He knew immediately the moment he looked at her.\u00a0 He also knew she was unaware.\u00a0 His regret was tangible, a piercing ache encased his heart because he knew of her kindness, her sense of decorum, and no such soul should suffer.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Such an old word, decorum.\u00a0 He felt ancient using it and scoffed at himself inwardly because when he was young he would only use that word in an exaggerated sense.\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s try some\u00a0decorum, please,\u201d if one of his frat brothers burst forth in an over dramatic way or in an uncouth manner when their then young, male bodies would sound in gastric relief after a night of debauchery.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
His nights wasted in such matters were over, just as definitely as were all his frat brothers.
A movement caught his eye; her.\u00a0 She moved up the aisle toward him and their brief eye contact forgotten by her almost instantly.\u00a0 He stood stock-still and only let her pass him with difficulty.\u00a0 Only when her genuine though weary smile changed to a look of frowning hurt did he step back with an apology.\u00a0 He stepped back into the shelves, his elbows knocking down can goods and the noise brought drowsy looking stock clerks to their vicinity.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
He watched her take over. \u00a0\u201cIt was an accident, no harm done.\u201d \u00a0He had enough sense to kneel with her and make a grab for the rolling canned peas and lima beans.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u00a0 So sorry.\u201d\u00a0 His voice was hoarse and raspy.\u00a0 He hated the sound of his own voice.\u00a0 He kept silent as much as possible, remembering that once upon a time he would sing to crowds of fawning young girls in intimately dark venues where music was as scrutinized and savored as that of the body of a lover.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
No longer.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
She reached forward, her slender wrist exposed from beneath her coat only for a moment.\u00a0 She busied herself with placing the can goods back upon the shelf.\u00a0 The memory of her steady pulse just beneath her skin caused him to shudder, fighting attraction.\u00a0 He expanded his large hands grasped the rolling can goods and held them in a steady grip, then shoved the cans upon the shelf without looking at what he was doing.\u00a0 She smelled of lavender soap and a day\u2019s work.\u00a0 Her fingers were ringless and her makeup smudged.\u00a0 He watched as she shivered and glanced nervously at him.\u00a0 He wanted to expand before her, levitate and lift her into his embrace.\u00a0 Instead he backed away, \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said again.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
She frowned and shook her head slightly.\u00a0 \u201cYou worry too much. It was an accident.\u201d\u00a0 Her voice was soft but firm.\u00a0 She turned without another look at him and continued to shop.\u00a0 He glanced out the store window, the snow floated down in large lacey white flakes against the black hazy night sky.\u00a0 A veil of white lace for her lovely hair and face.\u00a0 A fitting night.\u00a0 Cold and harsh the winters in this land, the winds so merciless.\u00a0 What was this beautiful woman doing here?<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
It would be a cold walk to her car.\u00a0 Why was she so late, looking for vulgar food in tins and dusty shelves?\u00a0 Why wasn\u2019t she home, in her bed, asleep with her cat at her feet, both purring with contentment?\u00a0 Why wasn\u2019t she with a husband; a candlelit supper waiting on her?\u00a0 Shouldn\u2019t she be in the shelter of strong and warm arms to protect her or next to him safe and sound?<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
He could hear her hum a tune in the next aisle, no doubt a song of comfort, trying to push away unwarranted fears.\u00a0 He felt strengthened; he felt as if he could breathe in and pull all the contents of the store toward him, including her.\u00a0 He felt as if he could walk through the aisle that separated them and capture her in his arms, rise above everything and whirl her about the ceiling with no effort at all.\u00a0 He could hear the rhythm of her breath.\u00a0 He could feel her heartbeat, steady and serene.\u00a0 He could taste\u2026<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Darkness is easy to find when the living endeavor so hard to light the night. No one noticed the blur of darkness he became as he took her into his arms, nor noticed her brief struggle.
It\u2019s not beautiful the sound that indicates his search for her life force; the growl, the frigid feel of his lips upon her soft, warm and exposed neck.\u00a0 The agony for him was\u00a0that moment of ecstasy every woman offers in opening herself up to a need, even as diabolical as his.\u00a0 Her shudder, her pity as fleeting and erratic as the flight of a butterfly and for a moment he wonders if this is the one he should keep, if this is the one who would\u2026 but no, her terror is too complete and he finishes his hunt in the deepest, darkest part of the night.<\/p>\r\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
She reached forward, her slender wrist exposed from beneath her coat only for a moment. She busied herself with placing the can goods back upon the shelf. The memory of her steady pulse just beneath her skin caused him to shudder, fighting attraction. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2218,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[43,3],"tags":[36,14,18],"class_list":["post-1097","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-horror","category-short-fiction","tag-amwritingfiction","tag-horror","tag-vampire"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"amp_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/lydiaink.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/08\/Snowlit-Night-at-the-Old-General-Store.png?fit=1536%2C1024&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1097","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1097"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1097\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2219,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1097\/revisions\/2219"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2218"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1097"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1097"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1097"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}