Vampires Will Never Hurt You

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Vampires Will Never Hurt You Empty Vampires Will Never Hurt You

Post by Wolfy on Sat Mar 22, 2014 8:43 pm

I stepped over the threshold before my brother, who had allowed me to stroll in first so that he could carry in the rest of the equipment he and his friends would be needing tonight. Feeling a little out of place; the boys were gathered around the living room, organising all the wires and whatnot. I stood there in silence, leaning up against the door frame that led out into the hallway where they had been only moments before. My arms were folded, in a protective manner, over my chest as I watched the group prepare for another eventful night.

As I glanced between each of them, however, I noticed someone of great importance was missing. Where he was, I did not know. Without their front man to lend his vocals this evening, how could they possibly begin their practice? Surely one of them had noticed he was not around as they were setting up amps. Apparently not. Shrugging, I took a step or two into the room and braced myself for a tongue lashing from my brother for interrupting their zone. Every time, though, I would simply roll my eyes in response and toss him the bird if he continued to give me even a small amount of trouble for asking a simple question.

“Uh, guys...?” I spoke up, earning the attention of every one of them as their heads shot up to acknowledge my presence and whatever I was about to say. “Where's your lead singer?”

All at once, there was movement from each of them as they looked around the room to see if he was actually missing and I was not just playing pranks out of boredom. I had to give them credit; I had done that many times in the past and it had become a broken record almost. But no, not this time. This time, he was actually nowhere to be seen and before I could even think about saying I told you so, Bob snapped his fingers to capture my attention and told me to scamper off and find the poor guy before he did it himself. I knew, somehow, if he was the one to go and fetch him, the ebony haired vocalist wouldn't know what hit him or how to react quickly enough.

“Fine, but only because you're a horrible little shit and you'd probably traumatise the guy, if I didn't go for you” I retorted, stomping into the dark hallway to locate the stairs.

Once I managed to find them without breaking my neck, the journey upward would prove just as difficult. Not every step was stable and many times, during our routine visits, I had fallen through a select number of holes in some of them. I cursed aloud as I ascended, though no one could hear me now. My vision was met with nothing but pitch black and my stomach flipped. It was amazing that I was able to put one foot in front of the other and step up without breaking my neck. I thought for a moment about all those times I had feared the dark as a child and suddenly, all those worries flooded my head. My breathing quickened and my heart rate increased. For a few seconds, I stopped, gripped the banister and closed my eyes to calm my nerves.

Perhaps a song would help ease all of my troubles — I was doubtful, but it was worth a shot.

Late dawns and early sunsets, just like my favourite scenes
Then holding hands and life was perfect, just like upon the screen
And the whole time while always giving
Counting your face among the living

My voice rose above the level at which my heart had begun to pound in a rhythmic manner against my chest and within minutes, relief washed over me. Those words; that song, there wasn't anything quite as calming. It brought all of my nightmares to a grinding halt and I smiled, inwardly as well as allowing my emotions to appear on my usual unresponsive expression. Again, I continued up the staircase until I reached the top, bouncing down onto the top stair as though I had just completed a ridiculously lengthy marathon and was ultimately proud of myself.

Now that I was upstairs, all I had to do was hunt around in the dark again. Joyous. There wasn't anything as wonderful as feeling your way around someone else's house with absolutely no idea of who or what you might bump into. When we were all kids, we would spend night after night at each others houses, sharing the most frightful of ghost stories in an attempt to keep everyone awake through the entire sleepover. Most of the time, it worked.

I steadied my breathing, closing my eyes briefly once more and began to sing another verse.

Running away and hiding with you
I never thought they'd get me here
Not knowing you'd change from just one bite
I fought them all off just to hold you close and tight

Again, I smiled as the final word rolled off of my tongue, but as my eyes opened slowly, there was a figure standing before me. Not directly in front of me so I was able to make out who it was, but leaning against a nearby door; their outline was clearly visible to my eyes. My breath hitched in my throat as I ran through all the plausible explanations and then I realised, it was obviously the person I had come searching for. Noticing this, I regained control over my frail nerves and took a step toward him, then another, squinting my eyes and reaching out one hand toward the shadow as it remained still. Why was he not moving, or talking, for that matter?

“Uh.. Gerard?” I broke the silence, another step shortly followed the uncertainty in my voice.

