${fontLinkMarker}
[socialicon start]
${socialicon}
[socialicon end]
[logo start]
${logo 100x100 resizable}
[logo end]
[sitename start]

${sitename}

[sitename end] [caption start]
${caption}
[caption end]
[search start]
[searchform start] [searchform end]
[search end]

Moment in Time
by Hannurdock

Rating: PG13/SLASH


Disclaimers: The characters from the Chronicles belong to Anne Rice.

These stories are purely for pleasure and 'What if's'. 

Nothing is meant to infringe upon the author's rights.

I am doing this for fun and I love sharing my stories with others.





A hushed whisper. A golden laugh. Soft smile with vicious fangs gleaming at me dangerously beneath the rosy red lips. Reddened by the blood he has drank this evening.

A heated glance my way. Eyes violet, dangerous.

He wants me!

All other noises fade into the background, all other thoughts perish. He steps toward me, his gaze soft in its love and adoration.

He rakes his hand through my hair and sighs. His eyes close in satisfaction and contentment "Beautiful one ....."

He's never normally this open to me, this affectionate. I feel his breath on my forehead, lust of the God. Pushing me gently back to the wall, so we are pressed against it. Trapped by his love, his lust.

"Bite me" He whispers.

"You know I can't" I say, my gasp of disappointment threatening to make my eyes spill with blood tears.

"Take it, be strong" He says, ever more softly. His lips brushing my throat.

Panicking, I push him away.

Cold, violet eyes glare at me. He turns away in disappointment.

"Lestat ...." I moan, trying to make him see my argument, see my view.

But he is already gone.

Flying somewhere, to take his rage out on a victim, no doubt.

Instead of me. Where his rage could be replaced by discussion. By talking. How I want this for us, for Lestat has no idea of my fears, my belief's, my joys and sorrows.

There it is, a moment in time.  A moment for reflection. How could I have handled things better? Should I have let him bite me? Should I have drank my fill back?

Door slams. Front door. He is back, and his eyes tell me he has been weeping. His vision cloudy with blood tears, streaks down his face.

He is looking at me, lost to me in his own private thoughts.

"Why, Louis?"

Miserably depressed, I turn away from him.

When I look back, he has not moved, nor does he intend to.

He wants an answer.

He will not leave until he get's one.

"Do you not find me attractive?" He asks in a whisper. "Is that the problem? Has that always been the problem?"

I sigh. My eyes are red as blood. He knows this is hurting me deeply. Struggling to find the right words, I watch as he advances toward me and gestures for me to sit on the sofa.

I do as he requests without argument. He takes both my hands in his and looks at me kindly.

"Everything will be fine" He assures me "Even if I don't like what you have to say".

I am on the brink of confessing my most private thoughts to him. He is waiting so patiently, waiting for me to reply without any further words.

But I can't let  myself go that far. If I do confess, I may become weak and ask for Lestat's more powerful blood. Something I must never do, in fear that I may lose myself.

"Its not that I do not find you attractive" I say finally. "Its something within me. When you press me against the wall and ask me to drink from you, you have no idea how attractive that is to me. But, I can't do it. I will lose myself, I know I will".

"I understand" Lestat says softly, pulling me into his arms. I am shaking, my hands are icy. He wraps his arms around me and kisses my damp forehead, licking away the blood sweat.

"Do you, do you really?" I clasp his hands tightly, my shaking alarming my maker more than my confession. "I cannot accept, and it is torture that you keep asking me".

"I'm sorry" Lestat says, his arms once again encircling me, keeping me safe within them. "I had no idea. I didn't mean to make you hurt inside. But you do need to tell me these things, tell me when I'm messing up. I can't read your mind now. I need to know these things from you".

Sighing, I lie down in his arms. I rest my head on his shoulder.  He keeps me warm, keeps me safe.

"Then, if you cannot take my blood ...." Lestat pauses. Unsure.

I smile through my tears "I would let you drink from me if you wanted that".

"I do want that" Lestat says, leaning forward. He bends towards me, as if I am a victim, and gently and so painlessly drinks from me. So sweet and soft, swooning in his arms like this. Trusting. Knowing he will never let me fall.

"Yes, that's right" Lestat says against my neck. "I will never let you fall".

"How did you know I was thinking that?" I mumble as he bites down once again.

*I can read your thoughts when your blood is flowing into me, as if you were a victim. The veil of silence is lifted for a few precious moments and I can see why you do not wish to drink of me. I will never ask you again, I promise. But the offer is always open to you, you know that* Lestat moves away and smiles at me.

"I know" I say softly, sorely tempted to accept regardless of the consequences.

But I know better than to give in to impulse.

I sit with him, his arms around me as I drift into a soft swoon-induced sleep.

Lestat, he keeps me safe in his arms until sunrise, and then takes me to bed where he drifts into the death sleep with me safely tucked into his arms.

I dream of Lestat, and Lestat alone.

And I dream of our next moment in time.



THE END

[footer start] [footer end]