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CHAPTER FIVE:
She's the One

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So here's the big romantic climax, guys! It was supposed to be the finale but I've extended the story one more chapter. Please keep in mind that this is an M-rated story! Ye be warned.

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GEORGE

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Her note was clear. She had given me a clear command – to meet her in our changing room – and a specific time. It was also emotionless. We hadn't looked at each other in the eye since the last full moon, hadn't feigned conversations in the elevator or joked at the hospital chairman's god-awful toupee.

What truly confused me was not the note. As I said, it was clear. What caught me off guard was the way she caressed my fingers as she slipped me the little piece of paper. I felt the spark then, perhaps the only time since her confession. Her words still echoed in my head.

"I… love… you…"

My poor heart buckled every time I thought about it. I propped the door open and waited for her. She slid inside precisely on time and shot me the kindest, smallest smile I'd seen all month. She sighed and placed her fists on her hips. I knew this stance well. She had come to some immovable decision. I sat on the remnants of the iron frame of an old bed and waited for her to speak.

"We can't keep doing this," she said in her commanding voice. Crap. She was serious. If she'd come to confess her never-ending love for me, I at least expected a few tears and a softer tone. But that wasn't like Nina. If she was going to be nice about something, she made sure I damn well knew she wasn't happy about it.

I might as well play along. "Doing what?"

"Okay, here's the deal, Dog Boy. I can't do this anymore. I can pretend to be angry about it. I can pretend I'm not afraid, but there'd be no point because every day you remind me of all the reasons I fell in love with you," she began but was forced to stop when her voice broke. I almost jumped, surprised by the by sudden burst of emotion. "I act like I don't notice but I see you with patients, with your friends… and as much as I know I should hate you for scarring me all over again, I also know that I want to be with you more than I want to be angry at you over something that I know was not your fault."

I gulped, trying to take in everything she was spurting out at record speeds. "Nina, sweetheart, I need you to breathe."

She laughed almost hysterically and raked her hands through her hair. She turning her back on me and I waited a moment, my eyebrows raised. When she turned back around, ready to rant all over again, I was standing an inch from her, staring her down with lustful eyes. I pressed my lips to hers, effectively shutting her up. She fought it for about half a second before she wrapped her arms around my neck and deepened the kiss.

I rose up for air a few minutes later and whispered, "I love you too."

She smiled, smacked me across the head, and kissed me again. "This isn't something small, Dog Boy. I mean it. I—"

"Move in with me," I offered, cutting her off. I didn't have the patience for another rant, not when she smelled so damn good.

She shook her head and took a step back, resting her hands on my chest. "Honey, compare where you live to where I live, then rethink the question."

"I'm moving in with you?" I asked, unsure.

She smirked. "Think it over, love. In the meantime, strip."

I paused for a moment, realizing what she meant. I looked down at my hospital scrubs. In all my nights wandering naked through the forest, I don't I'd ever been happier or quicker about shedding my clothes.

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ANNIE

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I cowered downstairs in the kitchen while Lee sat with Mitchell. George came in looking slightly cheerier than usual as he held another one of Nina's notes to his heart. I ran into him, wrapping my arms around him as I sobbed incoherently.

"Annie? Annie, what's happened?" he asked but I just ducked as the painting of the cow in the living room smashed against the TV. "Oh no! Annie, not the TV! Anything but the TV!"

More items started flowing about the room and he rushed us into the kitchen, smacking me across the face to snap me back to reality. "It's Mitchell!" I hissed as he shook my shoulders. "He's upstairs and I think he's dying. You need to do something!"

"Do what?" He was as hysterical as I was. "Has he been injured?"

I shook my head adamantly. "He's hungry, George," I answered clearly, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Shit…" he whispered and looked at the stairs. "Where's Lee? Is she up there with him?"

I nodded. "She brought him. She wants me… wants me to let him bite me."

"Didn't you already offer?" he asked, confused, beginning to head up the stairs.

I nodded. "He refused, George. He might as well have said he'd rather die than have me."

