She was inside, just as Harry expected her to be. She was also wide awake.
Standing over by the window and looking out as sunlight streamed in through the glass (which had Harry wondering if she really was a vampire. Weren't they supposed to be vulnerable to sunlight?) was the girl he had rescued.
The first thing his ocular senses decided to register was that her clothes, if such a definition could be applied to what she was wearing, were about as close to indecent as you could possibly get while still keeping all the necessities covered.
A pair of slinky black shorts covered her bottom, but did absolutely nothing to disguise how her small, firm and shapely her derriere truly was. It also did nothing to mask her long, lean and shapely legs that were currently on full display for Harry's underage eyes. Up top was a camisole, a sleeveless undergarment for women that normally extended to the waist.
This one did not.
Extending only to the mid riff, exposing her back enough that Harry could see the supple muscles hidden under her pale flesh, the camisole in question was black chiffon over stunning leavers of lace and silk. It was very sheer, translucent enough for Harry to see through most of it quite easily. The fact that her milky white skin contrasted greatly with the black of the camisole did absolutely nothing to help mask her skin from him. Harry could see quite clearly the flesh underneath her clothing.
Then she turned around and, for some reason he could not even begin to fathom, Harry felt himself sucking in a sharp intake of breath.
He had stared into this face many times in the past two days. Even if he had not, he had already committed every single detail of her face to memory. Or so he thought. What he was seeing now left him questioning whether or not this was the same girl he had rescued from those mercenaries exactly two and a half days ago.
Her face was just as flawless and pale as he remembered. She still had that very princess-esque look he had seen when they first met. But those were the only similarities he could see between this girl and the one he had saved from certain death.
Her eyes, those silvery blue orbs that glowed with an unearthly luminescence were staring at him with a half lidded gaze, piercing him, devouring him. Harry had often been told he had very piercing eyes. How when he looked at people, it was like he was looking right through them. This was similar, yet different. Oh so very different. Harry did not feel like this girl was piercing him, but that she was stripping him with her gaze.
That gaze sent a tingle through his spine all the way down to his toes that was strangely pleasant yet utterly terrifying at the same time for reasons he could not fathom.
Her lips, those pouty, dark red cupid bow lips had curved into a delicate smirk that made his legs feel strangely like jelly. It was a most unpleasant feeling, but at the same time, Harry could not help but think he could stare at those lips for the rest of his life.
He wondered how something as simple as a smirk could have so much power over him.
"So you are the one who saved me from those Vatican goons," she spoke in English, surprisingly. It was heavily accented. Harry recognized it as Italian. Blaise's mother had a slight Italian accent.
Harry would have spoken, he should have spoken, but for some reason his mind was not working right now. He didn't know why. He didn't, but he wished he did, because that meant all he could do at the moment was nod like some kind of idiot.
"Hmm..."
The sound of oddly sensual thought snapped his mind to the present to see the girl was beginning to walk towards him. Harry, had his mind been working, probably would have run the moment he saw the girl begin walking, no, stalking towards him like some kind of apex predator. Well, she was a vampire. They counted as that, didn't they? In either case, while Harry's rational mind would have most likely told him to run in this situation, it was currently not working properly. It felt like someone had disconnected his logical thinking processes from the rest of his body.
"You are much younger than I had expected."
Such was his stunned state that he did not even react when she mentioned his age. She was standing right next to him now, his enhanced nose picked up her natural scent, a very pleasant smell that his olfactory senses could not properly identify but found... mouthwatering(?) nonetheless. Her strange smirk that had him feeling things he had never felt before growing just a bit as she raised her left hand.
Harry felt a strange shudder pass through his body as she cupped his cheek. Her hand was surprisingly warm (weren't vampires supposed to be cold due to lack of blood running through their vains? Then again, sunlight didn't effect her so perhaps conventional vampire knowledge really was just that inaccurate.) and very pleasant. Against his will, Harry found himself leaning into her touch.
"But then, that just makes what you did even more heroic," she continued. There was something strange about her voice, something that, like the rest of her so far, Harry could not identify. It seemed to speak to the more primal side of him, his more animalistic side. Her voice spoke of enticement, promising unfathomable pleasure with each word that passed through her lips.
Harry found his other cheek being cupped by another delicate and soft hand, moving his face and forcing him to make eye contact with the girl.
Killing curse green eyes met glowing silvery blue. The girl's smile had not changed, but there was something else about it that Harry could not figure out.
It would come to him in time, but not until he was older.
"My name is Selene Gallio Dracul," she told him, smiling. "And I am forever in your debt, my young hero."
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