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Cuddles and blood drinking- oh my!
Part 1
Tonight I’m yours
...
“Bella, you can’t be serious!”
It’s busy tonight, Bella thinks- and loud. She brings the almost empty glass to her mouth, swallows what’s left and then waves the bartender down for another.
“Why can’t I be serious?” she asks, shouting over the noise. She doesn’t look her friend’s way though. She’s too busy staring at the bartender’s arse- which is nice of course, but it’s not-
Bella looks away, frustrated with herself for thinking it. She can never quite seem to help herself and she fucking hates that. She offers a nod of thanks as a new drink is slid her way, and pays quickly so that the woman will get out of her personal space again as soon as possible.
It’s not the bartender’s fault, obviously, but Bella finds herself pissed off at her anyway.
Why can’t her arse be perfect?
There’s a band playing closer to the back of the bar- a local group that Bella doesn’t recognise the name of. They’re decent enough, she supposes, but still too loud for Bella. She thinks she might have to start looking for a new place to drown her sorrows after work if this is going to be a regular thing. Leah slaps the bar with an open palm, but Bella isn’t really sure why. It might be disbelief, or it could be outrage…
She doesn’t much care for either.
“What’s the big deal?” she asks her friend. “You think I’m the first person to pay for it?”
Leah snorts. “You’re the first person I know personally, yeah. I’d heard it was a thing, but like… I don’t get the appeal,” she answers, shaking her head. “Why would you want to pay for that?”
Technically Bella isn't paying for anything, but she isn’t about to get into the legalities of it with her cop friend.
“That being what exactly?” Bella asks, narrowing her eyes. “Sex? Biting? Blood play? Why the fuck does it matter what I’m paying for?”
Leah widens her eyes. “That’s not it! I mean, they’re not… they’re just…” she trails off and then quickly shuts her mouth, which Bella is grateful for. She’s not in the mood to listen to her shit tonight- not after the week that she’s had. “Look,” Leah says after a moment- and after a healthy swig of beer. “It’s not that I’m judging you-”
“Sure as hell sounds like it.”
“-I’m just worried it’s going to do bad shit to your head, and I don’t like seeing you that way, that’s all.”
That’s definitely not all, Bella thinks, but she doesn’t say it. She just takes another drink and decides maybe the noise level in the bar is to her advantage tonight. It’s easier to drown her friend out this way. Her eyes drift back to the bartender and slip down…
The woman’s arse might not be perfect, but Bella admits that she’s still very nice to look at.
Leah catches on fairly quickly- Bella has stopped listening. She heaves a sigh and stops trying to convince her that she isn’t just being a prejudiced piece of shit- because that’s exactly what she’s being and Bella’s told her before that she won’t listen to it.
Friend or not, Leah will never approve- and that’s fine. Bella doesn’t expect her to approve, and she certainly doesn’t need it. She’s a grown arse human being and if she wants to throw her money at this, then she’s going to throw her money at it-
Or something to that effect anyway. Her life, her choice.
“Just… be safe, alright?” Leah says to her finally, with resignation heavy in her tone. “Can I help you find a place at least? I can make some calls, find you some place reputable-”
“I don’t need help.” Bella interrupts her, firm in the look she gives her. She knows what Leah is trying to do, and while she appreciates it to some degree, it’s way overstepping her boundaries. “I’ve already looked into it, and I’ve already decided.”
Technically. Decisions were made.
“They’re reputable?”
"Yes, Leah," she snaps. "You think I’m an idiot?”
"No."
A part of her wonders if maybe she is an idiot for going ahead with this insanity, but there’s not much she can do about it now. She already took it, it’s already done. Leah's gaze drops to the beer Bella's drinking.
“What?” she asks, because clearly Leah isn’t finished.
“What nothing,” Leah answers. “You’re just a cheap cunt, so my concerns are valid, don’t you think?”
Bella eyes her beer- the cheapest sold here, from the bottle and not on tap… tastes the bitter aftertaste on her lips… and okay, yes- Leah might have a point. She is a cheap cunt- she can’t afford to not be.
She cracks a bitter smile. "The beer isn't that bad,” she lies. “You’d get used to it if you drank it more.”
“I’d rather drink horse piss, thank you very much.”
