Easier said than done!!
There was a time when I was young, that I was grossed out by the pooling butter on my bread that I vomitted no matter how I tried to keep it under. I was really not a fan of salty and thick-gooey texture. And right now, this reminds me of that;
I kept my head up as I gulped the contents trying not to be overly nauseated, afraid that I might get punished by the King who's lap I was perched on. His warm hands drawing circles on my hips as I feel his intense gaze towards me.
Easier said than done!
The thick and salty taste remained on my tongue, there's a coppery and iron tang that added to my disgust. The thought of it being blood from a werewolf is not really helping. It was gut-churning, sick-making, vomitous.
So I retched. At his tshirt, at his chest.
I retched so hard my chest hurts. I emptied out even the contents that I had for breakfast. Surprisingly, I'm not even embarrassed as I stared at the vomit at his shirt, I was glad instead--- I was relieved that I had evicted what makes my stomach upset.
My smile fell as I look up to his face. He was looking at me with a gaze I cannot quiet comprehend; is he mad or is he not? I don't know, but one thing I know is I vomitted at him. At his chest. At the King.
I scrambled so fast, I forgot I'm supposedly injured as I stood, my mouth opening and closing unsure on what to say. I should say sorry, but my body refused to even utter the word. And did I say I'm not embarrassed? Well, I'm ashamed.
"I -- uhmm-- I -- You---" My ears is warm and I know my face is red.
A clap saves me from further embarrassment, no matter how annoyed from Luke's pestering for days, or for bringing up the blood in the first place, I can't help but be glad to him right now as he steps forward, pushing me towards Denv, who gestures me towards the bathroom. I was stiff, and the feeling from before has never left me completely as I was a confused mess until I was in the bathroom and the room was closing.
"You look good in my clothes."
Yet, I still heard him. And I saw how his sinful lips formed a smirk then he flashed a devilish smile as the door closes.
His name is Lance. He was Lance. And I'm flabbergasted how casually Denv mention his name when he told me about the clothes I'm wearing.
The idea sank in my brain - too slow for liking - that I undressed faster that I have ever before. The soaked fabric feels crawling on my skin, that I never wanted to touch or even get close enough to any of it.
"I should shower." I murmured at the gray tshirt with red stain on the bathroom floor but one look at the mirror got me screaming on my lungs as I took a step backwards nearly tripping myself.
The door burst open with a worried face of a man I have never seen before; huffing like he ran a marathon. He took one look from me then growled so loud I heard multiple feet stops.
"Are you fine?" He asked, gazed focused solely on my face. His body told me he wants to come closer, his palms open as if telling me he means no harm.
"My eyes." I nearly screamed at him which made him flinch. "Look at my eyes. They're weird." I continue with heavy breathing.
"I think it's beautiful." He answered with an assuring smile I didn't know it will suit his manly face.
"My eyes are glowing- yellow and green." I nearly screeched. "My eyes are dark and dull. They're not supposed to glow."
Right now I was already calm but still freaked out by the sudden changes in my appearance. My skin is glowing , my hair's luster, my eyes are the vibrant colors; like a swirling yellow and greens, like the eyes of a werewolf before it shifted. My lips are stained with blood, it runs through my chin and neck, it reminds me of a wolf that got its kill.
"That's normal when you drank a blood from a werewolf." He said with a smile. "You should clean up, and sleep. When you wake up, that should be gone." He reassured, flashing me a genuine smile.
I took one look in the mirror before sighing, "Yes. I should."
"Are you fine on your own or . . .?" He asked, dragging the word enunciating something.
Surprisingly, his presence doesn't disturb me at all. I'm not even self-concious as I stood infront of him practically naked in my underwear. Maybe, because his eyes stayed strain on my face, and he was talking like he had that respect attached to his being.
So I just nodded. "Should you need any help, feel free to ask. We're just outside." Then he closed the door. Probably, still guarding.
"I never got to asked his name." If I ever wanted a man, a man like him is what I want. Gentle, respectful and . . .
Maybe I should just say yes when he offered, then maybe pretend to be scared and a damsel who cannot stand properly--- I shook my head at that thought before glancing at my now fully healed knees. It was an angry black and blue before that I need to take a lot of painkiller to numb the pain, I can't even stand and crawl instead, but right now, It was healed like it was never swollen in the first place.
Their blood really heals.
Scanning myself in the mirror made me cringed once I finished my shower. I feel brand new, like I had a major make over kinda feeling of brand new, which scares me since my eyes reminds me of the King and his smirk before the door closes.
There's was something that's bothering me, thoughts that's gnawning in my stomach, clawing on my mind. Feelings so foreign to me that build up inside me. What's more frightening is realizing these emotions aren't mine.
This anger, hatred, sorrow, pain and revenge made me cry. As well as this obssessiveness and posessiveness that creeps up from time to time made me want to lock myself up or to runaway. It confuses my senses as I stood infront of the mirror with the King clothes since I didn't even have other things to wear-- wallowing myself from I don't even know.
"Do you too?" I asked. "Do you also feel what I feel?"
It feels like I was bonded.
