April 23rd, 1946
Forgive my absence in writing, Journal. The past week was a blur and last night
remains an impossible dream. I know I
have written that my relationship with Cyrus has been terrible lately. It was all my doing. In my quest to be gone of his company I
have done multiple things that I regret.
I attempted many times in a few months to rid myself of my need for his
blood. This led to massive withdrawal
symptoms and quite a lot of angry, hysterical and just plain ridiculous fits on
my part.
I have struck him, cursed him, and probably done worse that
I simply cannot remember. Still, my
Cyrus stuck by me and would always end up finding a way to force me back into
his thrall. Each time I would be at my
worst, he would somehow end up administering blood to me. The chills, shakes, hallucinations and other
such would subside and I could function again.
Our lives might be tolerable for a short while, until his presence
stabbed too much at my heart and the cycle began anew.
However, I believe the cycle of dysfunction has finally
stopped. Though we are hardly perfect,
what happened over the course of twenty four hours was nothing short of the
miracle I have dreamt since we first met.
It began as it always did.
I declared a stop to drinking his blood and after a few days the
withdrawals started. Within a week I was
almost too sick to function. We had
thankfully stopped at a beautiful oasis in the desert and were not likely to
leave for some time. I used this to
rationalize the detox. Still, trying to
rid myself of such a strong dependence in a desert climate is nothing short of
suicidal. I’m a doctor and I know full
well what I was doing was self-destructive.
I do not rightly recall how it began. I believe I was having a fit of either
nightmares or perhaps all-out hallucinations.
I had been drinking heavily a few hours before, I do remember that. Whatever caused him to enter my tent, he
claimed I was screaming and crying. He
tried to talk me down; tried to talk sense into me about the dangers of what I
was doing.
There was something about the closeness of us within my tent
that sent me into a panic. He was
holding me against his chest and tenderly cupping my cheek. My stomach squirmed and my body reacted in
kind. I wanted him and I became fearful
he would notice my arousal. I think I
may have even been crying. I screamed at
him, probably babbled incoherently if I were to be truthful.
He released me and I ran from my tent down to the edge of
the water of the oasis. I splashed the
cool water onto my face, trying to rid myself of my impure thoughts. As I stood there, ankle deep in water with
the moon above, I caught sight of my own reflection. I looked frightful. My eyes were ringed in black, my face was
drawn, and I was suddenly aware of how much weight I have lost in the past few
months. I was staring at myself and I
could no longer deny that I was actively trying to commit suicide.
I gave a juvenile kick at the water and drew back to
collapse into the sand upon my knees.
Angrier at myself than I can ever recall being, I reached to the
waistband of my sleeping clothes. I keep
a little pouch tucked to me with a few bandages, some salve and a scalpel. It’s a sort of an impromptu first aid kit in
case I am roused in the middle of the night and do not have time to grab
anything proper. At any rate, I was
after the scalpel. After all, if I have spent
all this time trying to kill myself, why not just get it over with hm?
Of course, Cyrus was close on my heels. The moment the thought had crossed my mind he
was there. I felt an arm about my waist
and a hand reach to grip me by the wrist.
We struggled in the sand with me claiming I wasn’t going to do
anything. I’m not sure if that was true
or not. I probably would not have had
the courage to actually cut myself. That
is the irony of it.
He tore the scalpel from my hand and tossed it away. We struggled some more and he growled. It was a low and dangerous sound, causing me
to freeze up and stop. I could see he
regretted instantly having made such a forceful movement towards me. He held me and apologized. That is when my world began to spiral out of
control.
Again he was touching me and I felt my heart might explode. My eyes filled with tears and I writhed in his
arms pathetically. He told me that I was
breaking his heart. Not only that, he
went on further to state that he cared for me and did not wish to see me hurt
or suffering. He told me he understood
what it was like to feel like a monster but also a man and then he said if I
were to succeed in killing myself that a part of him would surely die with me.
When he touched me then, it was far more intimate. His thumb ghosted across my bottom lip and I
was unable to stave off the wanton trembles in my body. I believe I even blurted out I could not come
to terms with my wants. I suppose he
must have finally realized what he meant to me, because before I could manage
to suck in a breath, his hands were fisted in my hair and his lips were crushed
against mine.
All of my life a part of me has been holding back my
lips. My body, mind and spirit have been
searching for someone for whom my kiss belonged. When Cyrus’ lips came into contact with mine,
a jolt seized hold of my entire being. I
gasped and arched against him, feeling his tongue invade my mouth and explore. My mouth was his and I know it always has
been. He is the vampire to which I have
always belonged. There was no denying
it, despite how my mind wanted to protest.
I babbled some ridiculous protests about men with men being
wrong, I think I may have even stated it was against God. It was utterly preposterous of me to say. All of it was part of me just not believing I
have a right to be happy. Not that it mattered;
Cyrus had a counter for all of my protests.
He pulled me tight against his body so that I was seated in
his lap with my legs on either side.
With the two of us facing one another, tucked tightly chest to chest,
the throbbing excitement between us was almost too much to bear. He took me by the hips and ground our
erections together, causing me to moan and thrash.
He easily hit the nail on the head, stating my want of him
was why I was trying to rid myself of my need of his blood. I can still hear his voice as he purred
huskily the words into my ear. “You want
me.” It sends shivers down my spine and
warmth to my nethers.
I was confused and my thoughts were jumbled. I stated as much. He took me into his arms and told me, “Don’t
think, just feel.”
He picked a flower from a nearby desert rose. I absolutely adore the flowers. He handed the blossom to me and I sniffed it,
enjoying the sensation as cool air surrounded us. In a flash he’d carried me back to my tent
and lay me down upon my back. He undressed
me and nibbled my flesh, cooing against me. “Just feel me…”
His lips and tongue were everywhere and the scent of the
desert rose flooded my senses. There was
nothing in this world but the two of us.
I forgot who I was in the past and the things that I have done. I felt him take in my tip, tenderly massaging
me with his tongue and lips. Despite
being an incredibly strong vampire everything he did to me was soft and loving.
After a few moments of using his mouth he moved up my body
and I became aware he was nude. Our
bodies slid together perfectly and our erections lie side-by-side. I never imagined something could feel so
good. I hooked a leg around his hip and
moved with him, like waves on the ocean.
I stared into his eyes and he stared back at me. In moments were both undone and it was
perfect.
Afterwards he nibbled my lips and told me that he had loved
me from the moment he first laid eyes upon me.
Then, he took me into his arms and we lay tucked together like real
lovers. I wanted to say
something profound to him, but all I recall is muttering ‘Mein Leibe’ as I
sniffed of the flower again before falling asleep nestled together with him.
It still feels surreal.
Now I am not certain how to act around him. I think I will close out Journal. I am going to see if I cannot curl up with
him. Perhaps with a bit of coaxing I
might elicit those strong arms to hold me.
Wish me luck.
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