But does anyone notice?
But does anyone care?
And if I had the guts to put this to your head
But would anything matter, if you're already dead?
And well should I be shocked now, by the last thing you said?
Before I pull this trigger
Your eyes vacant and stained

“Um..” I stumbled over my words, realising he had just extended his vocals toward me and recited the verse that followed my last brave attempt at singing, though I believed no one had heard. “Gerard, your brother and friends are looking for you.. why are you hiding up here?”

A low grunt sounded through the dark, empty space between us as he remained draped against the door and I kept my distance. Though I had been moving forward, I chose to stop the second he opened his mouth and sang his own song back at me. The lump that had formed in my throat earlier returned and I felt as small as a mouse.

“I need to hide, Clover” he stated, stepping away from the door and pushing it open, indicating I should step inside first so that he may follow. I was a little hesitant, but had known Gerard since we were only children and knew he would never put me in harms way, if he could help it. “—you could never understand what I go through. Night is torture for me.”

Stepping into his bedroom, I stopped halfway and waited for him to close the door, turn on the light and explain all of these mysterious disappearing acts. More so, why he had chosen to tell me in the privacy of his room and why, I had now noticed, he was locking the door to prevent anyone else from coming in. My body froze momentarily, that lurching motion felt in the pit of my stomach as his footsteps circled me. I spun around, almost losing my balance as I did so, my eyes darting around in every direction until I could decipher his whereabouts.

“Gera...” I started, only to find my speech impaired, my sudden inability to talk evident as I struggled, but could not find the words to say. It was as though they had vanished, right along with my fearlessness. Whatever game he was playing, it was certainly not amusing. “Gerard Arthur Way — you turn on the damn light and stop being such a creep this instant!”

A chuckle entered my ear and instinctively, I raised my hands up to push him away, figuring he was standing right beside me now. He was, but I was by no means quick enough to retaliate as he gripped both my wrists to stop the attack. That brief, though entertained laughter, was no longer present at all in the air around us. The entire atmosphere altered, leaving me feeling numb to my core and unsure of what was going to happen next. Hallows Eve was miles off yet; what the hell did he think he was doing?

“G..” again, I opened my mouth to offer up an onslaught of vulgar insults, but his own clamped down over mine in the blink of an eye.

Noticing that he still held my wrists and I wasn't able to touch him, I whined into the kiss and tried in vain to free myself from his vice like grip. His strength had always given him the upper hand whenever we fought over something and now, it was no different. Still, I maintained that I still had a small amount of dignity left and wanted the use of my hands to make him pay for scaring me half to death just to steal a kiss.

Without much thought as to what the consequences of my actions might be, I bit down harshly on his lower lip and received an angered growl in response. Immediately, he released his hold on me and my hands flew up into his flowing, ebony locks. But, he had ceased all contact and instead, was nursing his wounded flesh with a very distracting tongue. My eyes danced, following every movement it made and a dizziness entered my head. It was faint, however; not enough to stop me from remaining where I was as opposed to fleeing from the room.

I leaned toward him, slowly, waiting on his reaction to my movement and noticed he only moved back the nearer I got. At this, a huge frown appeared on my face — a knowing grin on his.

“I have a deep, dark secret” he shared, pressing the palms of his hands against the wall on either side of my head and lunging in for a kiss, which I was able to dodge in no time. “... But I would rather show you what that secret is” he added, taking advantage of my exposed neck.

With every kiss and nip he tormented me with, I struggled to keep every sound buried and instead, tried to give him some kind of response to what he had just told me. For him to confide in me like that, even if he was merely playing around, meant something. I recalled the very first time I had turned to him with something that had kept hidden for a very long time; he had been there for me and offered to lend a hand whenever I deemed it was necessary. He had always been true to his word, but over recent months, he appeared somewhat different.

“Then.. what are you waiting for, Gerard?” I encouraged him, pushing for him to continue telling me what this big secret was, so that we might be free from this room and could join the rest of his band mates downstairs. Already, he was running way  too late.

No sooner had I spoken those words — something pierced the side of my neck, just an inch or so above my shoulder and though I wanted terribly to scream out to maybe endure the pain, I could not. Gerard had sealed my lips with the palm of one hand, his free arm wrapped firmly around my waist as he pulled me closer to him. My head was drooping back slightly against the wall, but my stomach was crushed against his own as he held me tightly, unwilling to let go.

