Title: Lost for Words
Fandom: Young Dracula
Characters: Ingrid Dracula, Will Clarke
Pairing: Ingrid/Will
Rating: K+
Summary: A moment between Will and Ingrid. Do vampires sparkle?
Young Dracula ---
Who's got the touch to calm a storm inside?
Don't say goodbye - don't say goodbye
In the final seconds - who's gonna save ya?
'Alive and Kicking', Simple Minds
Young Dracula ---
"Oi, Ingrid!"
Ingrid Dracula carried on studying the film listings board, gritting her teeth. Will was - well, she loved her breather boyfriend (although if she had her way, he wouldn't be breathing much longer) - but he was irritatingly boyish at times.
"Oi. Ingrid?"
"I don't answer to 'oi'," she replied in her best Princess of Darkness tones. "If you want someone to 'oi' at, I suggest you get a dog. Or a... pig, or something." Something you can eat afterwards, she nearly added, but Will wasn't to know about that. Not yet. "I'm your girlfriend, Will."
"Hey, I know that," Will said apologetically, coming over and wrapping his arms around her waist. She was struck by the fact that he didn't see her attempt to rival the Count's level of haughtiness as a big deal. He didn't seem to see anything she did as a big deal, come to that.
Maybe it's time to break out the snakes with flick-knives...
"I was just, like, trying to get your attention. New Moon's still on. What'd you reckon?"
"Are you serious?" Ingrid turned from his embrace to glare at the human - she certainly wasn't going to look up at him. "Sparkly vampires? Sorry, have I stepped into Stokely Infants School by mistake?" She deliberately made the next part dripping with venom. "Or have you stepped out of it?"
"I'm not from Stokely, Ingrid..." Will murmured, suddenly every inch the grinning, curly-haired stranger come to whisk her away from Count Dracu-loser and her maggotbrain of a brother...
She shook him off. "I was just kidding, all right?" Breather slang. Urgh.
"So," Will said, maddeningly calm, "how about it?"
"What?"
"New Moon." "Will Clarke - "
"I could be an Edward... " He swirled his hand in hers, those damned beautiful eyes glinting in the cinema's fluorescents. "To your Bella."
"I don't think so."
"Aw, come on, Ingrid! Would've thought you'd be into those books." He grinned. "With the whole deadly thing going on." He punctuated the word deadly with one flick of a perfect eyebrow. "Which I love, Ingrid. Really, I do."
While she was still fighting herself for a moment of happiness, he gently took her other hand, drawing her into a vaguely secluded corner behind the sweet dispensers.
"Hey, Ingrid... " Damn him, damn him, damn him! "Hey - not 'oi'. See what I'll do for you?"
Swapped a two-letter word for a three-letter one? Yeah, that's a lot, breather.
Now, if I can get my mouth to say that...
"Ingrid." Oh, say my name again! "Do you sparkle?"
She felt absolutely nothing for a second, blank, shocked - and then just pure, overwhelming relief. He knew. He'd guessed, somehow. And he wasn't running away, or screaming, or dragging Van Helsing out from behind the popcorn counter, or -
"'Cause I'd love to meet a girl who sparkled." And the crack in her heart deepened a little more. "Vampire Bella and human Edward. D'you think their story would have turned out differently?"
Oh, Will...
"Hey," he added, gazing anxiously into her face, "I haven't upset you, have I? I didn't mean it about like, a vampire being better, Ingrid. You know - you're the only girl for me."
We're too young, she thought desperately, I'm not ready, I want to taste his blood, this isn't safe -
Then Will was kissing her and her lips fought to press back, to kiss him as softly and tenderly as he was. Ah, one little movement and her fangs could just pierce his lip, ever so slightly, so sweet and tangy and too near her sixteenth birthday for Will to be in anything other than mortal danger -
She wrenched herself away, turning so her hair hid her face, biting her own lip to keep back the angry tears. Draculas didn't cry. Ever. But then, they didn't generally fall in love with stinking breathers, either...
Will - seemingly as lost for words as she was - ran a hand down her cheek. It was a rough boy's touch, at odds to his intentions, and she was about to run until she could cry in peace, when he lightly, gently touched his arm around her shoulders and raised a finger.
She peeked from behind her curtain of hair despite himself, and the harsh light illuminated a single teardrop glistening on his square-cut fingernail. His face was all concern and affection, not awkwardness, although she bet the other girls he dated didn't start crying outside the cinema.
He didn't kiss her, respecting her need for space right now. Instead, he only pressed that finger to her pale cheek. Giving back her tear.
"See?" he whispered, gently. "You do sparkle, Ingrid."
---
Finis