Aidan

Aidan felt the blood warming his body. The young man he had chosen was drunk and stumbling his way home in the muddy street when he attacked him. Not very differently than Aidan himself when he had been turned centuries ago. Except for the fact that Aidan had no intention to create another vampire. He was there for the kill, for the blood. He didn't even seduce his victims as Stanislas used to do. Aidan was ruthless and efficient.

However, while he was drinking from the human, his mind flickered. He thought about the blond vampire he had left, sleeping in his bed, to go out hunting in the night. He thought about James stroking his hair, his legs entangled with Aidan's; he thought about the sound of his heart beating in his chest while he was holding him.

This second time they had seen each other, they hadn't talked much more than the first time. But they had gone back to Aidan's place, a dark apartment with the bare essentials. Aidan did not care about it. As a matter of fact, he didn't care about anything. This apartment was enough to survive. Aidan could see the surprise in James' look, when he had scanned the place. It had made him wonder about the living conditions of the younger vampire. James seemed to have his fair share of tragedies. Did he live alone?

They had slept together, their bodies magnetized one to the other. There was still this urgency they could not escape, but they had taken the time to explore each other. And when it had been over, Aidan didn't want James to leave. There was something infectious in having this presence beside him, this warmth.

This time Aidan had asked. "Stay," he had said.

And the younger vampire had stared at him for a moment with some sort of distrust in his eyes. Of course, he was right not to trust him. He was a killer, and that was the only thing he was capable of.

But James had stayed.

"Are you... alone?" Aidan had asked him.

"There is no one in my life, no, if it's what you mean."

"No... I mean, yes. But I was not talking about this," Aidan had said, waving his hand between them. "I meant: do you know other vampires?"

"I don't. I avoid them."

"I understand." Aidan's eyes were locked on James. He had wanted to tell him about Stanislas, he had wanted to ask him about his own sire. But he couldn't. He was too afraid to scare the younger vampire away with intrusive questions. And James didn't seem ready to share either.

So they had just stayed together, lying in bed, until James had fallen asleep.

That's when Aidan left the apartment to hunt. He didn't want James to see him. He couldn't imagine anyone witnessing the ugliest part of him. He wanted to be alone with his guilt.

The body of the young man started to collapse into his arms, as life was leaving him. Aidan's hand still supported his head, and the other one was wrapped around his waist, preventing him from falling, now his knees had buckled. His weight was nothing for him, especially now he had fresh blood circulating in his body. But that was it, there was nothing more to drink.

Aidan lifted his head, wiped his mouth, and placed the corpse on the ground, against the wall. He disguised the wound with a large cut from a knife. Sometimes he would just destroy the body, leave it in the Thames or burn it into a fire. Sometimes, he could just leave it in the street. Tonight, he wanted to come back to James as soon as possible.

But when he entered his room, the bed was empty and the younger vampire was gone.