“Ge..rard..” I moaned, a sound of displeasure that seemed to echo around the room.

Finally, he pulled away from my neck, his eyes boring into mine. I took the time to gather myself, my eyes darting downward slightly to catch sight of the scarlet liquid coating his lower lip and unbeknownst to myself, I winced. Seeing my discomfort, he pulled me closer again and this time, after having wiped the blood clean of his lips with that distracting tongue, claimed another kiss.

“You.. you're a.. vampire?” I asked, unsure of my wording and confused, not believing such beings to have existed, until now.

All he gave me in return was a slight nod of the head, his kisses trailing over every inch of my face he could reach as I ensnared him with a miniature rant on how that was not possible, how he had been simply avoiding practice because he was a lazy git and somewhere during my jumbled madness, I managed to confess my undying adoration of him, at which I felt him smile against my skin; my cheeks flaming when it dawned on me what I had said.

“I.. I mean, uh.. never mind” I mumbled, trying to make sense of everything that was happening.

“Clover..” he spoke, gripping my chin between his thumb and forefinger so I could not deter my gaze from his own, though I did not wish to. “—Be mine?”

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Post by Maggie on Sat Mar 22, 2014 11:58 pm

Vampires Will Never Hurt You Blancheoverheating

Woa! Can I just say that this may just be the hottest/spine tingliest bit I've ever graced my eyes upon? I loved it! I felt like I was right there with her. Please please please tell me Clover told him yes. Early Sunsets Over Monroeville is one of my favorites and I could hug you I swear. Forgive me for asking but will there be a continuation of this? I do believe I've got a favorite undead couple (only next to Helene and Lestat) ;)Wonderful work!

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Post by Wolfy on Sun Mar 23, 2014 8:35 am

Oh wow, I wasn't expecting much love for this story! I'm so glad to see you do like it — more so that you want a continuation! I hadn't thought of expanding it as it was supposed to be just a little one shot to get back into the swing of things, but this has given me such a boost. I'll be adding further parts to this, starting with another update at some point today. I had no idea you loved that song ^^ it's one of my favourites, too. Thank you so much for sharing what you think! I could hug you right now and never let go!  I love you

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Post by Wolfy on Mon Mar 24, 2014 11:01 am

I felt extremely lethargic the morning after; my head was thumping lightly in response to the bright sunlight peaking through the curtains. Rubbing my eyes did not help any, but it had to be done, in order for me to properly decode the room and find my way out. Images flashed through my head of what happened the day before and panic struck me. I bolted upright, holding my hand over my heart to check it was still beating. A small breath of relief passed through my lips as I examined the room. It was not mine, but one of the spare rooms belonging to the Way's.

A little puzzled but feeling a great deal better knowing I was still alive, not undead, I stumbled across the room and out into the hall. The house was silent, void of life almost. Rather than think everyone had left already to go about doing their own thing, I decided they were all still sleeping and the elder Way's had yet to return home from their weekend trip. Perhaps — I should cook up a small breakfast for all the guys. They must have had quite a practice last night, providing Gerard had made his way downstairs, that is. And then, at the thought of my ebony haired friend, my hand flew up to the side of my neck, but there was nothing there. Again, I sighed, relieved. It was all just a bad dream. But then, where and when had I actually fallen asleep after arriving yesterday? And who, bless their hearts, had carried me up those dangerous stairs?

Nothing was making any sense to me as I stood, leaning against the kitchen counter and debating on what they might like to eat whenever they decided to rise. I had no idea of the time, but even if the food went cold, re-heating everything was not a problem. Besides, I thought that might taste a little better anyway. With a small smile, I bounced over to the refrigerator and the cupboards and pulled out a handful of things I would need. The list included, but was not limited to: Eggs, Tomatoes, Bacon, Sausages, Bread, Beans and Pancakes.

After setting everything down on the counter in front of me, I stood there for a moment tapping my foot, wondering where to start. I had gone back to my roots and opted to cook the boys a full English breakfast for all the hard work they might have put in the day before. To say I was just as hungry would be an understatement and so, there was indeed plenty to go around.

The better half of an hour had been spent frying and flipping all the food until there were six plates filled to the edges; almost spilling over the sides and onto the counter. To someone who had not eaten much of anything in weeks, it would look more than a little inviting. And I knew, those boys had been dedicating all of their free time toward the music they made. The most they had been eating lately didn't really qualify as a good meal and I wondered where they found the energy to perform as they did, so often, running only on the sugar they found in pound sweets and multiple bars of fruit and nut chocolate from the local store.