His wide eyes turned dark and narrow, coming to a realization I had yet to make. "Annie, you're hurting. You should be with him, not Lee. Forget about everything. I know he wants you."

I gulped. "He wants me? Or my blood?"

George bent down a little and held my face in his hands, his eyes fixed on mine. "He wants you. You should know that better than anyone. The way he looks at you… He doesn't smile around anyone else, love, not like that. Go on up. Take care of him, no matter what he says."

I shivered with fear but my hands clenched into fists. I slowly walked up the stairs and lingered outside his door. I shot a look at George at the bottom of the stairs and gained the last bit of courage I needed to put my hand on the knob. I went to turn it when I heard her scream. It was light, a scream of surprise rather than terror. It was followed by nervous laughter and I pushed in the door, already fuming.

There they were. In bed. They didn't even bother to lock the door or turn away or stop.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her arm extended out, with his lips on her wrist. A bloody knife slid off the sheets onto the floor and I jumped, gasping to keep the tears back. I covered my mouth with my hand but it was useless. Mitchell was staring right at me as he sucked Lee dry. She threw her head back and groaned and I felt like I had just walked in on some supremely intimate scene.

He let out a single tear then closed his eyes tight so he could continue without the scrutiny of my gaze. He wrapped an arm around her waist and rested her back onto the bed over his legs so she'd be comfortable.

I couldn't move. I didn't want to see it but I couldn't look away, like some horrific car accident. I started to sob, my hand still clasped painfully tight over my mouth. I felt two hands on my arm and I was being pulled away. It was George. He shut the door behind me, slammed it. I heard gasping inside and figured Mitchell had finally stopped and rose for air.

I had the image of him burnt into my head, his eyes dark and teeth bared like some animal as he sucked at Lee like she was the very old rag he'd warned me I'd become. She was putty in his hands, limp. I looked at George, realizing how hard it was for Mitchell to stop. My eyes told him everything, every fear. He opened the door and stormed inside to make sure Lee was still alive but his thundering footsteps were quickly silenced. Things started flying downstairs, everywhere.

I heard Lee's lighter steps coming towards the door and blinked away. I was suddenly in the kitchen, holding onto the fridge for strength. I expected her to go right past me but she didn't. She was holding onto her arm where a large cut was dripping blood onto her feet. She stopped before me and her eyes begged for help. I grabbed a clean dishtowel from the drawers beside me and applied pressure to her cut. She was just staring off as she did when something traumatic happened, the way she had disappeared into her mind when Mitchell first found her.

I helped her to the kitchen table and wet another towel, trying to stop the blood. "Don't worry," she finally whispered. "I'll be fine. I've had worse."

I knew she had been a toy to her brother's den of vampires but I didn't want to ask any questions. I knew Mitchell hadn't either. She didn't like to talk about it but, from time to time, she'd venture into the dark topic.

"I'm so sorry," she told me and my heart withered up. I was so horribly guilty that she'd had to relive that but it didn't seem to faze her as though she'd gotten used to being used. She was so much like Mitchell, so calm about the horrors of the world, that I felt even worse that I had ever been jealous. "It wasn't what it looked like. I know it can sometimes appear like more but it wasn't."

I nodded and pressed down harder. I didn't want to talk about this now so I changed the subject. "Do you need something for the cut? What do I do?"

"Some alcohol would be nice," she said. I nodded, made sure she had a good grip on that towel, and rushed upstairs to George's medicine cabinet. He was the only one who really needed healing, especially after unfortunate encounters in the woods. Dodging trees wasn't as easy as one might think, especially on four legs.

In the blink of an eye, I was back in the kitchen but Lee was over the sink, wiping away at the blood gently. Her eyes were blank. She took the bottle of rubbing alcohol from my hands and poured it over her arm. She winced lightly but I was the truly horrified one. If I could eat, I'd throw up in that moment.

I lingered back. "Doesn't that hurt?" I asked quietly, trying to watch and listen upstairs at the same time. Everything was quiet, too quiet.

