Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Purple equals past, present, future. Also sex dreams. Which aren’t dreams, but kind of are… so… yeah. I’ve got way more purple than I need.
And now, gold equals food. As in I am the food.
“So.” Ryet is smiling and walking towards me. He pans his arms out, presenting his cabin. “What do you think?”
“It’s really nice.” I look around. Turning in a slow circle to take it all in. And it is nice. It’s very log cabin-y on the inside. Wide-plank wood floors, cotton-rag rugs, couches that don’t have drink holders, and an entire color wheel of neutral colors. Browns, and warm grays, and off-whites.
Even though we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks, it’s the kind of work I’ve come to expect from him. Lots of wood paneling, and logs, and it’s clearly been made with care.
Care is a good word for Ryet. He’s careful. Very careful. He likes details. Not just in the craftsmanship of his woodwork or bathroom renovations, but in his choice of words, the way he approaches people, and how he, even now, keeps a certain distance from me.
I look back at him and that gold wave is coming right at me with an ever-increasing intensity. “You’re hungry.” I don’t ask it as a question. I already know and I don’t feel like wasting time with words that don’t matter.
He doesn’t say anything, just shrugs up his shoulders while looking me in the eyes.
“It’s OK. I get it. You need to eat.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. I wish it wasn’t like this.”
“But it is.” I offer him a smile. It comes out small, so I make it bigger. None of this is his fault. It’s not my fault, either. It’s just… reality now. He needs to eat and I am his food. “Where should we do it?”
Ryet looks around, then offers up the couch. “How about right there?”
It’s as good a place as any, so I walk over and sit down as Ryet crosses the room and joins me. Feeding him was different in the truck. When he was asleep, he would wake up just enough to grab at me. He wasn’t strong enough to force me to feed him. So he didn’t… like… pull me out of my seat, or anything. I just leaned over, and he just latched on to my neck. The feedings were quick, too. Painful, as well. But it was a minute or two of sucking and then he’d be full, or whatever, and he’d slump back into his seat, falling back into unconsciousness.
But since he woke up the feedings have been different. They’re still short. He doesn’t take a lot. And if he hadn’t been doing that all along, I’d assume that he was cutting them short on purpose for my benefit. But they’ve always been quick, so I don’t think he needs much blood. He just needs it frequently. They’re less painful, at least. In fact, sometimes it’s a little bit erotic. The feeling of blood being pulled out of me… I dunno. It’s a trigger, I think. Something hormonal, maybe. Because it makes me want him. It makes me want to feed him.
There’s a bit of awkwardness as we look at each other, neither of us really sure how to make this less uncomfortable.
Ryet tries a smile. “Hi.”
Which makes me smile. “Hi.”
“I’m sorry—”
I put up a hand. “Just… don’t. There’s no point in apologizing. It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault. And there’s nothing we can do about it. You can feed off me or… take your chances on what happens if you don’t. I’m not recommending that, by the way. Whatever those consequences are, I’m absolutely sure it will be much worse than… this.” I make a little gesture to the two of us. “And I guess I could refuse to feed you. But you must have it, Ryet. And if I say no, then…”
I don’t finish. I don’t need to. If I don’t feed him willingly, he’ll just take it from me.
I am his food.
It’s not personal, it’s just nature. It’s survival. If I were starving and saw a hen, for instance, I could catch it, and keep it as a pet, and eat the eggs. We could be friends. Companions. But if it stopped laying eggs, what choice would I have? I would kill it. And then consume it. It’s just survival.
Ryet sighs. “I don’t understand it all yet. But I’m going to figure it out. And part of that is figuring out how to free you from this.”
It takes a real effort not to scoff at his proclamation, or whatever it is. But I manage. And I force a smile too. “Here.” I lean towards him, moving my hair aside so he can have access to my neck. “Go ahead.”
“Come on, now. We can do better than this.” He says this easily. Lightly. Like feeding him my blood can be fun.