"Wine? It's red. You can pretend its blood."
I offer her the glass, aware she is staring at me with that strange look in her eyes.
She sips the wine, easing off her heels before she answers me, tilting her head to the side as she seems to examine me.
"So. Vampire King."
I scoff then, sipping my wine as I lean back against the fireplace behind me. I'm not sure what she means by that; does she want some kind of explanation? Is she disgusted by it? I would be.
"Yeah," I mutter, before placing my wine on the table between us.
"Does the vampire king not party?"
She arches a brow in my direction as I find my attention captured by her lips, which I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been thinking about for the entire drive home. Maybe that's what this was- a sexual allure.
I soon drain my wine.
"You mean get excessively drunk and lose control? No, not my thing."
She shrugs off her jacket, and the sight of her in my vest makes my heart ache. God she was beautiful.
She gets up, walking towards the piano as she lets her fingers dance along the keys faintly.
"Because I'd rather make sure we kept the peace."
I'm bored of this conversation, and I'm contemplating bending her over the fucking piano. As though she can hear me she turns, her eyes wide as she stares at me.
"I get that," she whispers, and I frown.
"It must be really frustrating. Other vampires not wanting to behave, I mean. Vlad seems obedient enough."
At the mention of his name I'm annoyed, and I cross the room to refill my now drained wine.
"What a shitty thing to be known as," I muse, laughing bitterly as I top my wine up. I notice shes barely touched hers. "Obedient."
"Not everyone is a leader, Quinn."
I'm surprised by her words, and I shrug.
"Sometimes you don't have a choice."
"Like I didn't," she says softly, making me snap my head up towards her. She's gazing at me through her hooded lashes, and I feel the familiar burn of shame.
"I'm sorry about that. I won't ever stop apologising to you."
"I understand, you didn't want me to die."
I remain silent, instead nodding my head softly. I sip the wine, beginning to wish it would just get me fucking drunk already.
"I didn't want you to die, so I killed you," I shook my head in disbelief, before glancing back over at her. "You won't ever forgive me for that, I'm aware."
"Why didn't you want me to die?" her voice is a whisper now, and I don't trust myself to look at her. I stare at my glass as I toy with my emotions- regret, anger and frustration to name a few.
"Becuase you didn't ask to be bitten. You had a life. You were normal. Why should you die without a chance of existing?"
We are silent then, and she turns and gazes out of the window, her back to me. I'm gazing at her now, her thoughts loud in my mind as I try to ignore them.
He isn't a monster.
"If it's any consolation, I hated my life."
Her words are faint, but they make me stare at her in stunned silence. How can anyone hate the gift that is life? She was young, and beautiful. She had everything.
"I'm sure that's not true-" I begin, when she whips around, her eyes filled with tears.
"Oh trust me, it is. I much prefer this existence. Especially if it means I never see anyone from my old life again."
I realise she must've been hurt before. I didn't know in what capacity, and I wondered why it bothered me so much that I didn't know.
"Then you're welcome," I sigh, leaning back in my chair as she crosses the room, sitting in front of me as she reaches for my wine. Her fingers brush mine, and I frown as she sips it.
"What's wrong with your wine?" I ask curiously, and she shrugs.
"I trust the fact that this isn't poisoned if you're drinking it."
I can't help but laugh in disbelief, reaching for her glass as I drain it instantly. I slam it on the table, before glaring at her.
"First you accuse me of being a kidnapper, now you think I'm some sort of assassin? What sort of sick fuck do you think I am, Molly?"
She looks frightened, and I regret my words instantly.
"I know what men are like, Quinn. I know what Vlad wanted me to go partying with him for, for example. I'm not stupid. But you..."
She pours more wine into her glass, frowning when she realises it is the end of the bottle.
"Theres more wine in the cellar," I whisper, wanting her to finish her sentence. She nods as she drinks, and I resist the urge to reach out and touch her. "What about me?" I press, eager to hear her thoughts.
"You're confusing," she shrugs. "You save me, then you're just an ass. You're in love with someone else, yet stop your henchman taking me for a quick fuck. Why?"
I'm incredibly still now, and I find I'm speechless. She was blunt, and I loved it. But it still terrified me, because I couldn't answer her questions.
"You're beyond attractive. I've seen you countless times in that club, yet you've not noticed me once," she whispers, her eyes misting over as she gazes into the distance behind me. "I knew you had to be some kind of demi God-"
"I'm not," I interrupt, shaking my head for her to stop. "You should be fucking elated I never noticed you, Molly, or your have been a victim. Would you want that?"
She leans closer to me, ever so slightly, and I try to remain calm.
"If it meant I'd have kissed you, and you'd have taken me away from my life, yeah."
Her eyes finally meet mine, and its then that I realise she is staring at my lips.
"You want me to kiss you?" I ask gruffly, unable to believe i was having a conversation with a beautiful woman about merely kissing her. This was unheard of.
She suddenly crawls onto the table, moving towards me slowly. I'm unable to move, especially when she sits on my lap like she did to her first unsuspecting victim.
"You said no man alive could resist this. You're not alive," she whispers, as my hands touch her thighs gently.
What the fuck am I doing? Airini would kill me.
Before I can think anymore, Molly brushes her lips against mine, ever so softly. She tastes sweet despite the wine, and I can't help but kiss her back. Instantly it gets heated, and our hands are all over one another. My hand is buried in her hair as she moans against me, her thoughts suddenly interrupting my pleasure.
Stop thinking of him, Quinn is nothing like that...
"Like what?" I ask, pulling her away from me slightly, my arm still holding her close to me as her eyes widen.
"Nothing. No one."
She tries to pull away from me but I'm holding her still, the fear in her eyes suddenly appearing.
"Quinn, let me go," she hisses, and I do. She stands up, and I gaze at her with a level of concern I'd not felt in a long time.
"Whoever he is. I'm nothing like him, because I'd never hurt you," I whisper, standing up as I go to leave the room. She doesnt stop me, and as I make my way to the cellar for more wine I hear her crying softly above me.
What the fuck happened to her?
More importantly, why did I care so damn much?