Torn Between Souls

DATE

It was Friday, and I was a disaster.

I was going on a date. A date. For the first time in years, and not only that but a date with a vampire. A Vampire I wanted to kiss, and smack, and then maybe kiss again due to his constant up and down.

I had taken a shower, shaving and moisturizing in an attempt to make me feel better about myself because who am I kidding, I’m a ball of nerves. I had stood in front of the mirror and applied a light layer of mascara, and a warm pink lip gloss, but my hair was a disaster.`

It was wavy, and curly, and stook up all over. I combed it and tried to apply some heat to it, but it was just wild. Finally, I just pulled it back into a knot at the base of my neck, a few strands coming loose. I took a deep breath, trying to smooth the waves down, before heading into my bedroom.

On the bed lay a plain white box, pulled open, revealing the gorgeous red dress inside. I wasn’t surprised by his choice. He had mentioned red on me before. I blushed at the thought. Ravishing. That’s what he had said as I stood there in my red, fleece pullover.

I fingered the edges of the dress and peeked at the clock. Matteo was supposed to be here in 10 minutes, and knowing him, he’d be prompt. I bit the corner of my lip, and then remembered I was wearing lip gloss and cursed myself. With a final sigh, I donned the dress, and a pair of nude flats, before admiring myself in the mirror.

The dress had short, almost tank length fluttery sleeves, that stretched into a deep v-neck, showing a small amount of cleavage. The soft rich fabric fit snuggly to my torso and then fluttered away from me seamlessly into a flattering skirt with plenty of movement that stopped just a few inches above the knee. It was beautiful. The gauzy overlay shimmered in the light and brought out the red in my hair.

I hoped he liked it, I said to myself as a small amount of disappointment washed over me. He had picked it, what if he didn’t like it? Gosh, I sounded like a child. I was a grown woman.

A knock sounded at the door, and a rock caught in my throat. I hurried to the door and threw it open. I inhaled sharply. Matteo stood in front of me, wearing a pair of dark trousers, and a black button-down, the first two buttons were undone, and a deep blue blazer. His Emerald eyes sparkled, and he looked them up and down slowly. When he met mine, I shivered the slightly, the darkness there nudging something deep inside me.

“You look lovely,” he said in an almost hoarse whisper, “Divine, really. It suits you.”

I smiled softly and nodded a quiet thank you before turning to grab my purse.

“Why don’t you ever let your hair free?” He asked.

The question surprised me, and I raised a brow, shrugging, “Well it’s quite unruly.”

“As are you,” he smirked.

I tried to hide my blush, and moved towards the door, “Shall we go?” I asked, changing the subject.

He nodded, and I put on a knee-length black coat, and then he led me down to his car, opening the passenger side door for me. I felt his gaze linger on me for a moment before he shut it behind me. We drove to the restaurant, almost an hour away. It was a small bistro. String lights hung outside, and a few people sat under them, laughing, and eating, despite the crisp, damp, November air.

When Matteo opened the door for me, he held out his arm for me. I hesitated, and met his eyes, before lacing mine through his. This close to him, his smoke and cinnamon scent was intoxicating. I closed my eyes to enjoy it, and lost my footing, tripping over the curb, but before I could hit the ground, Matteo had me in his arms.

He lifted me slightly, and I craned my neck to meet his eyes. He gave me an almost lopsided grin, before resuming the previous position. We entered, and he let the host know his name, and we were escorted to a private room. It was beautiful. The small table had a plush chair on either side of it and a red tablecloth. Twinkly lights lined the ceilings of the encased brick room. Candles flickered on the mantle of the fireplace that burned at half-mast.

“Wow,” I said out loud, “A private room.”

Matteo stood behind me and offered to take my coat. He helped me slip out of it, his fingertips lightly grazing my shoulders before he leaned down and whispered into my ear.

“I thought you might prefer to be yourself with just me.”

I knew he was just talking about not worrying about the wolves, but his voice still sent a shiver down my back. He pulled out a chair for me and I sat. He ordered a bottle of champagne, a type I had never even heard of before, and asked for us to be brought the Chef’s tasting plates for the evening.