“Look alive, sunshine” came a voice I knew all too well as I turned, just in time to catch Frank, literally, sliding in wearing a pair of knee length socks and trying to pull off his best Risky Business impression. Of course, he failed and landed on his ass, but it was funny all the same. “I meant for that to happen—“ he stammered, pulling himself up and skipping over to me.

As he peered over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of what obviously smelt so good to him, I watched as a huge grin spread on his tired face. He slipped his arms casually around my middle and gave me a short squeeze and peck on the cheek, before bounding over to the table and plonking himself down. In a way, he resembled a small child with that cheesy smile and impatient posture as he awaited his first meal of the day. I had to stifle a laugh as I picked up one of the plates and carried it over, complete with a knife, fork and napkin for any bean sauce that might escape whilst he ate.

Frank dug in straight away and with a mouth full of food, complimented my cooking skills and offered a thumbs up. I laughed heartily and went to pour him a fresh glass of orange, setting it down on the table and taking a seat across from him. For some reason, I felt a wave of sadness creep over me and figured it had a lot to do with the poor intake of food the guys had bothered with over recent months. Time and time again, I would pull them up over it but they'd simply wave their hands as though it wasn't really that big of a deal and I should quit worrying.

“Frank... how long has it been since you had a decent meal?” I asked, propping my chin atop my
hand and watching him with a smile.

“Um—“ he began, thinking long and hard about how he could answer that question, knowing full well I might berate him for not eating properly. “A couple months.. I mean, we have been eating, C. It's just, there's not really any time to sit down and actually have a good meal, you know? We're always so busy practising and writing and stuff.”

“Hmph..” I mumbled something incoherent but chose to drop the subject quickly, not wanting to drag his mood down given that he seemed awfully chirpy this morning. “Okay, I understand.”

After that, all he did was beam at me as he finished the remaining few beans on his plate, then drank half the glass of orange in one go. My brow rose at the sight, but it was only amusing to watch. The poor guy was practically glowing now, having eaten something filling.

“That was beautiful, C —thank you” he said, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with the napkin and placing his empty plate into the sink across the kitchen. “You should cook more often, you're very good at it. Hell, why don't you come live with me? I could use that every morning.”

“Oh.. I don't know about that, Frankie boy. I wouldn't trust sleeping in the same vicinity as you; you know? I don't think any girl who wanted to keep her dignity intact would” I answered, sticking my tongue out in response to his playful pouty face. “I can cook something for you whenever you like, though. All you have to do is ask” I added, watching his pout turn into a grin as he sped out of the kitchen.

The only sound I could hear after that was a string of curses and many thumps and bangs; he must have fallen a couple dozen times as he bolted up those damn stairs. Now along and with just one dish to wash, I decided to dig into my own breakfast and wait for the other guys to wake up. I'd no doubt all the commotion Frank had made would have them up and about in no time. Unless they slept like the dead — which was a ridiculously entertaining thought. Gerard, though. I found my thoughts swerving back to him and the nightmare I had the night before. Now he was someone who could sleep like the dead; nothing could ever wake him when we were younger.

As I took a seat at the table with my own breakfast, fork ready to stab the fried egg until it poured out into the bean sauce, footsteps climbing down the stairs caught my attention. My ears perked up, but my attention remained, for the most part, on my food. I balanced the yolk of the egg on my fork and almost got the whole thing inside my mouth when an unclothed Mikey rounded the corner, wearing only his boxer shorts, which left little to the imagination.

“Oh shit— Mikey.. get the hell up those stairs and put something on, damn it!” I yelled, dropping my fork into the beans and splattering my clean, white shirt with an orange smudge. “Oh.. of all the...” I snapped, scrubbing furiously at the stain that had embedded itself before I could even think about reacting.

As further clumsy footsteps went upstairs, I heard a few more curses and bumps. Despite my now piss-poor mood, I couldn't help but laugh. Someone really had to do something to mend those steps before a broken neck occurred. The holes were impossible to see because there was actually a thin slot of wood covering each of them. The Way's had the right idea, but hadn't thought about the consequences of not nailing the wood down so it was one with everything else.

