tagSci-Fi & FantasyThe Vampire's Dancer Ch. 02

The Vampire's Dancer Ch. 02

byTheRavenRose©

Author's Note:

Thank you to all those who read/commented/favourited the last chapter. Your comments really inspired me and boosted my confidence. I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

This my first story so please excuse any awkward places or mistakes. This is set in England where I'm from, so some places may not be familiar. I hope you enjoy and I would really appreciate any feedback.

This is a romance between a vampire and a human; hopefully the story will progress well. If you're looking for a quick fix, this probably isn't for you.


*****

Days past. Days full of ordinary boring crap. Nothing new.

Lierah's thoughts were full of her rescuer; he'd never left her mind. His figure, so broad and muscular. His face, so perfect. His hands, rough yet soft and wonderful. His eyes, so intense and magnificent.

She lay awake in her bed as she had for at least an hour now. She rolled over and stared at the red digits on her alarm clock. 6:57... 6:58... 6:59...

The bleeping rang through her head for less than a second before she hit the button on top.

She dragged herself into the kitchen, clumsily popped some bread into the toaster and waited.

Engrossed in her thoughts it scared the life out of her when the toast sprung from the toaster, one landing on the counter top, the other hitting Charlotte on the head as she walked through the door.

She burst into a fit of giggles as Charlotte, her usual grump self, flung the toast back at her. She caught it with one hand and began buttering.

Her laughter continued all through breakfast, and as Charlotte began to properly wake, she couldn't help but laugh too.

"We seriously need a new toaster" Charlotte managed through giggles.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Both girls frowned, "Who the hell wants us at 7:00 in the morning?" Lierah asked.

Toast in hand she padded to the door and opened it. What met her eyes shocked her. There in all his glory stood her unnamed rescuer from 4 nights before.

"Hi." He said, looking at her from top to bottom, taking in her white camisole top and Mickey Mouse pyjama shorts, her tousled hair and half eaten toast. He smiled at her, clearly bemused.

"Err..." She was at a loss for words. Thankfully Charlotte saved her.

"Hi!" She called brightly from the kitchen, perched on the counter with a cup of coffee. Lierah opened the door wider as an invitation; he accepted and graciously entered the apartment.

As soon as his back was turned and they made small talk, Lierah began making silent gestures and miming to Charlotte.

That's the guy I told you about!! She attempted to mime.

Her expression was clearly confused. She pointed to him, miming: He's the guy!!

"He's the guy?!" Charlotte exclaimed excitedly.

Lierah simply put her head in her hands and shook her head. When she looked up, she saw him looking at her with an amused expression and Charlotte open mouthed and bright red.

"I'm just gonna... uh...yeah..." She practically ran from the room.

Her cheeks felt hot and she chewed on her lip, shuffling her feet awkwardly. He on the other hand, just laughed softly. She looked up at him and smiled shyly.

He stepped closer to her and dramatically bowed, this made her giggle, he flashed a boyish grin at her and said: "I never introduced myself the other night. My name is Viktor Lestat."

*****

He quickly settled his gaze on her eyes, staring into their immense green depth. "I'm sorry to just drop by like this..." he began.

"It's fine." She said a little quickly, she blushed and looked away.

"I was just uh... uh..." He hadn't had this much trouble getting words out in over 50 years. "...If you'd like to uh..."

She smiled at him, a wonderful bright smile that made his insides warm. He cleared his throat and began again. "I was wondering if you might like to...uh...get some coffee or something..." He stuttered.

She studied him for a while, clearly deciding whether she should come with him. After all, he was a stranger to her. After a few more seconds of silence and staring, she finally said: "That would be great. Thank you. Just give me a few minutes."

He smiled and nodded, then perused the room. He scanned their tiny kitchen, the shabby couch... His eyes skimmed over the numerous photos scattered around the room. Some of Lierah and her perky roommate, others personal family shots, some group photos at parties and what not.

He eventually settled on an older photo nestled on the coffee table. It was a younger version of Lierah; he judged she was about 6 or 7. Her hair was shorter, styled into two plaits and her two front teeth were missing. She was clinging on to the back of a handsome man, he assumed was her father. He had light brown hair with only a few streaks of grey, deeply tanned skin and smile wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. They were laughing, both of them immensely happy.

He quickly put down the photograph as he heard footsteps approaching; he pretended to be immersed in an old magazine strewn on the table.

He looked up as she entered; she wore a loose white peasant top and dark blue jeans, completed with a pair of strappy sandals. She'd pushed her hair out of her face with a hairband leaving it to tumble around her shoulders.