When the champagne arrived, he poured me a glass, and I took a small sip, and almost melted.

“Oh my goodness, this is...delicious!” I exclaimed softly, “What is it?”

“It’s a 1921 blend from a tiny vineyard in France,” he said matter of factly.

My eyes almost bulged out of my head, “1921?”

He shrugged, “I prefer whiskey or a deep red, but I know you like champagne.”

I shook my head, “Do you just bleed money?” I asked, “I mean the car...this dress must have cost a fortune, this bistro, the champagne…”

“I bleed blood, just as you do,” he said, again matter of factly.

I rolled my eyes, and brushed off the subject, coming to another one that was much more important to me.

“What happened in that hallway?” I asked, my voice firm, as I crossed my arms, “You just....dissapeared. And then you showed up 5 days later, completely unannounced at my job, asking me to dinner like nothing ever happened.”

One of his hands balled into a fist, and his jaw tightened, “Getting to the point right away I see.”

I just stared back at him, “You had your condition for dinner, I had mine.”

He looked away, and I could tell he was debating what to tell me. My anger surged again. How dare he? I came here with him. I had a right to an explanation.

“The truth,” I pressed.

He closed his eyes for a moment, before looking at me, “I needed to hunt. I hadn’t eaten in days, and when I get hungry, and my emotions are moving rapidly, I can be dangerous. I’m a vampire, Rose.”

I bit the corner of my lip, thinking to myself for a moment, “Where did you go?”

“North,” he replied quickly.

My heartbeat rapidly as the next question fell from my lips, “Do you kill someone?”

He shook his head, “No. I don’t feed on people. I hunt animals. Large prey for the most part.”

“Do they suffer?” I asked softly, my voice a whisper.

“No, they don’t,” he said in an equally soft voice, before gently smiling, “I give them a swift, and painless death.”

I nodded, and fiddled with my napkin, before taking another delectable taste of my champagne. Just then, the waiter appeared with a few small plates. Two plates of lamb, one that looked absolutely perfect, covered in herb butter, and the other that looked...quite rare. In addition to a deconstructed salad, and a bowl of warm tomato soup, with fresh bread.

I frowned slightly, as he served himself some lamb, “You...eat?”

He nodded gently, tasting a bit of soup, “Not much. Mostly meat that is hardly cooked, tartare, etcetera. Vegetables are okay as well, though not many. I do have a fondness for tomatoes.”

I couldn’t help but let out a bubble of laughter at his strange appetite for tomatoes. My bubble turned into another, and finally, I let out a short laugh. When I looked up, his eyes were gleaming.

We ate bits of the first course, and talked some more about what he could and couldn’t do. He was very fast. He could go from 0 to 50mph in a matter of moments, but it took a lot out of him, and he’d need to eat sooner. He was very strong as well, and agile. He compared himself to a cheetah or a mountain lion. He reminded me more of a panther.

The second course arrived. Fresh tuna salad with peppers and capers, braised pork, and a hand-rolled pasta with fresh mozzarella and basil. The pasta was my happy place, and I was content with having it to myself, while he nibbled on the fresh tuna in his salad.

“How old are you?” I finally asked, the words spilling from my mouth with little effort after almost three glasses of champagne.

“Old,” was all he said.

“Come on now,” I frowned, “Tell me!”

“Guess then,” he shrugged, “I’ll let you know when you get it right.”

I c****d my head, “200?”

He shook his head.

“300? 400?”

He shook his head again, a tentative smile on his face as he watched me. I felt my cheeks flush.

“F...500?” I asked.

He paused for a moment, “Where did you get that bruise on your arm? It’s the side of a bowling ball.”

The question threw me off, and I frowned, my hand going to the tender skin of my arm. It had almost healed, the color in it fading away, but he had still noticed.

“I...fell,” I muttered.

A concerned look came over him, and he leaned forward on his elbows, “You fell?”

I shrugged slightly, the concern in his eyes keeping me from my lie, “I fainted. A few nights ago.”

He narrowed his eyes “Why, Rose, did you faint?”

I gulped slightly, and looked around the room, avoiding the severity of his gaze.

