His Breath

‘Can you save me from myself?’ His tone was sarcastic as he breathed out the words with his cigarette smoke. When my reply did not come he looked up. ‘That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be my personal saviour. Make me see the error of my ways, repent of my sins.’
‘I didn’t say-, I just mean that-’. I tried to stammer an answer, but he was right: I did want to save him. I wanted him to be mine.
He came towards me now, and lowered his face so that the tips of his hair almost touched my forehead. ‘I know what you meant, Lyssa. You said that I need to be saved from myself.’ His breath was exquisitely cold on my clammy skin; it’s sweet scent mingled with the smell of cigarettes to create a heady fragrance that intoxicated me. His eyes, too, held me enthralled. They were deep, dark, with a hint of amber and something else. He smirked as, again, I failed to reply.
‘You don’t know what I am, Lyssa.’ He turned away from me to lean against the window frame.
‘Show me.’ As soon as I spoke the words, I felt something twist in the pit of my stomach, and regretted them. He looked at me, penetratingly, causing my heart to sprint. It was at that moment that I recognised the expression in his eyes: Hunger.
‘Come here.’ He almost whispered the words. Some skip in my heart’s beating, some echo in my brain, told me not to obey him. He held out his hand to me and I took it. Like a magnet I was drawn to him. I could almost feel the shuddering force with which his body pulled me in. The blinds of the window were closed, letting not a glimmer of light through. The cord dangled by my elbow. In one swift movement he had removed his shirt. ‘Pull it.’ He said, indicating the cord. Again unable to disobey, I tugged the cord until each horizontal piece of material parted and let through the pinkish glare of sunset. Suddenly the dark room was full of light, but not entirely from the window; his body, once milky pale and smooth, now blazed with the light of a million stars. I gasped, and flinched away from him. Grabbing my wrist almost painfully he pulled me back. Gently directing my hand, he caressed his cheek with my fingers. The light was so bright and fierce that I expected it to feel hot, but instead his skin was icy. He trailed my hand along his jaw and down his neck, and never took his eyes from my face. I gazed in awe at the figure I was touching. If gods exist, this is what they look like. He let go of my hand and allowed it to make it’s own way down his body. Hardly thinking, my fingers traced spirals on his chest and shoulders. He stepped out of the light. The stars were extinguished, and his body was milky white once again. I caught my breath, released from the trance.
‘Who are you?’ I whispered.
‘You mean what am I.’ He held my stare for several seconds, before turning away from me and lighting another cigarette. ‘I’m hungry. Stay here if you want.’ He pulled his shirt back over his head, and stalked across the floor. The door slammed with a bang, making me jump.
His presence had seemed to supress all of my thoughts, but now that he was gone they cluttered my brain and jostled for attention. I pressed my hands to my forehead as if that would help to clear them; who, and more importantly what was this beautiful, cold, tranquilizing man? What gave him this power over me? But, whether it was right or wrong, there was one thing that overpowered all of it: I wanted him. And I thought that he wanted me.
I waited almost two hours for him to come back. My heart leapt when I heard his footsteps on the stairs outside. But they were accompanied by a high-pitched giggle.
The door opened, and a tall girl with long blonde hair backed into the room. He followed closely, with one hand on her waist. Her giggling stopped abruptly as he whispered something in her ear. Her face fell as she turned and saw me.
I composed myself surprisingly quickly, brushing away the thoughts I had been entertaining. ‘Do you mind if I take a shower?’ I said quickly.
As soon as I was in the bathroom, I sunk against the door. I had been so sure. So sure that it was me he wanted.
How could I have been so short sighted? He was something beautiful, something out of this world. Literally.
The hot water was soothing when I stepped in. I hugged my bare skin and leant my forehead against the wall of the shower, letting the water cascade over me. I’m not sure how long I was there for. All of the tension melted away from my body, and I started to drift off.
Cold slid around my stomach, squeezing and pulling me away from the shower wall. It pulled me against the hard pillar of his body. I turned around to gaze into his eyes. Deep, hot honey coloured.
I sank against him as his lips brushed my forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin, until I sought them with my own. But he did not allow me this. Instead, he pushed me hard against the shower tiles with his hips. I wrapped my legs around his torso. As the pain erupted, he gripped my shoulders and pressed me tightly against his chest.
As he came away from me my senses seemed to return. I felt fire. Fire. Everywhere, fire. Inside me, creeping through my body. Unbearable pain. The water still ran as I crouched in the shower, but it had turned red. Red liquid leaked from all over my body.
I screamed. Where was he?
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to let you feel the pain anymore.’ His voice, clear despite the rush in my ears. He was right, the pain was ebbing away.
Cool relief swept through my veins. It was numbing. I had felt this before. When I was younger, I had to have an operation. This was just like that. Everything was sleepily cloudy, and I was getting further and further away from it.
His breath was the last thing now. His sweet, bitter breath lingering on my lips. My last emotion was one of comfort. Comfort in the knowledge that his would be the last breath I felt.