"So, ready to go?" He asked. She nodded and pulled her jacket on. They trudged down the stairs and out into the cool air. Today was cloudy, for this he was grateful. Her scent caught on the breeze and made him tense up, just as four nights before. It was overpowering but marvellous. It had been a long time since a woman had made him feel like this. It terrified him since it would not be a good idea to repeat it.

*****

Coffee turned out to be an understatement. Viktor had taken her to a huge arcade with a tiny café squeezed in on the inside. She'd gone through 3 cups of coffee and a sandwich before he finally lost to the ghosts on Pac man.

They'd spent all day going from game to game even the table tennis and air hockey, both of which he let her win, despite him swearing against it.

She'd even dragged him into the photo booth which resulted in 2 strips of goofy photos each. Dusk was starting to fall by the time they left.

"I was thinking, we could go get some dinner before you went back to your apartment?"

She was surprised by this question, but she smiled and nodded. He took her to a posh expensive looking restaurant, just looking at the place made her purse ache. She'd never been to anywhere as high class as this; a special night out for when she was a kid would have been at her local diner.

They were met by a long line of people waiting for a table but almost immediately a tall waiter came up to them.

"Ah, Mr Lestat. Lovely to see you again, usual table?"

"Yes thank you James that would be perfect." Wow... first name basis with the waiters, he must be quite popular around here.

They were lead through a maze of tables and up a short flight of stairs and past even more people until they came to a little table out on a small balcony overlooking the city below. The table was laid with silver cutlery and an ice bucket holding a bottle of wine. The napkins were folded into delicate swans with a candle flickering golden light into every corner it could reach.

They were seated and presented with book size menus. She perused it for a while before setting it down before her. The waiter came rushing over and opened the wine with a flourish, pouring it into their glasses. He took their orders and disappeared back into the restaurant. She sniffed her glass and gingerly brought it to her lips; she recoiled slightly at its pungent taste.

"Don't drink much huh?"

She peered at him over her glass "Not really."

He chuckled and nodded. There was silence for a while before the waiter came back laden with plates.

"Could we get a glass of water for the lady." It was a statement not a question, she noticed.

"Certainly sir."

He came back two minutes later, laid the glass down and went back into the restaurant pulling the deep blue chiffon curtains behind him, shielding them from the rest of the people.

She noticed about halfway through dinner that he ate like a supermodel. He picked at his meat and mostly pushed it around his plate, barely sipping at his drink.

The rest of dinner was fun, talkative, just as the day had been. She was a little taken aback when he asked her about the picture on her coffee table.

"That was me and my Dad on my 6th birthday. My Mum walked out on us when I was two so it was always really hard for us, but he always made sure that we were okay and he'd even go into debt just to put food on the table. He was my favourite person in the world, I used to think there was no one better than him."

"You say 'was' quite a lot, like he's not anymore?" He asked.

"He past away about a year and a half after that photo was taken."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He was silent for a while before he spoke again "I felt like that for someone once. I felt like I could find no one better than her, she was my everything and she couldn't be replaced. Of course it was very different to a father-daughter bond but..." He trailed off.

She leaned forward in her seat, "You don't have to go on if you don't want to..."

"No, it's okay. I just don't talk about it much."

She nodded. "So, if you don't mind me asking... what happened to her?"

"She died."

"I'm sorry." She didn't press any further, something told her that wasn't the end of his story.

*****

The rest of the night past quickly and soon enough they found themselves outside her apartment. Part of him was depressed that they were parting whilst the other told him he had to find something to eat since he hadn't eaten since the night they'd met and currently his throat was burning.

"Hey um... thank you for today, I had a great time." She stammered.

"You're welcome. Maybe we could do it again?"

"Yeah definitely!" She exclaimed, she blushed again and looked away.

He was beginning to love it when that happened. "Well thank you again." She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. She turned and stepped into her apartment. His cheek still tingled as he stepped into the cool night air.

"Viktor?" He froze at her cold icy voice.

"Eleanor." His eyes narrowed on the tall brunette standing before him.

"What do you think you're doing with that human? It's dangerous Viktor!"

His anger bubbled to the surface "Who are you to judge what's dangerous?! It's none of your fucking business what I do, after what you did!"

Her face paled "That was not my fault. What happened to Rose had nothing..."

"Don't you say her name! Don't you dare say her name! You lost that right long ago." He turned on his heel and stalked away from her. His anger and hunger ripped through his composure as he punched a chunk out of the corner of the building.

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