She shrugged. "Every time. It's just another scar for the collection though. Not a big deal. He should be good for a few more months, as long as he takes it easy and avoids getting stabbed."

I chuckled but it came out as a weak, scratchy whimper. She looked back at me over her shoulder, her eyes tired and bruised like she hadn't slept in a bit. I thought Mitchell had said she was over her mourning period but maybe this was something else. Maybe it was an effect of the bite.

"Will he be—" I began but her fearsome eyes made me pause.

"I didn't think you'd be coming," she said. "I thought he was going to die. He'll be talking to your neck for a few days but at least the blood lust is gone for a while. If you're going to start feeding him, now is the time. He can control himself better when he's already had a taste. It won't hurt if you concentrate on something else. I dive into my paintings, all those beautiful, imaginary places. Try it."

With that, she handed me back the bloody towel and walked calmly back out into the streets on her way home, her job done. Mine was just beginning. I climbed the stairs slowly, terrified of what animal I'd find. I pushed in Mitchell's door and waited outside for some sign that it was safe for my heart to try again.

He was sitting on his bed, looking pensively to the wall where a window might be if his room had windows. He heard the creak of the door and his eyes flew to me. "Is she okay?" he asked, his voice a shadow of his cheery self.

I nodded and feigned a smile. I was so glad to see him… well, better. Fed. Whole.

He took in my harried appearance and continued, "Are we okay? I know what that looked like."

I tilted my head and smiled more genuinely. I didn't respond though. I stepped inside and crawled across the bed, to his side above the sheets. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and I rested my head on his. He sniffed my hair shamelessly, gripping me closer. The warmth started again, that unexplainable desire I'd never felt with anyone else. The humanity of it all was stifling.

"I'm sorry I didn't let you help," he whispered. "Lee told me you must have thought she and I were… something."

"I know." Though I didn't until that moment, not for sure.

"I promised myself I'd never let anyone do that to her again, or to you, and then it got too late and I thought I was dying and all my stupid plans got shot to hell. Annie, I'm so sorry you had to walk in on that."

I just rolled my eyes. I was tired of apologies and explanations. "Does it change anything, Mitchell?"

"You still want me to bite you? Even after seeing all that?"

I shrugged. "It looked… intimate."

He chuckled softly. "Your fascination with the horrific is beyond eerie. I heard what you said," he whispered, hiding his face in my hair. My eyes shot open. I went to deny things back and forth but he stopped me. "It's okay. It's all different now. We know why nobody's succeeded before. They die. I can't live without blood."

"Well I can't live without you!" I shouted. "If you heard what I said—"

"I won't try it again," he said in his sweetest voice. "I won't deny what I am anymore. I promise."

That quickly shut me up. We didn't try anything, didn't even try to move off the bed. We just lingered in each other's presence. George poked his head in since I'd left the door open, saw my head on Mitchell's shoulder – fully clothed – and visibly relaxed.

"I think I'll go make us some tea," he said calmly. He went to leave but stopped and turned back to us. "Oh! I forgot! Nina's asked me to move in with her. We just shagged on a filthy basement floor and I don't even care."

He let out a tiny giggle and went off like a giddy cartoon to make us tea. Mitchell and I straightened in bed, suddenly tense. It struck us suddenly what it meant. Not only had he decided that we would part with old traditions and barriers and misgivings about behavior… we'd be effectively living together. Alone. And a thousand new questions ran through my mind.

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MITCHELL

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It felt like there was a whole house standing between me and Annie. After George packed up his things and we helped him load it all into Nina's car, Annie and I just stood there on the porch, afraid to go inside. We faced the streets, our hands behind our backs as though afraid we couldn't control ourselves if we got inside. The sun was starting to annoy me so I took a deep breath and braved the quietness of the house.

Annie followed around dusk. I was sitting inside on the couch, afraid to go up to my room. She leaned up against the wall behind the TV and pursed her lips, watching me. I didn't let my attention wander to her beckoning eyes.