I shook my head and decided I would do something to help with that, no later than today. I didn't much like the idea of hanging around here if falling down the stairs was a given. “You guys are absolutely hopeless, do you realise this?!” I yelled, hoping at least one of them would hear me.

“I swear, if I was your guardian, so many things would change in this house and you wouldn't have a choice but to follow through with the rules. Just you wait.. one day.. someone is going to have an accident and you won't know what the hell to do.. and you'll never blame yourself, because god no.. you boys don't know the meaning of guilt.”

Midway through my miniature rant, as I continued to try and remove the bean sauce from my shirt, I had failed to notice the company in the kitchen with me. Or rather, the small group standing in the doorway. I turned fully to go yell at them some more from the bottom of the stairs, only to find each of them wide awake, arms folded over their chests, looking at me with a “And..?” look about their faces. Pouting seemed the thing to do, but all I could manage was a grimace.

“Forget it” I mumbled, stomping by them to go clean up in the bathroom, figuring a small bit of soap might help get rid of this mess. “Do what you will —I can't stop you.”

“Oh and..” I added, stopping on the first step to call out to them, though they all turned to listen anyway, all traces of amusement evident still in their expressions, but I shrugged it off. “Enjoy your breakfast; don't leave it till it goes cold.” And with that, I carefully marked out my footing as I climbed the creaking, dangerous stairs.

Like the day before, there was someone missing from the group but I didn't give much thought to it this time around. I was still a little unsure of everything that happened yesterday and not knowing whether it was just a horrible nightmare, or reality, made me nervous. As I stepped into the bathroom, I banished all those thoughts and focused on scrubbing at the stain with a tiny bar of soap and noticing immediately how it did help some. Only problem now was, my shirt had a rather large wet patch and was very cold against my skin; something I did not want on such a freezing cold day. Perhaps one of the guys would let me borrow their shirt, just for the day.

“Urgh..” I complained, dropping the soap back into the sink of warm water and glaring at my reflection in the mirror. This was no way to start my day and I knew that, but the smallest of things would often disrupt my zen moods, particularly if it was early on in the day. “Why must these things happen to me....”

“You can borrow one of my shirts, if you like” someone spoke up, as I looked toward the door through the mirror and noticed it was now closed. But, I couldn't see anyone else in here.

“Oh.. ha ha.. very funny, open the door and let me out, Gerard” I called, not all that amused by his antics after suffering the little kitchen incident a few minutes ago. “Gerard?” I hesitated, still watching the door through the mirror and hoping it was him, or at least one of the guys.

Just as I decided to turn around, head for the door and complain to whoever was on the other side, a hand slipped slowly around my waist and I froze in place. My eyes bored into the mirror, but the only reflection I could see was my own and as I found the courage to look down at the hand now resting delicately on my stomach, I knew who it was. I had been right; it was Gerard, but where was he? Of course, my brain fought to understand how he was behind me, touching me,  yet not casting a reflection in the mirror. Shock wound up coating my features and I shook, violently, slowly turning and hoping I would come face to face with him. To find out I could have been imagining the scenario would be more frightening than finding him there.

“Clover — why are you shaking?” he asked, his head tilting a few inches to one side as our eyes finally met. The hand he had placed on my stomach, now rested at the small of my back.

“Have you been toying with that mirror...?” I question, brows furrowing.

“Ah” he breathed, seemingly understanding now why I was reacting in such a way. He looked wounded for a moment, opening his mouth to offer up an explanation but closing it again after deciding those words just wouldn't work. “I tried to make you understand. Have you forgotten all that happened last night?”

All the blood drained from my face and I felt light headed, my legs no longer able to support me as I fell back against the sink. He noticed my current state and his grip tightened. But all he did was watch me, waiting for a response.

“I.. thought I was dreaming.. I woke up this morning and put it to the back of my mind. It was just a horrible nightmare.. wasn't it?” I rattled on, trying to make sense of the situation and claiming, though not aloud, that it was impossible and vampires did not exist.

“Oh, but they do, unfortunately” he said, fighting to force a smile onto his pale lips.

“But, that's not possible.. it's just.. no, it's impossible, Gee” I retorted, trying just as hard to make myself believe what I was saying, just as much as him. There was a 50/50 chance of it being realistic, all that we had read over time, all the strange things that had happened. It was likely, but still didn't seem real. It was difficult for me to believe in things like that, though I would always tell stories to frighten others, or make out that I actually did believe; always had and would.

