Hue of Ochre (Alucard/Adrian Tepes x Reader)

VI. Flame And Breeze

VI. He instantly sprung from his resting place and ran to her room at lighting speed. He told her not to tear the stitches! Within a few seconds he was outside of her door once again, thanks to his supernatural speed. Quietly, he got to her bedside. She was asleep. Peacefully, calmly drifting to the world beyond this one. She was so…  No. This was not what you bargained for, he thought to himself, instead focusing on his objective; treating her wound. Had he not smelled her sensitive flesh breaking, her sweet blood escaping it, she could have suffered heavy hemorrhage in her sleep… or she could have managed to infect the fresh cut somehow! Either way, she’d be stranded with him for even longer and that was not part of the agreement he had made with himself. In fact, she was already overstaying her welcome. He could have just let her bleed out in the forest and she’d be gone in the morning, but he couldn’t. He just had to be the good samaritan. Both parts of him conflicting; human and monster but only one could win.

He was determined to get this over with quickly, the situation making him uneasy. He really was going to meddle with her unconscious body. Without her permission… But he had done it once already and the smell of fresh blood was driving him insane. He pulled her covers slowly so as to not wake her. Shit. She was naked. He had neglected that her borrowed clothes were folded neatly in the bottom of the bed. His first instinct was to look away but what good would that be? It wasn’t like she could see him. He could cover her up again, as if nothing ever happened and take care of her in the morning when she would be decent… But letting such a deep wound open for that long… He needn't remind himself what would happen to her. Or… to him.. 

He had decided to bite the bullet, it wasn’t like she had to know… Τhe lavender tea she drank before bed was probably enough to keep her asleep, should he be able to keep his movements steady. Worst case scenario he could hypnotize her… Such a vile ability he had in his possession… He focused on her injury, the gase binding it starting to darken around the broken stitches. Shit, plural. He'd have to undo the whole thing. Her sleep must have been a rather disturbed one, contrary to her now lucid state. It's the nightmares, he said to himself. He knew it. Getting terrorized by horrible images in his sleep, reliving gut wrenching experiences while desperately trying to escape them. In fact, those very nightmares kept him awake that very moment. He had retired sleeping, his vampire side allowing him to go without a consistent resting schedule for days on end. He was tired,though, exhausted even but giving in to the darkness, or what comes after it… That night. In his old bedroom…

He had to go get supplies… Within a few seconds he was back at her side again, all the necessary tools and mixtures gathered from his mother's storage. He began cutting the now soaked in blood bandage with a sharp, clean blade, carefully as not to touch the woman with its cold edges. The amount of blood spilling out of the laceration sent chills down his spine, its sweet smell flooding his nostrils… No… he mustn't… With the same blade he cut the old stitches, removing them with surgical precision. Quickly, he cleaned the dried blood with alcohol, paying extra attention when coming close to the opening. He had to numb it out, so any stinging and pain wouldn't wake her to find that the fearful dhampir had been tampering with her naked and unconscious body. He mixed the content of small bottles containing different herbs and medicine the same way he always had, following a recipe left in his mother's notes, into a thick paste. He applied the ointment on the wound, waiting for its numbing effects to work. In the meantime, his eyes traveled up and down the body laid under him. Warm, glowing skin, round, plumb breasts moving up and down in the rhythm of her breathing, rosey lips spread slightly open, humming softly. He caught himself biting his lower lip so hard that he drew blood, small bites developing under his sharp fangs. He promised he wouldn't…

He wiped the concentrated cream with a damp cloth and disinfected the open wound with alcohol. She was lucky she didn't break a bone. How had she not noticed a great wound such as this one? Adrenaline… He, then, threaded a sterilized needle and began stitching along the cut with expert movements. He had never done this on himself, his healing abilities deeming it an unnecessary way to earn a scar, but he had practiced on wounded animals in case he ever had to patch up… Whatever. They don't matter. I don't even know if I'm going to see them again… Let alone travel and fight alongside them…