"Uhm… would you like some tea?" she asked. "Dinner, maybe? Well, not dinner, just… uh…"

She blushed and looked down at her feet. I chuckled because I hadn't even thought about blood since Lee saved me. "I'll just order a pizza, thanks," I answered and reached over for the phone. With a wave of her hand, the phone flew out of my grasp and into hers. She looked offended and I didn't understand why.

"Don't be ridiculous! Is my cooking so bad that you would order an entire pizza all for yourself?"

Was this an argument? It was hard to tell with Annie. She got downright violent over homeless puppies but only mildly offended during George's rants about her mug obsessions and midnight singing. "You know I love your cooking, Annie," I said in a droll voice. I couldn't believe that we'd been living together five minutes and already I was playing the bored husband. I'd technically lived with her over a year so I knew what I was expecting and how to respond to calm her down. "I would love some of that pasta you make. You know with the—"

"Ricotta cheese! " she squeaked, clapping with excitement. "I'll get right on it." She scurried off to the kitchen and, fifteen minutes later, I was enjoying the biggest plate of pasta I'd seen in years. She just sat there and watched me. I didn't question why she looked at me like that, only that there was love in her eyes.

I ate slowly because I knew it was late and I'd have to go to bed soon. When I'd finished and we'd cleared the table, I hadn't in me to try dessert. She made me some tea and then I stood and I heard her hold her breath. She looked away and held her mug in hand. I turned around at the base of the stairs and watched her get up to wash the mugs, her back to me.

"Aren't you coming?" I asked cautiously. Her hands froze and she let out that breath. "I'd like the company."

"I don't sleep," she reminded me in a low voice, looking up at me over her shoulder.

I smirked at her innocence. "I know. I just want… I nearly died, Annie. For the first time in a hundred years, I keep thinking I won't wake up. All I want is to see your face before I go, just in case."

She turned her attention back to the mug and whispered jaggedly, "I'll be up in a moment."

I slowly headed upstairs and showered. When I got out of the bathroom, she wasn't there yet. I sighed and climbed into bed, feeling a great pain on my joints. I knew it was just a heavy heart wearing down my body. I kept the light on for her, should she finally decide to come up and curled up on my side, clearing the left for her. I closed my eyes but I didn't sleep, waiting for her footsteps up the stairs.

I don't know how long it took her but she finally came up and my door creaked open. She took off her boots and slid in under the covers. She leaned over me and, probably thinking I was asleep, sighed and smoothed my hair back off my face. She kissed my cheek and said, "Goodnight, Mitchell. I'll be here when you wake. I promise."

For a whole week, it was so. She'd make me dinner, watch me eat, and I'd go up to bed. She'd wait a few minutes after my shower to climb in beside me and kiss me goodnight.

For that week, we were mostly silent around each other, sharing smiles and looks more than anything. Then, as though the icy wall between us had melted, we started talking again like George had never gone. She was lively again, vibrant. George visited her on days he didn't work and Lee passed by. God only knows what those two talked about. I never asked.

We spent Christmas alone, curled up under a sheet in the living room. I hadn't even tried to kiss her yet, which was mission. Then New Years came and I brought her to George and Nina's party. It was a sea of hospital people so we could slip away without any worry of detection, to the balcony overlooking the city. She gasped when she saw it and my hand wrapped around her waist naturally. She didn't even notice, already accustomed to my tiny, affectionate caresses.

The countdown sounded inside but she was too busy rambling about who-knows-what going down halfway across town. I just looked at her, waiting for her to notice I was there, that I wanted her. As the countdown drew closer to its end, she slowed her rant, feeling my eyes on her cheek. She laughed breathlessly and I took my chance. I turned her cheek and our lips met.

At first, it was awkward. We just stayed there, lip to lip, coming to terms with what was happening. Annie had told me she saw me as her eternal companion. She'd never said anything about wanting me physically the way I wanted her. Then, out of nowhere, her arm snaked around my neck and it was fireworks. I unleashed everything I'd been holding in all that time, all those nights when I had to feel the weight of her in bed next to me and do nothing.

Neither of us needed to breathe but we parted nonetheless, an instinct I suppose. We looked at each other, waiting for something to change but it never did. Only her new warmth, ever stronger.

