Doomed from the Get-Go

Despite the girl's reluctance to accept his company, she moved her limb to better expose the wound on her wrist. Is it that hard to accept a compliment? He had ignored her comment until now, a huff escaping his closed jaws as he leaned in closer to study the wound harder. “If that’s your way of thanking me,” His gaze shifted from her wrist, trailing up her leg and following the curvature of her chest before it settled on her abdomen. There wasn’t much to see given their positioning, but his mind was quick to fill in the gaps. “Try harder.” The movement of his eyes was suggestive, and combined with the almost hungry expression on his face, he made what he wanted obvious. But perhaps she was just too naive, or completely uninterested, as she quickly shifted the conversation back to the problem at hand.

He huffed again, tongue pushing past his fangs to slide across his lips. He couldn’t help but be drawn towards the droplets of blood that wept from the punctures on her wrist. He wanted to taste it. “Put something on it.” He commanded, not waiting for her response before he suddenly pivoted to turn away from her. He attempted to press his shoulder against hers in that moment, wanting to slightly push her with his momentum, so she could feel his brawn against her smaller, more fragile body. If only for a moment. Then, he strode away, looking for the small white flowers with yellow centers that grew in clusters. He couldn’t exactly remember the name, but he knew they started with a c, and when chewed up could be put on wounds.

Using his sense of smell, and given that chamomile was a rather common herb, he found a cluster nearby and quickly dug it up. He returned to her side with the bundle in his mouth, and dropped it at her feet. “Chew it up.” He instructed, trying to lean towards her to invade her personal space. It felt natural to give her commands. Hell, it felt good even. Because it was something he was used to doing. And it felt even better when she heeded his commands.

”Speech”