Something I Can Never Have

By chasurozu

Francis's P.O.V.

My mom always told me that humans were disgusting creatures. That they were selfish beings, and could never be trusted because of that selfishness. She told me that they were only good for one thing—their blood—my food source; otherwise they were nasty things, and I was never allowed to converse with one of them unless I intended to kill and feed off of them. It's was enthralling, and most definitely interesting the way my mother had to convince me (and sometimes herself it seemed) how humans were such simple and ugly creatures.

And yet, even after her years of pushing the way of the vampire onto me and lecturing me with "humans are hideous" speeches: here I am talking to one, like one human would talk to another, or another vampire would talk to another. And he's the one who approached me actually, with a handsome smile and beautifully aligned white teeth. But that's not the only thing that caught my attention about this man; his skin tone and the long expanse of his peach neck, and the way his eyebrows were thicker but it fit him, in a way, and made his emerald eyes stand out that much more. He looked soft; so soft and so tempting. I immediately set out to buy him a drink. I ordered him a glass of watered-down scotch, as well as one for myself, but I never touched it. I merely drummed my fingers against the glass as we conversed.

He told me of his life. He had lived in England, and moved to France for business reasons; while in France he had met a beautiful woman, and he had fallen in love. They set out to get married after two years of dating. A few months later he told me his wife had got impregnated; she immediately asked to get an abortion, saying that she didn't want a baby at such a young age. She told him that the baby would ruin their lives. The man, an Englishman by the name of Arthur, refused to have the abortion. He didn't want to waste a human life on nothing. He told me he loved humans; that they were an intriguing yet ignorant species who only cared about surviving, and that was why they had survived for so long and will continue to survive despite the differences in the world. That's why he didn't want to waste even one life, because every single person deserved a chance to live their lives—they deserved a chance to survive.

I was interested in this man. He was the first human I have ever held a conversation with without the thought of sinking my fangs into their neck the entire time. I was sad to hear that his wife did get the abortion and they had got a divorce shortly after. I don't know why but I felt sympathy for him. I ordered him another drink and continued listening to him as he chatted on about life and humans.

I don't know what I had been planning when I asked him to come home with me, and, in his drunken haze he agreed to come with me willingly. It was strange. I knew everything about his life and his views, yet he knew nothing of mine and he was still willing to leave with me. I guess alcohol really does have a huge affect on the human mind.

But there was another problem: I had no intention of killing this man. He was as elegant and as beautiful as someone of my kind, and he had knowledge I had never seen in a human. He fascinated me! I wanted to hear more about his views; I wanted to see the world through his eyes and cherish every bit of life the way he did.

On our way to my house (which wasn't exactly my house because I was bringing him to a small apartment my mom had rented out for me to bring my food to, much like nights like this one) I had to hold him up by his arm because he kept stumbling and calling out to random passerby's across the street from us. They would either wave to us and laugh at his obvious drunkenness or sneer and keep walking onward. When he got tired of that he turned toward me and leaned against my arm, his whole body slumping while he pressed his cheek against my shoulder. He mumbled a few things I couldn't make out. And I glanced down at him to find him staring up at me, his green irises sparkling with an emotion I hadn't seen in a human before. I had seen the same look in my father's eyes when he feed—it was something akin to hunger and lust, yet there was something else there also; something I could never quite pinpoint. And before I could react, he pushed himself upward and pressed his lips between the crook of my jaw and my neck. My breath hitched and the skin beneath his mouth tingled pleasantly from the soft contact. I felt him smile against my skin before he moved lower on my neck and planted another kiss there.

I wanted to push him away, to tell him that I didn't think of this as a good idea, and either kill him then and there or send him off to his home. But I couldn't bring myself to say the words. My lips quavered as I continued to look down into those bright eyes. And I watched with amusement as his pink tongue darted out from between his teeth every now and then to wet his lips.

"I want you," he whispered. He pressed his face into my neck and leaned his weight against me in a way that forced me to stop walking all together. I gripped his arms tightly, pulling him closer to me as he continued to lay opened-mouth kisses along the length of my neck.

"We are almost there," I told him breathlessly. I removed my hands from his arms to push against his shoulders lightly. I give him a reassuring smile when he looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows. His eyes were doubtful and his lips were pursued into somewhat of a pout.

That night was one huge blur to me. I lead him to my house and watched as he stumbled over to my bed and fell back against it, his arms wide open and his eyes staring at me, waiting for me to come to him. I had never laid with a human (or a vampire at that.) I was still young in my vampire years, looking no more than twenty at the time. But I knew what to do. It's a form of instinct, is it not?

I walked over and pressed a hand against his stomach, pushing him against the sheets as I crawled on top of him, my gaze never leaving his. He was silent, watching me with a steady gaze as I removed his clothing piece by piece and ran my cold hands over his abs and chest. I wrapped my arms around his thin chest in a tight embrace; my arms locked around his body and I pulled him close to me so that my face was buried in the crease of his neck. I drew in his scent and let out a shaky breath.

I wanted it; I wanted it so bad that my veins felt like they were burning. My head was reeling, and my heart pounding much faster than I thought possible for someone like myself. He was oblivious to this fact, obviously, as he ran his fingers through my wavy blond tresses and thrust his hips up to met mine every now and then. I could feel his ache press against my hip bone with every upward movement he made. I pressed my lips against the side of his neck, a mere flicker of my lips against his flesh; so soft yet so sensitive at the same time.

I did it again. And again.

And I smiled as he tilted his head back, baring his neck to me. And then I leaned forward and sunk my teeth into that temptingly soft flesh.

This will be continued, folks! If you guys like it, that is, otherwise I might delete it.

After reading Anne Rice's "Interview With The Vampire" for the second time, I was inspired to write a vampire fiction. And, my goodness, Francis would make one sexy vampire, guys! No joke.

More dialog in later chapters, lol. I think there were two lines of dialog in this first chapter, which TOTALLY sucks balls. Also, my apologies for my lack of knowledge on the British dialect. I only know some words like "bollocks", "twat", "wanker", and "sod off" and etcetera. Mostly insults, haha. But I will try to make Arthur sound more 'British' I guess; but I'm not making any promises! so don't be disappointed if his dialect is... uh, inaccurate?

P.S. If there are any mistakes feel free to tell me. My grammar sucks, and I don't re-read what I write 75% of the time. I won't take any offense to it; it'll make me happier actually! K THNX BAI.

P.S.S. I would to hear from ya'll. Just sayin'.