And Thou Art Dead, As Young and Fair

[Arabella Balfour]

Arabella was unclear precisely when it had happened, but her breathing had escalated from deep and ragged, to audible and obvious. She made note of it only as she caught the sound of her own rapid exhalations, each one increasing into a slightly higher moan than the last. The contrast between Byron's smooth, cold skin beneath her and her own igneous flesh was it's own delightful torment. She was coming undone fast. The only thing that could possibly have made her pleasure any greater would be..

A squeak escaped her as Byron snatched her up, burying his fangs in her throat. La petite mort, they called it. Those climactic moments that could be strong enough to overtake a person, on an almost spiritual level. They had no idea. Her legs locked around his hips. Her spine turned into clay beneath his touch, following the path of her neck backward in submission to whatever he chose to do to her in that moment. Pleasure ran like an electric current through her, buzzing through her bones, beginning at the place where Byron's fangs remained penetrating her skin. Her graceful fingers tangled into his hair, keeping him clutched to her throat, exactly where she wanted him.

She could not have said what words came spilling out from her in that moment. Promises that she would never again leave. That she would stay with him. Arabella meant every babbled word of it. She was done with being a ghoul. Done with having to alternate sources of blood just so that she didn't lose her mind and become dangerously obsessed with Byron. From where she stood, or sat as it were, she could not be more dangerously obsessed. It had been the promise of being reunited in heaven with her family that had always held her back, but having given it years of thought Arabella had come to a final realization. Her family had known her for twenty years of her mortal life. They had suggested, and allowed, her to ruin herself for their financial security and then cast her aside when they had been saved. Why the hell would she want to see them again? Her family was here with her. Byron. Gabrielle. The only family she required..

[Byron Legard]

Had he ever been this hungry? As a fledgling vampire, newly embraced, Byron had felt the desire to feed as a constant, maddening ache deep in his bones. Staggering from farm to farm, tearing the throats out of humans and animals alike, he’d known nothing but the need to find his next meal. Yet even now, in a position where he rarely wanted for blood, he was ravenous. It was as if he’d been drinking dirty water from the Seine for months, and now someone brought him the finest vintage in all of France.

The euphoria of what some Kindred called ‘the Kiss’ was such that Arabella would stay in Byron’s arms until he released her, even if that release was to her death. When Arabella’s hold on the back of his head began to weaken, he knew he had to stop. She would die if he did not stop. In a minute, just a minute more. Another minute of her trembling breaths, of her taste on his tongue, of the sublime rush of life and power -

With a gasp as if emerging from underwater, Byron tore himself away, teeth and chin smeared with blood.

[Arabella Balfour]

So weightless with euphoria was she, that Arabella would not have noticed had Byron drank every last bit of her up. She wouldn't have cared, in that moment in the least.

Feeling deliciously complaisant, she managed to realign her body, spine straightening gracefully once more, like a marionette being pulled upright. Her hands slid up Byron's chest curling around his neck, her thumbs stroking the column of his throat, just before she kissed him again bloody face and all. Wildness still pumped through her heart, it's beating had slowed considerably, but she did not mind. There was a strange contentment in being fed upon by Byron, a satisfaction in knowing that he wanted the taste of her.

[Byron Legard]

Awash with the heady rush of feeding, Byron sagged back against the couch with Arabella on top of him. Everywhere their bodies touched, his skin felt alive with overwhelming sensation. How much time had passed while they were consumed with and by each other? The sounds of conversation outside and the music in the rooms beneath them were gone now, leaving the hotel in silence.

With languid movements, Byron pulled the back of his hand across his blood-stained lips and licked what was left of Arabella’s blood from his fingers.

“What do you feel, ma louve?”

[Arabella Balfour]

What she felt was sated to her core, and yet as though she would never have enough of him. Slowly, one fingertip traced a serpentine path through the remaining trail of blood on Byron's chest, bringing the droplet to her tongue. From where she lay, curled against him Arabella glanced upward. A wolf was she? She grinned, yes that was her, Beauty and The Beast all rolled into one fancy package, she nipped him with her teeth to emphasize the point.

"Like I am precisely where I am meant to be.. home.", Bella answered honestly. "And I have a bothersome combination of pure lethargy, and also a desire to run off and do something crazy all at once. What do you suggest, my darling?"

[Byron Legard]

“Mm,” Byron smile, tipping his head back against the arm of the chaise lounge. The feeling that she had described was one he knew all too well. The afterglow of feeding, the sense of bone-deep satisfaction mingled with the explosive potential of expending all of that newly acquired vitality.

“We could take a walk around the city, howl from the top of the Notre Dame tower, or… go to Fountainbleu forest and you can show me how strong that Gangrel blood runs in your veins. Or something else entirely. You are my guest, Arabella. The choice is yours.”

[Arabella Balfour]

It was hard to bring to mind anything they could do that would be more satisfying than where Arabella found herself presently. There was no denying the facts as they were, that the ghoul in her was most intoxicated on his blood. Other kindred were capable of keeping her alive, prolonging her life, and her time with them had been pleasant enough, but only Byron made her feel like this. It was a singular phenominality that she had only ever found with him, which was precisely why it was so dangerous. Vitae being the source of her addiction, Byron Legard was without a doubt her drug of choice. Curled against him, she smiled besottedly, running her fingers through his unruly hair.

She loved him all the more for giving her a choice. It was not as if he had to. Enthralled as she was, had Byron suggested she jump into a volcano she'd have found it a clever way to get warm. The thought of going outside did sound appealing though. Arabella thought the feeling of the night air on her skin would be nice for a change, at the moment she was anything but cold. "Yes, let's take that walk. I have missed being home."

Home being wherever he was. She could find something crazy to do along the way, they had plenty of time.

[Byron Legard]

After a time, they managed to extract themselves from the chaise lounge and wandered down through the now deserted hotel. The few Kindred who remained were in the central courtyard, playing cards. They nodded to Byron as he passed, with one arm around Bella’s shoulders. From the hotel, it was a short walk along the narrow Rue de Fourcy to where the Pont Marie crossed the Seine. The bridge’s footpaths were almost empty, only a few scant shadows moving in the darkness.

Byron leant against the low, stone wall of the bridge, with the length of the river stretching out behind him, it’s dark water reflecting the light of the ornate lamp posts lining both banks.

“Where to? The city is yours.”

[Arabella Balfour]

Indeed it was not, it was his. Bella grinned anyway.

They might have been mistaken for any other pair of lovers, strolling about La Ville-Lumière, taking in the sights. All of which was a bit of a blur to Arabella presently. She rested easy with the knowledge that in time she would level out. For now though the only parts of the city that held any interest to her were whatever parts were important to him. If she listened carefully, she felt sure she would hear his name repeated in her heartbeat..

"Hmm, I do not know, mon coeur. Take me somewhere? Tell me a story I don't know?"

Close by, someone else drew her attention. Another couple, taking pictures. Laughing. Not doing anything unseemly, and yet.. "What do you think they would do if I suddenly chased after them?", she mused, partially considering it.