Bit Into Your Love {SAPPHIC}

🩸Vines (pt.66)🩸

‼️TRIGGER WARNING: Chapter 63-74 (the end) of this book will include highly sensitive and emotional topics. Viewer discretion is advised‼️

Cleodare's POV:

Two months later, I still woke up sweating, panting. Nightmares. I could still hear the sound of her heart stopping. The comfort thumping suddenly ending. Torturous, slow beats. Before nothing.

Panting, I rubbed my eyes.

I'd been sleeping a lot. Sleeping too much, some would say. It wasn't normal for me.
Now I had a sudden boost of motivation. I felt I couldn't stay in the suffocating sheets any longer.

It was kind of fucking idiotic.

I got up and wandered over to the closet.

Whenever I opened it, I was hit with cactus rose, her perfume, her lotion. Dried pink petals, the shampoo she put in her hair.

My hand caressed the sleeve of her jacket, my mind not all there. It was green. Green was her favorite color.

Green like her eyes.

Green like her sweaters.

Green like her pillowcase.

Green like the grass she'd died on.

I grabbed the sleeve and put it up to my nose. Holding back tears, I inhaled the scent, and let myself become absorbed by it.

It wasn't just cactus rose. It was the aroma of her happiness she'd always blessed everyone with, no matter what she had underlying. It was her smell.

Someone knocked on my door, before coming in.

"Mama?"
It was Theodore.

"Yes?" I glanced at them.

"W-we've ran out of blood..."

"You are more than capable of going hunting by yourself," I murmured, closing the closet door.

"B-but-"
"That's my final answer," I said firmly.

"But..."

I sighed, irritated. "No."

"Fine..." they sounded hurt but left with no more rebuttals.

I suddenly felt terrible again. I'd made them feel bad.

Theodore had never been the most confident, especially when it came to hunting. He wasn't proud of his fangs. I knew that he would rather be human. No matter how many times I had told him it was a gift.

However, I pushed it aside. I'd deal with it later.

I headed out after changing. A long walk was ahead of me. I reached for my bag and went out the front door.

It had spare blood bags in it. They were empty, ready to be filled.

I was going back to the old forest. The one where I'd met Marine. The one I'd lived in most of my life.

Before walking into the sun like an imbecile, I put my jacket on, my hood up, and I stayed near the trees so the shade still hung over me.

When I got there, I took my jacket off, shoving it into my bag. The forest was bigger than the one back at home, the foliage was fuller and easier for hiding from the sun.
The first kill was easy. I was still alive, spry.

There was a certain way to collect blood. Slitting the throat was always easiest. Lean the body against something, sit them up, and put the port of the bag up to their neck. It went in most easily after that.