I felt his finger turn my face towards him, as I met his eyes once more, “Why did you faint?”

I sighed a long sigh, and hung my head, “I’ve been having more...dreams and-and visions. They are getting stronger and they...hurt.”

“When did they start getting painful? The last time we spoke about them, they were only coming to you in small flashes, and now you are fainting amid your day due to the pain?” he said, his voice hard, searching, and concerned.

“They had already been getting worse, but since our...kiss, they’ve been bad. Almost constant and they aren’t always...things that have happened to me.”

He was at my side in an instant, pulling me to stand from my chair. His brow was furrowed and he looked...defeated.

“I should never have done that,” he hissed, a growl rumbling in his chest, “I should never have touched you. I’ve put you in more danger-”

“No,” I said, shaking my head as I reached up and clasped his face between my small, warm palms, “No I wanted it. I-I still want it.”

He looked surprised. Who was I kidding? I was surprised. My hands trembled softly against his cool skin. Sparks erupting under my palms. He ducked his head closer to mine, his lips just centimeters away. I could feel his breath wash over my face, and my eyes fluttered shut. In an instant, he pressed his lips to mine, and heat erupted inside me.

One of his hands went to the small of my back, forcing me up onto my tiptoes. I held onto his face for support, as his other hand sunk into my hair, loosening the knot there. Our lips melted together, over and open. My lips parted softly, and his followed suit, deepening our kiss.

My heart raced, my cheeks flushing deeply. I could hardly breathe. My lips were on fire as Matteo held me against him. I felt his hand trail from the small of my back, down over my hip, until his hand grazed the soft skin of my upper thigh, and I gasped, right as he pulled away, instantly putting five feet between us.

I struggled to catch my breath, watching him, as I saw him wrestle with himself for a moment before his eyes cleared, and his hands stopped clenching. He breathed a small sigh and met my eyes with another smile, but his body was still tense.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

I took a shaky breath, “I think I’d like to go home.”

He nodded, and helped me with my coat, before setting down some money on the table and walking me out. We drove in silence back to my apartment, the only sound the sound of my breathing, still heavy from the alcohol, and the kiss.

When we arrived, he moved to walk me upstairs, and I put a hand against his chest, shaking my head, “I’m fine. You should just...go.”

“You’ve been drinking, Rose,” he said softly, moving to grab hold of my wrist.

“I’m fine,” I said again, giving him a reassuring smile, before turning on my heel.

He let me walk up the stairs, and did not follow, much to my surprise.

When I got to my apartment, the door was unlocked. I frowned, shaking my head. I could have sworn I locked it? But maybe in the heat of the moment with Matteo staring at me with those deep green eyes, I forgot. I stepped inside and locked it behind me, but the lock seemed jammed like it couldn’t lock all the way. I slammed it over, and it seemed to at least stick for now. I sighed, and before I could turn around, a chill went down my back.

I whipped around, more of my hair coming loose, and scanned the room. Nothing really seemed out of place, but I had a strange, uneasy feeling. For a moment I considered reaching into my purse and calling Matteo, but no, I didn’t even let him walk me up the stairs, and after tonight, my feelings were a mess.

Whenever he was near me, touched me, kissed me, my body exploded with feeling. His scent was intoxicating, and the feel of his hands grazing my skin set me on fire. I felt a very small, specific loneliness when I was away from him that I could hardly read into until he was back, and I felt full again. But he was so up and down. I didn’t understand how he could kiss me the way he did, before vanishing. I couldn’t understand and it...hurt. It hurt to think that I would never be enough for him. That maybe I even repulsed him.

He told me all about the fact that creatures- witches, werewolves, and vampires, hated each other for the most part. Or at least disliked each other.

Did Matteo dislike me?

The thought made me sad.

I went to the bedroom, and stripped off my clothes from the night, gently folding the dress, and setting it back inside the tissue paper-lined box. I wiped off my make up with a damp, warm, washcloth, and lay in my bed, staring out the window into the dusky night sky.

I fell asleep after hours of thinking of Matteo. His lips on mine. His eyes. His voice. His touch. And us.