Cassius lay restless on his bed, his body still but his mind was racing with his thoughts circled relentlessly around Lilian—the way her eyes, wild and free like a chestnut horse's mane, had drawn him in, how they shimmered with life, tempting him to lose himself in their depths. And then there were her lips. Plump, soft, and impossibly inviting. He could practically feel their warmth.
His chest tightened, his pulse quickened, and though he kept his eyes closed and remained still he felt as though he were on the edge of doing something he shouldn't. *Don't move, don't think too much*, he told himself. *If I let this go too far, I might not be able to stop.*
It wasn't a new feeling but it grew each day, making it harder and harder to ignore.
Suddenly, a faint knock shattered the silence, jolting Cassius upright. His mind instantly leapt to danger, and he grabbed his sword, storming to the door with unnerving speed. But as he flung it open, his chest tightened for an entirely different reason. It was Lilian.
She stood in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of her oil lamp, her nightgown barely clinging to her shoulder. Cassius froze, his breath catching in his throat. In the dim light, she looked more like a dream than reality—an ethereal vision that made his heart twist painfully in his chest.
"Lilian," he uttered her name but all other words were stuck in his throat.
"I-I had a nightmare," Lilian stammered, her voice small, vulnerable. Nothing like the boldness she had shown less than an hour earlier. "You said you rarely slept, so I thought…" She shifted nervously, her nightdress sliding further down her shoulder, exposing more of her smooth, bare skin. Cassius's eyes locked onto the golden lock of hair that had slipped onto her collarbone, and suddenly the air in the room felt too thick, too charged. Breathing was harder and harder.
His mind struggled to catch up with her words, his throat tightening with every second he failed to respond. "Ah… yes," he managed to mutter, his voice strained. Desperate for something—anything—to distract him from the unbearable pull towards his soulmate, he turned back toward his room, searching frantically for his nightgown.
Behind him, set her lamp on the sideboard and followed him a few steps behind. Lilian's soft giggle broke the silence. "I expected a coffin," she teased lightly, her eyes scanning the room.
Cassius forced a laugh, turning around too quickly and stumbling into her. Her face was now inches from his. The sudden closeness made his nerves flare with raw tension. "We don't rest in coffins," he blurted, trying to shake off the heat that had crept into his voice. "It's… rather ridiculous, honestly." He was babbling now, and he knew it. "Why would anyone want to rest in a coffin?"
Lilian smiled, clearly entertained by his awkwardness. "I don't know much about vampires," she admitted. "Not beyond what you've shared with me." Her voice had softened, her gaze lingering on his face longer than usual. "But indeed, resting in a coffin does not sound even remotely comfortable."
"Well… I do not think there are many vampires in the human realm. Most take refuge in Ironwood," he muttered, his own voice dropping. He could feel the weight of her nearness pulling at him, drawing him in like gravity.
"No," she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Which is a shame. I find you rather intriguing." Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and Cassius felt a rush of heat flood his body.
The room seemed to shrink as the space between them grew smaller. "Do you… have more questions?" he asked, his voice a rasp as he fought to maintain some semblance of control.
"Trillions," Lilian replied, her gaze intense. She hesitated before asking, "How does your skin feel? Is it always cold? Is it smooth?"
Cassius swallowed hard. Hesitantly, he reached out, taking her hand in his. Her warmth surged through him, and for a brief moment, he let himself savour the sensation, the contrast between her warm skin and his cool touch.
"Does your heart beat?" she whispered. Her eyes widened in an excitement alike that of a scientist that made a groundbreaking discovery. Without answering, Cassius guided her hand to his chest that was under a white blouse, letting her feel the stillness there, the silence that separated him from humanity.
Lilian's breath hitched. "Does that mean… you can't feel?" Her voice was soft, unsure, as though she were afraid of the answer. A worry flashed through her pretty face.
"My emotions aren't tied to my heart," Cassius said, his voice rough with the effort to keep himself in check. Her touch, though simple, was unraveling him.
"Fascinating," Lilian whispered, her hand sliding from his chest to his cheek, her thumb brushing across his cold skin. The intimacy of the gesture sent a shiver through Cassius, though he remained as still as stone.
"You're… cold," she said with a breathy laugh, her cheeks flushing. "But your skin is so smooth and soft. It reminds me of cool linen on the warm summer day."
Cassius winced slightly. "That sounds… unpleasant," he murmured, unsure how to interpret her words.
"No," Lilian corrected softly, shaking her head. "It's… pleasant. Exceptionally so." Her eyes flickered down to his lips, and Cassius's breath caught again, his restraint hanging by a thread.
"Are my fangs… unsettling?" he asked quietly.
Lilian's gaze softened, and she shook her head again. "No." The answer was stern. "I did wonder though," she hesitated, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red. "Do they get in the way… when you kiss?"
Cassius froze, his eyes wide as her question crashed into him like a wave. He had no words, just the stark realisation that this conversation had taken a turn he wasn't prepared for but which he dreamt of for the past month. "I… I don't know," he confessed, his voice barely audible. "I've never kissed anyone."
Lilian's eyes searched his for a moment before she, without warning, stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.
Cassius's entire world tilted. For a heartbeat, he was too stunned to respond, his mind racing, but then he gave in, closing his eyes and allowing himself to get lost in the softness of her kiss, the warmth that spread through him like fire. It was nowhere close to what he could ever imagine.
But Lilian pulled back too quickly, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she muttered, stepping away as though she regretted what she'd done.
Cassius stared at her, his mind reeling. "And?" he asked, his voice breathless and unsure. "Were they… unpleasant?" He asked, worried that his fangs were what repulsed Lilian.
Lilian bit her lip, her embarrassment fading into a shy smile. "No," she said softly. "Not unpleasant at all." She paused before adding, "In fact, it made the kiss feel… more intimate."
Something inside Cassius snapped. Without thinking, he surged forward, capturing her lips again in a kiss that was no longer tentative, but hungry, passionate. Lilian responded instantly, her body pressing into his as their lips moved together with increasing fervour. His hands found her shoulders, tracing the line of her skin, and before he could stop himself, he pushed her nightgown off the other shoulder, watching as it slid down her arms, stopping by her elbows.
But just as the moment became too much, too real, Cassius jolted awake.
He sat up in his bed, breathless and disoriented. The room was empty. It had been a dream—a dream so vivid, so intense, it left him trembling.