"I'm sorry," she said automatically, covering her mouth. I burst out laughing.

"What the bloody hell could you possibly have to apologize for?" She shrugged, my hands moving up her back to press her closer to me. She went to speak but I figured it was my turn to let it all out. "Annie, I've wanted to kiss you for months, longer even."

"I'm sorry it took so long?" It was a question, not an answer.

I laughed and bent to kiss her neck. When I retreated to read her expression, I realized her eyes were huge and she was stuttering something. Did she think I was going to bite her? I laughed harder and rested my forehead on her shoulder.

She reached up to stroke my hair the way she knew I liked and we both relaxed after that. The first big milestone had passed and it looked like I wouldn't have to die a celibate monk after all.

We walked home together, hand in hand, and we went to bed together, hand in hand.

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I expected her to wake me every morning but, that day in February, she never did. I turned in bed and found her with her eyes closed, curled up facing me. She breathed evenly, serenely, and I knew she was dreaming. I held my breath, terrified of waking her. I had work in an hour but it didn't matter. I just wanted to watch her, wide-eyed, waiting for her to tell me absolutely everything she dreamed about.

George decided to check up on me, since I hadn't met him for work, and the phone woke her up. I cursed loudly and answered, "What the fuck is it?"

She gasped and looked around, disoriented. "Well someone's got a stick up his ass!" said George. "Where the hell are you, man? You were supposed to be here an hour ago!"

I groaned. "I was just—I'll be there in a second," I said and hung up rudely.

She looked me up and down. "What's wrong?" she asked.

I smiled and tossed the phone aside. I climbed back into bed and straddled her, too happy to care that she hadn't given me permission. "You, my dear, were sleeping. What did you see?"

"I… I don't remember. Guess that's best."

I nodded and kissed her. She giggled and deepened the kiss, pulling my body atop hers. She rolled us around and my hands started to pull back her usual gray sweater. She had so many freakin' layers! It's like they grew back or something because if I took off something, there was always something underneath.

She laughed when she noticed my furrowed brow, my level of concentration. She looked down, rolled her eyes, and pulled off everything in a single, swift motion. I gasped, marveling the sight of her bra for the very first time. She looked at me, silently daring me to take it all off.

"You should be at work," she said when I took too long.

I shook my head. "Screw work. God will forgive me." She reached back to remove the bra but I stopped her. "You sure?"

"Well, I have to warn you that it's been a while. By now, I'm sure they've changed a few things but I think I remember the mechanics of it."

I gulped, remembering my predicament. "I could bite you. I don't always have control."

"It's okay," she whispered, unsure. It was obvious. "I'll just float away somewhere if it's too much."

She might have been ready but I wasn't. She didn't know how truly uncontrollable I could get. It had been too long. I was getting hungry again. It wasn't safe to bite but my eyes were already dark and my fangs were only a kiss away.

"Want me to grab a knife downstairs?" she offered lightly. Lee had probably been talking to her about this.

I scoffed. "You really want to try this, don't you?"

"For the first time since we died, we don't have anything to lose, Mitchell," she said and all that uncertainty in her voice was suddenly gone. She slid off my pajama bottoms and positioned herself atop me. I held my breath, gritting my teeth as the animal threatened to unleash itself.

She bent over me to kiss my chest, unveiling her swan-like neck, and all hope was gone. I rolled us over and began to thrust inside her until she arched her back and called out my name. The lust was rising in my chest but I couldn't feel my arms anymore and the bed felt like it'd caught fire beneath my knees. I sat her up atop me and my hand went to push her curly hair aside, revealing her neck to me. I whimpered, begging her permission, but all I heard were the same melodic grunts in the background.

She doesn't care what you are or what you've done, I told myself. You can't kill her. She's the one. Let yourself have her. She's the one.

She screamed she loved me and I dug my teeth into her skin just as we both went over the edge.

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I decided to extend this story by one more chapter, coming tomorrow, if not after. Blame schoolwork.

Reviews are better than intimate moments.