He sat by the window, eyes trained on the ceiling. It's been weeks since he fed, he needed to feed, his body was in desperate need of it. This was the longest he has gone without eating, two weeks. His animalistic side was calling to him, reminding him that if he wasn't going to do it himself while in control, he'd lose control and still do it.
But he refused his primal urges, shutting his eyes to restrain himself, fighting a silent battle inside him. He was punishing him, he needed to feel redemption, to atone for his sins or so he believed. And starving himself was the greatest punishment. A guttural growl escaped his throat, the beast in him threatening to take control.
He had chosen to go on that stroll three days ago, to distract himself from the growing hunger and increased weakness. If not for the fact that he had to dive into the water to save that girl, he could have still had a little bit of energy and a lesser hunger to deal with. A scream from him boomed in the room, his hands latched onto his hair, attempting to help him fight his losing battle.
His smell was heightened, alerting him of the conversant smell of blood and sound of beating hearts. Everything tempting him to cure his hunger. He was sweating profusely, his breaths ragged, his lips were trembling and his fingers too. He was running a fever, his insides were twisting painfully. He doubled over, clutching onto his stomach in despair.
The door burst open and a young lady burst into the room. Her eyes widening when she took in his appearance. Stress veins bulging on his head and neck, showed her how much of pain he was in. She rushed to his side, hissing as her hands came in contact with his burning skin. She crouched in front of him, reaching her hands out, she grazed his cheeks softly, feeling nothing but sadness as to why he was punishing himself.
"Lucien, listen to me, this has gone on for long enough. I don't know why you insist on doing this, but you can't continue this any longer. You need to feed Lucien, you're tutoring yourself. Two weeks Lucien, you've done this for two weeks but you've gotten worse since that night you came back drenched. I tried to feed you but you refused, why?" Her eyes meet his obsidian ones, searching for answers only he held.
His eyes fluttered open, his breaths rapid,
"Giselle, you need to leave me alone right now." He growled out.
"No. I refuse to do that. I know you can hear my heartbeat and smell the blood coursing through my veins..." She held up her wrist and carefully brought it to her mouth. Elongating her canines, she dung them deep into her skin, till the blood flowed out furiously. She was tempting him.
"What are you doing?" He boomed, trying to resist the precious yet disgusting smell of blood. His fangs slowly came to sight and the obsidian staring down at the blood droplet gently glide across her skin and drop on her brown shirt. Lord, how badly he wanted it. Behave yourself, he screamed at himself mentally.
"I want you to feed. Go on Lucien, feed from me." She brought her wrist close to his nose, moving it across his nose, making sure to rub a little of her blood on the tip of his nose.
She wanted him to give in, to satisfy his primal urge to feed. She could see it in his eyes, the way his orbs followed every movement she made with her bleeding wrist. He closed his eyes, inhaling the tempting scent of blood. He didn't want to, not yet at least. He needed to feel more pain, maybe then Kieran would forgive him. Maybe beneath the whole pain would be the peace he's looking for. He paid attention to her beating heart, listening to the blood rush through her veins. Oh how badly he needed that blood in his system.
"You look awfully pale and sick Lucien, please drink and you'd feel better." Bringing her wrist close to his mouth, she smirked in satisfaction when she saw his canines elongate again after retracting before. His eyes now shining a dangerous red as he grabbed a hold of her hand and sunk his fangs into her bloodied wrist.
He sucked and sucked, closing his eyes to savour the feeling. His hunger was slowly fading away, with every greedy suck of her blood he took; he couldn't get enough. He kept drinking and drinking till he heard Giselle whimper. He snapped out of his frenzy to find a pale Giselle smiling weakly at him. She looked tired, drained and in pain. He could tell she was lightheaded, he had taken too much of her blood. He had been selfish and greedy again. "Fuck." He cursed himself for giving in and not controlling himself but he needed to tend to her first.
Catching her before she fell, he hugged her body against his chest and gently lowered her on his bed. Giselle might be a nobody, but to him, she was his very good friend. She was a lower class vampire, those called feed monguels. They were lower ranked vampires hired as alternatives for human blood. They couldn't control their hunger whenever it came, hence they always feed.
Vampires who had no access to human blood, usually fed on them because they're always full of blood. Giselle volunteered herself to him to be his feed monguel. It was better than being forcefully fed on by other higher ranked vampires who didn't care. Though it was a modern society, force still existed. Giselle was more friend to him than a feeding bottle.
Now he had to find food for Giselle. He needed to replace the amount he had taken from her. He carefully exited his room, making his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He always kept an emergency stash of blood bags in case Giselle wasn't available and he needed to eat.
