Vampires and TSwift

Abigail had stayed at this party long enough. Her lipstick had deteriorated into tiny pink splotches on her lips from kissing too many boys. One asshole had bit her bottom lip until it bled a little. She waited for her Uber.

Henry smelled her blood. It smelled so sweet and boozy. He felt the pain of his canines growing at the scent and stretched his jaw and drew his collared cape over his mouth. He looked at this party girl, clearly drunk, as she stumbled into her Uber. Henry became a flock of bats as he followed the Uber, feeling ridiculous. He didn't want her blood, did he? 

His bat self screeched as he dodged streetlights and power lines. He liked his bat self. His different thoughts and feelings were more parsed out in this state. That bat was hunger. That one was longing. He noticed his longing bat was furthest behind and hardly able to keep up with the pack. That was no surprise. His feelings of longing were the most intense and made him feel depressed and anxious. But what did he long for? This random girl's blood? Or her affection? She was pretty. This would be the last time he ran this experiment, he promised himself.

Abigail gestured that the Uber was going the long way to her place. But Uber guy paid her no mind and didn't bother to turn up the heater when she made a point of visibly tucking her jacket around herself more tightly. Jackets. Jack. Jack had confessed his love to her. Earlier at the party. But shortly after he'd been kissing some other girl. To be fair, Abigail had kissed another boy first. But if Jack really loved her, shouldn't he have said something to her? Pulled her aside and gotten hot and bothered? 

I hope you get home safe, she texted him. 

Yeah. But Jack never just sent one word texts.

I can tell you're mad at me.

Don't pin this on me.

I'm not pinning anything on you. Unless you want me to. (demon smile emoji)

Look, I'm not trying to play games. If you don't like me it's no big deal. There's plenty of fish in the sea. 

Hahahahahahahahaha, texted Abigail. You can have the fish then. Maybe a bass will snag on your line. Oooo or maybe an Alaskan Salmon! Probably not though. Those run about $15/lb and you can't afford that. 

She had already hit send before she realized how stupid that sounded.

Jack didn't reply and the Uber dropped her off at her apartment. She forgot to close the car door as she walked away, but some man in a high collar closed it for her. The Uber guy said thanks and drove off. 

"I'm Henry," said the man. 

Abigail liked his pale skin and dark hair. He had a little stubble and a handle of Jack Daniels in his hand. Of course it was Jack. She frowned.

"You still drinking?" she asked. 

"Yeah. I have all this energy and do not see myself sleeping for a while."

"Me neither," she said. 

"Would you like to wind down together then?"

"Well that was forward," Abigail grinned. "Okay fine. Maybe a couple drinks."

"Okay good."

Abigail turned on a Taylor Swift album while she got some glasses filled with ice. Maybe she should've suggested they go to his place. Her clothes were strewn all over her apartment and she hadn't put out the trash for a while. There was a bad scent in the kitchen. She looked over at Henry, sitting with his eyes shut. He didn't seem to care so why should she?

She gave him his glass and they did the stupid "cheers" thing before taking sips together. Henry liked the sound of the ice clinking in his glass. His father had always had a glass to clink around while they sat at parties and he carried on about his latest political efforts. Dad's public persona was more pleasant to Henry than their one-on-one time, where his words cut like daggers and he called it "tough love".

Henry hated the Taylor Swift songs, but he found that by closing his eyes he could tune it out with his imagination. And he had a lot to imagine. Burying his canines into Abigail (or maybe she'd go by Abby while he tickled her ear? That sounded warm and fuzzy.) was most on his mind. He had played it out. He would lean in when she asked a question as if to hear her better. But he would be getting closer to hear her heartbeat pulse in his ear. That seductive, tantalizing pulse that he knew would give him goosebumps. 

She gave him the opportunity shortly. 

"Do you live in this apartment complex?" she asked.

"Come again, Abby?"

He had leaned his head awkwardly close to her, and Abby laughed at how British he looked and sounded. It was the first time she noticed it. This guy did not seem to be from around here.

"Do you live in this flat?" She asked in a British accent.

She saw a flash of anger spread across Henry's face and just as quickly disappear. 

"I don't," he said. "I live in D.C. and I'm here visiting."

"Oh are you involved in politics or something?"

Henry didn't answer but had moved very close to Abigail. She felt uncomfortable now. "I didn't mean to mock you I was just messing with you."

He took in a deep breath and the lighting in the room dimmed a bit. The Taylor Swift song faded into a Beethoven symphony. She felt her eyes grow tired and slumped back into a kind of stupor. It felt like ecstasy, and she felt Henry's breath on her neck: warm at first and then a slight tickle. She shut her eyes and felt him give her a hickey. She heard a squelching sound that sounded concerning on an intellectual level, but she felt too good to give it any thought.

As soon as Henry felt the blood touch his lips he felt disgust and horror. He could hear his father screaming at his recklessness and selfishness. But that wasn't what bothered him. He wasn't enjoying the blood. On some level he knew he wouldn't enjoy her blood, but he couldn't bring himself to hold that thought in mind or remember it when temptation arose. Maybe he just hadn't found the right human that would give him a flavor he would love. A flavor that would align fantasy with reality.

Once again, for the millionth time, he realized that what turned him on, what excited him, was every little moment leading up to that taste of blood. The pulse. The woman's soft voice in his ear that calmed his bloody rage. Her eyes shutting in stupor as his vampiric powers of annihilation consumed her and the room itself. The thrum of her heartbeat. His ability to control her emotion and fill her with pleasure. The imagination of how her sweet vodka-scented blood would taste in his mouth. And then only to be disappointed. Again. That disgusting coppery taste that made him want to vomit. That bloody regret on his lips. His brothers loved human blood, why couldn't he? 

He shivered and moved away from her. Quickly.

Abigail snapped out of the trance and saw a flock of bats fly out her window. Henry was gone. She drew her hand to her neck and saw the red stain on her fingers. She brought it to her mouth and tasted the vodka and Jack mixed with blood and sadness and laughed. It tasted delicious. She felt a little pain in her teeth.

You've got that James. Dean. Day. Dream. White Teee-shirrrt! She sang along and took a sip of Jack from the handle Henry had left behind. Maybe, if she kept singing and drinking, she could will this event out of her memory. And Jack too.