Sanguine - Aro Volturi

Chapter thirty

Her fingertips were as soft as flower petals, her skin warm like sunshine, every touch held a heat that spread across my skin like ripples on the surface of a pond.

We were reading. Her legs bent over mine and her knees acting as a prop for both of us. The pre-course reading list had been sent a few weeks ago, of course I had made arrangements for all the listed books plus others to be ordered, and now her small apartment was teaming with hardcover prints.

Her left hand was stretched along her side, the tips of her fingers playing along the edge of my palm, the rhythm ebbed and flowed as her concentration varied from paragraph to paragraph, but she never broke contact, using her free right hand to turn the pages.

I had promised not to be a distraction during these 'study periods', so always made myself look busy. However, in peaceful moments like these I could never adsorb the content of what I put in front of myself, instead I allowed myself to become lost in the gentle caresses she gave, and the richness of her scent that always overwhelmed me when we were so close.

Her fingers stopped moving and I raised my eyes to see her head tilted back onto the cushions she'd piled behind her. I smiled, she'd read herself to sleep.

Carefully I lifted the books from their resting places and hooked my arms beneath her body. As I stood she stirred, her eyes blinking open with a dazed murmur. "Where are we going?"

"To bed," I answer.

"Oh," she yawns widely. "I need a shower, I need to shower first."

Stepping through to her bedroom I place her on the edge of the bed as she yawns again, her hand shielding her face.

"I'll be quick." She shakes her head to wake herself up before pulling the towel down from the top of the bathroom door and disappearing inside. The door didn't shut fully, leaving a sliver of space for the shower steam to escape and my eye to catch the reflection of the shower in the mirror above the sink.

Her bare arms raised to sweep her hair into a loose up-do before she stepped behind the shower screen. I turned away. Not wanting to invade her privacy anymore than I already had. Pulling back the duvet there were two sets of neatly folded pyjamas.

Only last week was I presented with a set of pyjamas, purchased as a present as Celestine had declared that regardless of my inability to actually sleep, laying in bed in a shirt and suit trousers was unacceptable. The set now folded on the bed were a dark grey, the bottoms patterned with lots of small bats and a short sleeved t-shirt which had a larger bat with a comical smile depicted across the chest.

By the time the shower shut off I was changed and had propped myself against the headboard.

"You look cosy," she smiles. Her cheeks were flushed pink, small fly-away strands of her hair damp from the steam and water spray, I could see the corners of her eyes were red with tiredness and a few soap bubbles linger on her right shoulder.

"You've missed a bit," I signal to her shoulder.

Her hand swipes the bubbles away as she collects her pyjamas with the other. "I seem to be biased to my left," she shrugs and retreats back into the bathroom.

I hadn't spent much time in human company since I myself was a human. It was odd listening to Celestine's daily life and her little fidgets, she hummed, she sniffed, she clicked her tongue, she stroked her hair, she tapped her nails, she huffed her breath seemingly randomly at times. Now she was brushing her teeth, I could hear the bristles scratching over her teeth, but even during this task she was tinkering around. Her humming was muffled and I didn't recognise the tune, and she was drawing shapes in the drops of water in the sink, the pad of her finger squeaking against the porcelain.