Actually, he preferred to feed from the blood bags than Giselle but, blood from a living source was always more satisfying and healthier. He took two blood bags from his stash and carefully closed the secret compartment he had installed into the fridge.
Rushing back to Giselle, he carefully brought a blood bag to her nose, waiting for the smell of blood to wake her up. As expected, she came awake immediately and wasted no time in emptying the two blood bags.
Feeling better, she sat up, the colour returning to her face. She stared at Lucien who just sat next to her saying nothing and sighed. She was faced with his silence again, something she was long used to. She wanted to speak but had nothing to say.
He stared at the window, preferring to look at anything but her. He couldn't face her, not after what he had just done. Standing abruptly, he nodded in her direction and marched out of the room. His fast steps led him down the stairs and in front of his coat rack in no time. Taking his trench coat, he put it on and slipped out of the house. He went past the garden and followed the familiar path into the woods.
Leaves crumpled under his heavy steps as his long strides led him deeper into the woods. Finding himself standing in the middle of the woods, he sighed. Taking a look around the open space of greenery, he proceeded to take his coat off. Folding it neatly, he dropped it on a stomp he found seated by his left.
Taking deep breaths with eyes closed, he folded his hands behind him with a calm and composed demeanour. He opened his eyes, feeling the red flecks come alive in his grey eyes. The red was a part of his eyes that existed as part of the grey, appearing at the border of his black pupils, mixed to give an alluring appearance. The obsidian was just a temporary fixture when his animalistic side was fast surfacing. They were proof of his supernatural existence, the red a constant reminder of what he was.
With his eyes staring dead ahead into the open space, he let the screams of agony that has been torturing his troubled soul escape his parched throat. He pulled at his white hair, tugging at it while panting and gritting his teeth like a ferocious animal in pain. He dug his nails into his balled palm and screamed some more.
He was a monster, a monster who nearly sucked the life out of Giselle. Turning to the nearest tree, he began throwing punch after punch at it, anger flowing through every punch. He poured all the negative emotions through each punch and scream. Would it ever stop? Would he ever be less of the monster he didn't want to be?
He came to an abrupt stop, feeling satisfied. His deep breaths coming out as rapid pants, he closed his eyes to collect himself and regain poise. He stared around and back at the dented tree. Feeling his calm and composed demeanour return to him, he darted to the stomp and grabbed his coat, lying it on the crook of his arm. He began heading back in the familiar path that led to his house without further ado.
Arriving at the door of his house, he twisted the knob and slipped through the door. Taking precautions to not disturb Giselle, he quietly hung his coat. He has disturbed her enough. He proceeded up the stairs silently and into his room to get himself cleaned up.
"You had a mild scent on you when you came back three days ago." He heard Giselle say and stilled. He turned to find her standing by his door with arms crossed.
"You should be resting." Was all he said.
Her eyes trailed the man who said nothing in response to what she had said nor reacted like he had acknowledged what she had said. Her eyes fell on his bruised, red knuckles and questions she already knew the answers to flooded her mind like a wild impatient storm. She sighed as he turned his back on her and proceeded to rid himself of his shirt. His back flexed with every movement he made. His breathing was slow and gentle. She wasn't bothered much about his physical appearance because he was sure to heal in a couple minutes. His healing was at a faster rate than other vampires, even as a pureblood, his was abnormal. But whenever he slowed his feeding rate, he healed at a slower rate.
Silence took over the room with thick tension hovering above them. The only sound heard was his shoes colliding with the cold ground and his walk-in closet door sliding open. She sighed knowing that he was ignoring the subject and didn't want to push it further. She quietly excused herself, leaving him to his privacy. He wasn't in the mood to talk with her. He was ignoring her and she knew it.
He walked out with a towel in his hand and clothes laid in his other arm. He looked at the door to find an empty space. He sighed and went to close the door. He rested his back on the door and rubbed a hand across his face in frustration.
Of course he had an odd scent on him. Why wouldn't he when he had dived after that girl who was hell bent on ending her very existence? He let out an angry grunt as he marched down to the bathroom.
He has searched himself for answers, scouring every inch of his mind but alas, he found nothing to answer his storm of questions. Why did he save her? Why did he intervene? Why did he let himself come in contact with the girl? A human for that matter? Why? Why? Why? After all his years of abiding by his self-made rule of not interfering nor interacting with humans?
The thought alone was killing him. He stepped into the shower, turning the water to warm, it rained on him in droplets. He stood stock still, listening to the sound of water raining on him. Though he knew she wouldn't even know he had ever encountered her, a part of him still dreaded knowing he had touched a human.
Resting his head on the bathroom wall, he closed his eyes, trying to let his restless mind rest.
But something kept nagging at his soul that it wasn't going to be that easy to forget the whole unplanned ordeal.