The Possessive Creator (Book I)

(26) Present

(26) Present

I’ve never felt not good enough before. When it came to Xavier, well, I knew that I obviously was good enough for him to not let go. But he let me go the other night, and now, as I walk towards the house, I began to question my own worth. I admit, I had my fantasies of walking into the house and seeing him waiting for me. We’d kiss, do more than that, and then I’d admit my recent discovery; I love him.

As I entered the house I was greeted by a horrible sound. Moaning. I felt my knees lock up and my fangs extend. Alright, if I walk in and see something I desperately don’t want to see, I’ll leave and never ever return. After forcing my feet forward I slowly walked towards the door where the sound was coming from. It was El’s room. My curiosity got the better of me and I opened the door.

On the bed, surrounded by dozens of blood bags and chains, was El. She had chains on her arms, legs, around her waist, neck. It was insane how many chains she had, yet it was obvious the reason. She was sucking down a blood bag, moaning as she drank. My own thirst nearly made me do something stupid, like stealing it from her. She didn’t see me and was instead drinking faster. I closed the door and opened Xavier’s door, but it was less quiet. As the door opened, several bottles were blocking my entrance. I managed to squeeze past the door.

With closed eyes and a bottle of vodka in one hand, Xavier was lying on his bed in only jeans. The smell of alcohol burned my nose and I was astonished that there were so many bottles around. I stepped closer; each step was very soft in case I startled him. “Xavier?” I whispered.

His eyes opened instantly and he looked at me through squinted eyes. “What’re you doing here?” he slurred. His hair a wild mess and his breath smelled painfully of liquor. 

“I’m here to see you. But obviously I came at a bad time. How much have you been drinking?” I lifted up a bottle that was nearest to me, noticing how empty it was. It was a large bottle of whisky.

“Ah, yes, I’ve just been enjoying a glass of wine. Do you want one?” He tossed me a bottle of bourbon before opening up a bottle of gin.

I cleared off one side of the bed and plopped down beside him. The drink burned my throat, yet I enjoyed it. I took the drink in large gulps, letting it burn down inside of me. He already gulped down half of his drink. It was quiet other than El rattling her chains in the next room. Now that he was drunk, I could ask him anything. Before I tell him everything on my mind I wanted him to spill and tell me everything.

“Was she the only one you slept with while we were apart?” I asked.

He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow and a very drunk expression. “No, there were about three others…” he slurred and then took another swig.

I’d never seen him so drunk. “Why did you sleep with them?”

“I was so lonely, I just wanted…” He took two more swigs and wiped his mouth.

I took a swig of my bottle and refused to meet his eyes. “Do you actually love me?”

“Obviously. I wish I didn’t. Damn I wish I didn’t...”

“Why?”

He chuckled and took another gulp. “You know why.”

I did. He didn’t want to love me because I’ve never returned the feelings. I’ve always hated him and showed it every time I could. As much as I wanted to tell him that my feelings are now different, I felt that now was definitely not the time. How can this drunken man be the one that has saved my butt repeatedly over the years? How can he be the one that was always one step ahead of me?