He watched her, searching for answers. She leaned down and pulled her pants back up and was about to get out of the bed and go to the bathroom to wash up. He reached for her wrist, “Where are you going? Talk to me,” he said.
“I ate,” she said flatly.
“What’s wrong?”
“You only came back for my blood.”
“No.”
“No? Really?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. She fixed the seam of her cockeyed track pants and tried to blow her damp hair out of her eyes. It didn’t work so she had to push it back with her fingers.
“No,” he pulled her against him and took her face into his hands, “Definitely not. I missed you. You. I was……angry. And there’s so much I have to figure out. There’s stuff you don’t know. I needed space.”
She was suddenly pinned beneath him and he had her chin in his grip. He leaned in to kiss her but she stopped him with her palm over his mouth.
“So you punished me by chaining me up and now that you’re starving, you, you…”
He kissed her palm and then lifted her hand away by her wrist, which was now ringed with a greenish yellow where his bruises had been, “I had to keep you safe, stop you from running. But yeah, I guess I was punishing you, too. I’m not starving. But I knew you were ready and now that we’re here, I want to feed. I want to connect with you, baby.”
He was admitting that he was being a control freak. But that didn’t make it okay.
“I can’t just be okay with you chaining me up, controlling me, deciding when I’m ready. Let my wrists go, please, this one is still bruised. From you.” She had to set some ground rules, let him know that he couldn’t just take over like this. She didn’t ever want to give anyone carte blanche control over her life, not after her childhood. She pushed back the desire that coursed through her veins at the thought of that connection, that humming. If it’d be humming. It wouldn’t be spiders and snakes, would it?
He examined and then kissed her wrist, “I’m sorry about your wrist. I didn’t mean to bruise you. As for locking you up you didn’t let yourself out. And you had the key. Maybe you did want me to stop you from leaving because deep down you know you don’t want to leave even if your brain is telling you that you should. Listen to your soul. It’s telling you to let me take care of you. I can hear it.” He touched her face.
“I have issues with being controlled. I guard my freedom…fiercely. You’ve been sweet to me, at times.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her.
Kyla nodded, “But at times you’ve been a scary monster, too. You’re domineering and… and you’re addicted to my blood and…”
Tristan exhaled loudly, “You don’t understand, Kyla. You’ve seen nothing yet. You’d better get ready for a bumpy ride, baby, because I guarantee that this is not gonna to be smooth sailing. And yes, I’m addicted to your blood. But I’m addicted to you, too. And it’s pretty clear that the feeling is mutual. I feel you, I know it’s mutual. ”
Kyla continued, “Bumpy ride? How is that supposed to make me feel? Wouldn’t that make you wanna run?”
“You can’t run. I’m inside you. You’re inside me. If you try to run and manage to succeed at escaping for a little while, you’ll be miserable. And it’d only be for a little while because I’d find you and bring you back. I’d be angry. And I’d be hurt. You wanna keep hurting me?”
Her heart lurched forward, “I was kidnapped. You took sex from me. Repeatedly, after I said no. That’s a four letter word starting with an r. A capital R. You drank my blood. You took blood from me for some test. You’ve interfered with…” she started counting on her fingers, “my life, my jobs, my home, my body…” She took a deep breath and waved her arms erratically, “Then there’s all this supernatural paranormal stuff that I never even knew or believed existed.”
“So, I guess I was reading you wrong. I thought you were ready to actually discuss this. You just want to keep denying what you feel.” He stood up.
She took a deep breath, “Wait.”
He folded his arms.
“I feel that connection you’re talking about, too. I’m not denying it; I’m just having a hard time dissecting it. I know it’s magic or a chemical reaction of some sort.” She flattened her hand across her chest at her heart for emphasis, “Things are happening when you…feed. Even when you look at me. Things I can’t articulate. I was ruined the last few days, thinking about the things you’d said, the pain on your face. Ruined. I’ve never felt so much pain, not ever, not even when ---”