OWARI no SERAPH: I am just a FILTHY vampire « Mikaela/Reader »

I AM JUST A FILTHY VAMPIRE (6)

"Can I ask you something?" She asked, grimacing in pain.

"...." 

"You are so un-talkative."

"....."

"Really though. Can I ask you something?" This time, her voice almost faded away, it immediately caught his attention.

"...What..?" 

"I-" Coughed, coughed, "Pardon me," Whispered the girl, hands covering her mouth, and sighed, "What is your name..?"

"...None of your business."

"..." She glanced at him, and so did he, ashen eyes replaced with nonchalant grey, shimmering blue replaced with disinterested azure. Hm. Her stare was cold, though wasn't intentionally cold, her face somehow lacked the mobility others had. Her eyes would rest on his face, and she'd stay staring longer than the average person would. It was like the elongated eye contact  demanded a greater degree of physical separation. It wasn't something she'd ever notice herself, but to him, it was obvious and he felt a link of connection between him and this woman for they were...identical. Cold. Disinterested. Nonchalant. Everything.

"Well.." She exhaled a long sigh, "My name is-" Coughed. Hacked. Again. Repeatedly. Annoyingly.

"I couldn't just-" Interupted again by coughing. She was coughing. It was a whooping cough for sure. She was hacking continuously for a while then taking in a sharp gasp of breath. Her casual laughter died fast and soon enough, the crimson liquid filled her mouth, trickled down against her pale cheeks, silently marked itself on the ground like millions of red flowers blooming, the droplets of blood fell to the road and created a path. Yet, even though there was a path, no one would see it nor follow it. 

Mika frowned. The air was perfumed by the heavy scent of the blood. The sweet, savory aroma wafted through the frosty winter air. He gulped, throat clenched with hunger at the thought of sweet, luscious blood and its intoxicating taste.  He felt as if his lungs were slowly filling with water, as if there was just less space in them for the air. Inflating them felt like pushing up a lead weight on his chest. He gasped quietly and sucked in the air as if it were treacle, he needed to breathe, before he lost control and freed his lust on the injured woman. Focus. Mika. Focus. 

"H..Hey-" She coughed again, hands covering her mouth, violently, sounded loose and wet, like thick phlemy mucus was sliding up and down her throat with each violent expulsion of air, hacking and wheezing.By slow, torturous degrees, the coughs eased in intensity and then slowly, slowly passed.

He fixed his gaze on her, frowning obviously. Oh..Shit. Her face was pure white, the color of a moonbeam, or an ivory carving. A snowy face, very beautiful, like the crescent moon shining above. She looked like a porcelain doll--he worried that she'd shatter if she fell. But she was dead quiet. Too quiet. Too terrifying. The darkness that now shrouded the face of the young woman was far more than just the absence of light. It was thick and heavy, interlaced with the stench of death, and broken by the screaming silence of sorrow. It was like a toxin that poisoned her blood. The silence surrounded her like a fresh, pristine, white blanket of snow on a winter day. The silence entered her soul like Hades, filling in the roughness of the pain. Silence surrounded them, deadly awaited.

She fainted.

"...." 

Mika's eyes darkened in concern. She fainted. Due to the blood losing? If that was the cause then...She could really die. Right now. In his arms. Darkness washed over them sending another chill down his spine. But it wasn't a chill of passion. It was a chill of fear. The same fear he had before he lost his family.

"Fuck."

He growled, biting his lips. He hated to use this amazingly flexible ability of a vampire but as the life fluid drained out of her in its garish red, her skin took on the pallor of a corpse. Her stomach felt sick and then one by one she lost control of her limbs until finally her head slumped. She could still hear, but she could control none of her body. Then, like a ghost, she slipped into a coma with death not far away, Mika couldn't help himself but breaking the rule; and pushed his body forward, heading to Ferid's mansion as fast as possible.

This isn't just happening. This isn't ju- 

He was afraid of losing her. He was feeling...fear. 

"Fear is an illusion, but not an amusing one brought about by a conjuring trick. Fear locks onto what you love most and makes you terrified of loss of Love. It taunts you that the harder you love now, the more pain and trauma will be there latter on. It cuts us off from Love. In this state of fear we are easy prey to hate, greed, anger, loneliness, despair."

He was feeling fear.

He doesn't want to lose her.

He just doesn't want death to take her away from him.

He wants her to stay, despite the fact that he was a filthy creature, and she was an elegant human. This border between them, he dared not to break, but, he desired her. Bad. And he wants her to stay alive. He wants to know more. He wants to find more. 

Fuck it.

Mikaela broke into Ferid Bathory's mansion.

To be continued...