Chapter 6: Sunset

“Where did you grow up?” Tommy asked.

Emilia was walking around the perimeter of Tommy’s loft, looking at each of the paintings that hung on the walls. She could tell based on the brush strokes and certain detail that these paintings had all been done by Tommy.

“You prize your own work above that of other artists?” she asked.

Tommy chuckled and Emilia looked over her shoulder at him. He was perched on a bar stool, a pencil and sketch pad in hand. He was sketching or writing things down. Emilia wasn’t sure.

“No, I just can’t afford real pieces by the artists I like, and having prints on my wall when I am an artist myself seems…empty,” he said. “Can you answer the question, please.”

Emilia looked back at the painting she was studying. It was a sunset over the ocean. The lighting on the water was perfect. Emilia couldn’t remember the last sunset she had seen, but the way Tommy’s paint had captured it was absolutely perfect.

“I grew up in Europe,” she said.

“Anywhere more specific?” the artist asked.

Emilia lifted her hand and touched the burning orb of light. It was harmless on canvas, but her eyes still instinctively pulled away from such a realistic rendition of sunlight.

When she’d been a girl, the land she’d grown up in hadn’t had a name, at least not the same one that it did now. Emilia had to wrack her brain to remember what the region was called to humans. Even though she’d lived in Europe after becoming a vampire, she hadn’t spent much time being part of the human culture.

“Norway,” she said.

“Norway, have you ever seen the northern lights?” Tommy inquired.

Emilia chuckled lightly. Without being able to go out during the daytime, the northern lights were the only light-based astronomical anomaly she could enjoy.

“Frequently,” she said.

Emilia felt Tommy’s warm body moving closer to her across the loft. With each step, she felt his heart beating through the floor. Even though she had eaten recently, her fangs ached with hunger again.

“What is it about that painting you’re enjoying so much?” he asked.

Emilia smiled and licked her lips.

“The sun,” she said. “It is so harmless in this painting. I can’t recall the last time I saw sunlight.”

“Harmless?” Tommy asked. “Are you sensitive to light? I mean, that would explain why you prefer meeting at night.”

Emilia turned around, finding Tommy standing very close to her. She could see his blood pumping beneath his skin, the way his arteries jumped against his neck, palms, and wrists.

“Yes, I’m sensitive to light,” she said.

“I have everything I need for the night,” Tommy said, holding up his notebook.

Emilia tilted her head to the side, giving him a sultry smile.

“Do you want to know me?” she asked.

Tommy’s eyes widened slightly at the proposition. He cleared his throat and took a step back.

“You’re an incredibly beautiful woman,” he told her.

Emilia bit her lower lip. “You’re the one who said you had to know your subjects,” she reminded him.

Tommy chuckled and shook his head. “This is a professional arrangement,” he said.

Emilia took a step forward. She placed her hands on Tommy’s shoulders. Despite his hesitation, he wasn’t pulling away.

“You’re not planning on painting tonight, and I’m not posing,” she pointed out.

Tommy gave a scoff, but he smiled. He tossed his sketch pad and pencil aside before placing his hands on her hips. The silk dress Emilia was wearing warmed under his touch and slid erotically against her skin.

“Are you cold?” the artist asked her, creasing his brow.

“I won’t be,” Emilia told him.

Careful to use her own strength instead of using his soft, human body as leverage, Emilia lifted herself on tip toes and pressed her lips to Tommy’s. He grunted and kissed her back, bringing one hand to the back of her head, cradling it softly.

Emilia pulled back from him, his gentleness surprising her. She’d expected an artist of such passion to be ravenous. That was what she was used to. Tommy raised an eyebrow at her.

“You’re not what I expected,” she admitted.

“Neither are you,” Tommy countered. When he kissed her again, she didn’t pull away.

Emilia’s stomach fluttered and the heat from Tommy’s body spread over her. She blocked out the sound of his pounding heart and rushing blood, focusing on the way his fingers tightened around the silk of her dress and how his other hand gently massaged her scalp.

Tommy pulled Emilia against his body. She nipped at his lower lip and he grunted, pleased.

Hands on her hips, he tugged her back towards his bed. He slipped his fingers through the straps of her dress, sliding them off her shoulders. Emilia shuddered as the silk slid off her arms and the rest of the sheath fluttered down her body into a pool on the floor.

Emilia’s fingers swiftly undid the buttons on Tommy’s shirt. He pushed her gently onto the bed and Emilia grabbed the waist of his pants, tugging him closer. He grinned at her, unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the floor.

Tommy crawled onto the bed towards her. It had been a long time since Emilia had truly felt another man’s touch. It was the heat of his skin she craved most, the subtle roughness in his hands from the work he did. That was what she wanted to feel covering her.

Emilia put a hand on the back of Tommy’s head. She leaned back on his pillows, wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling him down to her.

Legs tangled in white, cotton sheets, Emilia felt her skin humming and singing like never before.

Tommy was lying on his back, breathing heavily as he stared up at the ceiling. He reached to the bedside table and grabbed a cigarette, sparking it and propping up the pillows behind his head.

Emilia propped herself up on her elbow, facing Tommy.

He blew out a puff of smoke, the stuffy smelling plume floating up to the high ceilings.

Tommy’s jugular continued to throb. Emilia’s stomach shriveled up, completely dried out. Her fangs ached and even pressing her tongue against them wouldn’t alleviate the pain.

Playfully, Emilia swung a leg over Tommy’s hips. She pulled the sheet up around her shoulders and straddled him, putting her hands against his muscular, warm chest. He wasn’t chiseled and sculpted like she was used to, but he had an athletic build.

Emilia took a moment to run her fingers through the lines of his muscles.

“You still feel cold,” he told her.

Emilia smirked. “Watch this,” she said.

Leaning down, Emilia covered Tommy’s chest with her body. She kissed him on the mouth first, then kissed his jawline and his neck. She placed another kiss on his throat.

With each kiss, Tommy’s body flared with heat, causing Emilia to giggle lightly.

She opened her mouth and pressed her fangs against Tommy’s skin. They easily sliced through his epidermis.

It was easy enough to feed without the process being painful, but Emilia rarely got the chance. Her prey had to be in the right frame of mind – relaxed, full of endorphins – and the afterglow of sex was the perfect time.

Emilia had limited experience in such situations with humans.

She fed slowly so it wouldn’t startle Tommy. He sighed, a sound that devolved into a moan, and he brought his hand to the back of Emilia’s head, gently rubbing her scalp.

Emilia pulled back. She licked her lips, her skin warmer and flushed pink after feeding. She had hardly taken enough to weaken him, but she knew Tommy would feel unusual.

“What was that?” he asked. He touched her cheek with his thumb. “You’re not so pale anymore. And you feel warmer.”

“You wanted to know me,” she said. “This is who I am, what I am.”

“What you are?” Tommy asked. He brought his hand to his neck and felt the bite mark. Shock flickered across his face when he pulled his hand away and saw the blood.

“I’m a vampire, Tommy,” Emilia said.

Tommy’s eyes settled back on Emilia.

“No way,” he said with a scoff and an eye roll.

Emilia creased her brow, emphasizing her seriousness.

“Really,” she said with a nod.

Emilia pulled her lips back, showing Tommy her fangs. Again, he touched his neck.

“What!?” he gasped, sitting up so abruptly, Emilia was almost thrown off his lap.