THE TASTE OF BLOOD

CHAPTER THREE. BULIMIC.

Since I tried to sell Frank, the young boy has been anything but friendly. Why I still have him in my apartment, I can't quite work out. He made his way up here by himself, when I expected him to run away, and so here he is. Lurking around in the dark, muttering curses to himself, smoking cigarette after cigarette. Right now, he's hauled up in the bathroom. The disgusting scent of vomit catches my attention, along with the fluctuating sounds of retching, coughing and spluttering. I can hear his heart panging wildly beneath his ribcage, and even the occasional whimper leaving his lips. As I sip at my coffee, I eventually get irritated by the small noises. It's obvious that he's trying to be quiet about his business, but my ears are far too sensitive to let it go ignored. For a minute, I think about putting my headphones on and listening to some Misfits, but I change my mind. If I was to do that, then I might as well just kick the kid out already. Maybe I should.
My throat burns, and I'm pushed to let the last few dregs of coffee fall onto my tongue. Craving more, I slaunter into the kitchen and check inside the refrigerator, but find nothing more than a few cold cans of lager. With a growl, I stop to think. Apparently I have no options left. I was stupid enough to get on Daniel's bad terms, and it's not as if I have any money. My eyes flick over to the bathroom door as yet another plan begins to form inside of my head.
After grabbing a somewhat clean glass from the cupboard, I fill it with water before heading to the occupied bathroom. The door isn't locked, so I walk straight in. Frank is sprawled out at my feet, spluttering into the toilet. Pursing my lips, I stare at him for a moment. He doesn't acknowledge my entrance. "Sit up," I order. Instantly, his body freezes up and a small wheeze leaves his mouth. He turns to face me, not a shred of terror evident on his face. Instead, he glares at me, his eyes laced with venom. "What were you just doing?" I hand the water to him, frowning. Reluctantly, he takes it from me before sipping at the clear liquid.
"I...I-I don't wanna sound stupid," he mutterers, moving the drink to one side and placing it on the cracked Iineoum floor. I arch an eyebrow up at him. "But, I... y'know, don't wanna get fat,"
A laugh almost escapes me. "You don't even eat, how the fuck are you supposed to get fat?"
"It's none of your business,"
"Fine kid, but I'm gonna have to force some pie down you,"
"No,"
"I mean it, if you wanna stay here, you need to eat,"
"But you don't care. You don't give a shit if I starve myself to death," his eyes are stabbing splinters in me.
"Actually," I crouch down on the floor, moving closer to him. "You're right, I don't care if you die. I wouldn't give a shit. But... you see, I didn't drink last night. And I'm not very welcome there anymore," I'm smiling sadistically, feeling pleasure rush through my veins at the thought of blood. I lick my lips. "Frank, why aren't you dead yet?"
He gulps, trying to appear scared. I can see something in his eyes that tells me otherwise though. "I don't know,"
"If vampires keep drinking from you, do you think you'll die?"
"I don't know... I don't think so,"
A smirk plays on my lips. The boy is almost begging for it. Curving his neck ever so slightly, resting his head to the side. He makes it seem as though he's trying to avoid eye contact with me, but I can easily see through this. "Sit up," I order. He sits up. "Move your head to the left," he does as he is told. He even licks his lips slightly. Obedient, good. I place a hand on his shoulder, and move in closer. My leg grazes his, then I'm almost straddling him as I let my lips graze over his throat.

It's a sexual act, Feeding. No humans would sacrifice their blood if they didn't get some form of pleasure from it. Just gazing at Frank's face tells me that he's getting desperate. It's familiar to how he looked when we were in the club. Eyes half lidded, mouth open slightly. Breath becoming ragged, his body tensing. He's more than willing. "I'm giving you one chance," I force myself to say. I can feel his body shuddering beneath me as my ice cold breath slices across his skin. "You either leave. Now. Leave and don't come back. That, or you stay. I'll feed you. I'll give you somewhere to live. You'll have to fill in your side of the bargain, but you can see that I'm thirsty, can't you?"
A lump slides down his throat as he swallows. "I can see that you're thirsty," he mumbles.
"So you'll stay?"
"Bite me,"

Notes

Apologies for the long wait, my PC was broken. Anyway, I'd really like some feedback on this story. I don't wanna fuck it up like I did with Ghosts, so please tell my honestly what you think.

Also, if you haven't already, I'd reall appreciate it if you vote/subbed c: it helps me out a lot, okay thanks guys :D

xofeb