She stared at his handsome face. He was beautiful. Thick lashes framing his eyes, dark waves falling over his forehead. His body looked so strong but he looked so human right now. She felt remorse. Her heart felt like it was twisting. This was so messed up. Maybe this bond was real and maybe it wasn’t so terrible. She’d never had a connection like this before, ever. Nothing even close.
Obviously it had to do with his vampire powers but she dug back inside her memory, trying to feel how she’d felt last night before she tried to leave and wanted, desperately, to be back in that moment with him, that moment when he worshipped her body and called her Princess and stared at her like she was his princess.
When she was a little girl she’d dream that her life was a lot like being Rapunzel, trapped in her tower waiting for her Prince. She’d think about his rescuing her and whisking her away into the sunset and taking her to a place she belonged, not a place she was staying temporarily. He’d be perfect. Tall, dark, and handsome. With dimples. With blue eyes. With a white horse. And he’d say, ‘I’m here to save you, Princess. Now we can ride off into the sunset and I’ll spend my life giving you your happily ever after.’
But every man who’d been close to her or responsible for her had either left her, disappointed her deeply, or did something inappropriate and this had shattered her image of her prince and after that there was no prince charming in her dreams. With everything that had happened with every man who’d gotten close to her, she just couldn’t believe in her prince any more. She’d decided she could never rely on anyone to rescue her and that she’d never be a victim. She’d take care of herself.
She’d purposely avoided guys with blue eyes, even; feeling so betrayed by the fact that her prince never arrived.
Here she was with a prince, sort of. He was far from perfect but despite that, she wanted to reach out and touch his face right now. Her fingers tingled and she was about to reach for him but stopped when he opened his eyes, finally, and pulled the chain tighter into his grasp, as if she’d been about to get away.
“What?” he asked coldly, “Planning to stake me in the heart while I sleep?”
“I have to pee,” she said shyly, “I was willing you awake. Seeing if I could hypnotise you to open your eyes.”
He didn’t smile. He let go of her chain and reached into his jeans pocket for a key, which he handed to her.
“I wanted to take a shower, too,” she said softly.
He nodded and stared at the ceiling. His beautiful blue eyes were absolutely bloodshot. She unshackled herself, put the key on the nightstand, and walked to the bathroom.
Her body felt so battered that the water was like a tonic after a battle. She examined herself and found bite marks, scabs, hickies, and her ribs and thighs felt bruised, probably from being thrown over his shoulder during the supersonic whoosh from the woods back to the house. Her feet were filthy. She lathered up her hair and her body and stood under the hot water against the tiled wall for a long time.
What would today bring? She heard him say, “Stake me in the heart?” again in her mind. Was that another bit of vampire lore? She’d heard his heartbeat herself, felt hers beat in perfect time with it. Was he immortal or just as breakable as anyone? The idea of him breaking was surprisingly too painful to bear thinking about. She knew even after what had happened she couldn’t do anything violent to him, even though he clearly had no problem inflicting violence on her, or rather, unleashing it into her veins.
She was so confused at her feelings. She cried in the shower and stayed in there for a long time. She didn’t want to face him. Didn’t want to see him looking so cold and bitter after having seen and having felt the exact opposite. She didn’t know what the whole vampire legend thing meant. She didn’t think she wanted to know. She zigzagged between wanting away from here and wanting back in his good graces. She couldn’t stand the turmoil inside of her. And his repeated mysterious “it’s done” comments stirred something in her, something she couldn’t name.
After a long time in the shower she dried off and wrapped a towel around herself and then walked out and into the closet to get some clothes.
He wasn’t in the room. She felt a mixture of disappointment and relief. She dressed in a soft velour tracksuit, the kind of clothing she’d have chosen at home if she were sick and planning to stay in bed. She climbed back onto the bed and flopped.