes of hers turned doe-eyed and he knew he was sunk. Inwardly cursing the fact that he couldn't say no to that look, and she knew it, he brought the foul smelling thing up to his mouth and bit into it with a grimace.

... What. The. Hell?

Instead of the crunchy fruit it appeared on the outside he found his mouth full of blood! Warm, delicious blood dripping from the corners of his mouth and he hastened to swallow his mouthful before pulling the fruit away and gasping "What is this thing?"

Victory was all hers and she showed it in a mirror of his earlier grin back at him. "I told you it was special. It's a blood apple, the perfect disguise for vampires here! It looks like an ordinary apple on the outside but the inside is fresh blood. Don't you know what this means? You can stay here and not have to worry about starving all thanks to apples!"

Apples.
Apples.
Apples.

The word echoed incessantly in his head and distantly he could feel something sharp piercing his stomach but he had no mind to pay attention to it for he was suddenly falling . . .

THUMP! Groaning as he slowly moved to sit up Aiden cracked his eyes open to find himself surrounded in near perfect darkness save for the thin strip of light that shone under his closed door. His keen eyes pierced through the darkness, roaming over the impeccably neat room but there was nothing there. He was inside his room at the Tel'Rananemyn and he was alone. Sighing, he picked himself up off the floor and moved to sit back on the couch he'd just rolled off only to sit down upon something hard. What the? Rolling over he snatched the glass bottle from its spot on the couch and brought it closer to read the label.

Apple flavored liquor; he should have known. And now that he was aware of it he could taste the sickly sweet fragrance on his breath. It disgusted him and through the alcohol-induced haze that was clouding his mind he felt his stomach start to roll. The empty bottle went clattering to the floor as he staggeringly gained his feet and wobbled his way towards the bathroom.

Holy sweet hell below! Several minutes later of puking the aforementioned liquor, blood, and probably his guts up he slumped backwards against the bathroom floor, resting his head against the wall. Hours? Minutes? It all ticked by to the beat of time as he sat there though gradually he came aware of a sound penetrating through the dark. It started low at first, barely audible but gradually it grew in strength until the harsh laughter echoed off the walls of the bathroom. Pain erupted in his stomach and traveled upward with the burn of leftover bile but still he laughed on, doubling into it. "Hahahaha! What a day! Ha-haha!"

On and on and on some more and just when he thought his stomach would explode from the pain or his head from the echo the gears suddenly switched and the room echoed no more with the sounds of laughter but now the sound of tears. What a day indeed . . . The harsh sobs tore from his body like leaves falling from a tree and he was helpless to stop them. The image doe brown eyed woman from his dreams floated before his eyes and he reached a trembling hand towards her. "Ny . . I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry! You should be here instead of me. . We always said seven would be our lucky number, remember?" Words came tumbling out as fast as the tears as he slumped further down the wall until his head rested along the floor with the rest of him. Seven years. It seemed an impossibility. No, it seemed a lifetime and in a way it had been.

Seven years was not a long stretch of time in any measurement, least of all for a creature of his kind, but to one who had mourned for that long it could feel like an eternity and as the sobs began to slacken and die down he could agree. Emotions he was not good at, if this drunken display was any indication, and as exhaustion began to set in over his form he slowly lifted his left hand to gaze upon the simple silver band that rested there before lowering it again. "Happy Anniversary. . ."