“Don't make me prove it to you again, Clover” he sighed, trapping me between himself and the sink as he stepped closer. “—I didn't like it the first time.”

At this, my heart increased in speed and the loud thump sounded in my ears. It was almost deafening. I looked up at him and tried to put all the pieces together. If what happened last night really did happen and he wasn't bullshitting, I was in quite a sticky spot.

“Why did you, last night?” I asked, intent on understanding his actions.

Silence filled the space around us and all he did was stare down at me. It was hard to decipher what was going on inside his head. Unlike him, I could not read minds. That, again, was something I hadn't thought a likely trait of any vampire. It was all just a myth, wasn't it?

“I had my reasons. You didn't give me an answer, did you?” he pushed, and I knew what he was talking about almost straight away as that particular memory replayed in my head.

“Gerard —it isn't real, you need to stop with all of this. It's getting a little out of hand now, you know? It was fine when we were kids and you had this whole vampire thing going on and loved scaring the hell out of all the neighbours, but you need to grow up, don't you think?” I said, my voice breaking every now and then as I struggled to free myself from his grasp. “We're not kids any more. We had wild imaginations once and believed in everything and I get that, but this.. this is taking things a little too far and you need to quit it.”

“All right, you want to decode everything? Enlighten me, Clover – what happened last night?” he asked, encouraging me to explain how I had felt when his teeth sunk into my neck.

Ah, so there was one thing I could not explain, at all. I searched my brain for anything that might be good enough, but there was nothing. He was right. I was wrong. He had always been right, ever since we were toddlers. I had always fallen short of understanding everything he understood and it was always going to be that way, no matter our age.

“But..” I was stumped; broken beyond repair.

“Just.. accept it. It's real and you know it” he added, his tone soft as his hand moved up to grasp the back of my neck. “And.. you know, I can't eat that breakfast, but thank you.”

All I could do was smile now, my ability to argue my case dampened by all the truth. And as he guided my head toward my right shoulder, I allowed it. His breath, cold against my flesh as his lips brushed lightly against the skin. I knew what was coming and now realising I had already endured that pain last night, put up no fight.

“So..?” he pressed, licking over the faded wound he had made several hours earlier.

“Yes...” I sighed, “—I will be.”

Feeling the curl of his lips briefly, I found myself smiling as well. My hands came up to grip the back of his shirt as I prepared for that familiar piercing sensation. It was not a very nice one, but it passed sooner than one would think. His extended canines broke through the barrier and I gasped, my fingers twisting into the cotton material until the sting had vanished; replaced soon after with butterflies in my stomach. It did not seem a likely result of being bitten, but there was no way of arguing against it. This was what happened and I wondered how often he would keep me as someone he could feed from. I knew, deep down, if this continued, I would be drained of every last drop and I was almost certain he would not want that.

Gerard paused, drawing his fangs away from my neck and took a sharp breath, his head dropping back. My eyes were swimming as I struggled to focus on him, or anything still in the bathroom, but it was so hard to do. My vision had blurred some and I panicked.

Desperately, my arms wound around his neck so I could remain upright and I fought to focus my eyes on his face, watching as he smiled down at me. There was still a drop of blood hanging on his lower lip, but it bothered me very little. As he had done last time, he held my chin between his thumb and forefinger, his smiling face easing my worries.

“You need this” was all he said, before nipping at his wrist and holding it before my mouth.

Now, though my vision was somewhat blurry and I was unable to fully focus, I knew very well I wanted nothing at all to do with that. But he insisted, pushing his wrist nearer until I got a taste for the scarlet liquid as it fell upon my tongue. And from there, I refused to release my tight hold on his hand, only wanting more whenever he tried to pull it away from me.

“Clover—“ he hissed, one final yank freeing him from my grasp.

“...Sorry” I muttered, feeling my stomach clench; something vaguely familiar for a woman and so I was able to withstand the pain that followed. All the while, he held me close to him, until my body ceased convulsing and I collapsed awkwardly into his chest.

“Are you all right?” he asked, placing a tender kiss atop my head.

“I am now” I confessed, smiling stupidly knowing he could not see, my fingers clinging for dear life to his shirt as he held me.

Neither one of us spoke after that — we simply stood there, in each others arms, wondering what the future would hold; our future together.

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