Leah says it with a grin though- and it lightens the mood enough that Bella can relax her shoulders just a little. "I'll get right on that." she responds.
They say goodnight on the street outside the bar a handful of beers later- Leah offers to walk her home but Bella waves her off, and by the time she stumbles through the door of her small apartment, the crisp air has sobered her up some.
Not enough to avoid tripping on the welcome mat outside her front door though. She kicks it with a grumble.
Fuckin mat.
She's been meaning to toss it in the garbage for weeks, but her head is buzzing too much to attempt it now. If she bends over she's liable to go headfirst into the drywall, and she's sure her landlord won't appreciate that one bit.
She shuffles into the kitchen to grab a cold hotdog from the fridge and shoves that in her face instead- and she’s about to shuffle to bed, hotdog hanging from her mouth… but pauses. She’s caught sight of the only thing stuck to the fridge door with a shitty magnet she picked up from the dollar store at half price…
Her stomach flutters with nerves.
A simple black business card.
Ethereal.
The script is elegant- barely visible to the naked eye with its soft shades of iridescent blues and purples. Bella’s honestly never seen anything like it before, and it’s beautiful- hypnotising even, which is how she suspects it found its way into the pocket of her greasy overalls.
She likes pretty things. She wonders if she’s imagined it all but…
She plucks it from the fridge, still chewing on her cold hotdog, and turns the card over- and yes, right in the centre she sees nothing. She tilts the card between her fingers, back and forth, and catches just the smallest hint of something.
It’s still there.
She isn’t imagining it.
She’d tried to get a better look with her phone torch earlier but had accidentally opened her camera instead… and what a fortunate accident it had been, she thinks in a daze. A QR code hidden in the dark colours of the card, invisible to the naked eye…
She chews and swallows her food quickly, and pulls her phone out with slow fingers. She just wants to be sure, one more time, that she isn’t going mad and imagining this. But no, the camera scans the QR code and takes her to a booking page as simple and as elegant as the card itself.
BOOKING CONFIRMATION
PAYMENT- PAID.
Thank you for booking with Ethereal and Associates, where we value your anonymity and patronage. Tatyana thanks you for your interest and looks forward to your visit.
Please find your booking instructions below;
Check in is for Saturday the 12th of August, 2021, at 6pm. Please be on time.
Check out is for Sunday 13th of August, 2021, at 10am. This is non-negotiable.
Please check in with reception at the front of the building upon arrival.
Dinner and breakfast are included, and will be cooked by our highly trained Michelin Star chefs and delivered to your room. Drinks are complimentary and each room will be fully stocked during your stay.
A reminder-
We value anonymity and are an invitation only business. No names are exchanged during the booking process. Our business card is your invitation and your key to this booking- please do not misplace this or arrive for check in without this as you will be refused entry and swiftly removed from the hotel by security.
No invitation card, no entry.
You’ll find our address below. Please do not share it with others. We look forward to your arrival and hope you have a pleasurable stay,
Ethereal and Associates
The nervous flutters turn to rolling waves of anxiety in her belly.
921 Terry Ave, Seattle, WA 98104
Bella places the card down on the bench with shaking fingers, and decides she’s still way too drunk to put anymore thought into this or how it’s come about. She needs sleep, and tomorrow…
Tomorrow she hopes for no hangover.
Tomorrow she has a long drive ahead of her.
***
At dawn, the usual sounds of Bella’s apartment block wake her. Heavy footsteps in the apartment above her, the slamming of a door, muted voices, a television…
People getting ready to leave for work or do whatever the fuck people apparently do that require them to be up this early on a Saturday morning. Bella’s head hurts and her stomach rolls as she turns over onto her side- an unfortunate consequence from the night before. Burying herself beneath the covers in an attempt to hide from the world, she shuts her eyes and hopes she can get a few more hours of much needed sleep.
She’s unsuccessful though, thanks to the pounding of her head and then of course becoming aware of how badly she needs to pee.
“Ugh.”
Her mouth tastes like arse.
Lovely.
A trip to the bathroom and then the kitchen for a glass of water and some painkillers later…
Bella decides she’s not ready to start the day just yet and crawls right back into bed. The day can wait, she thinks.
She’s asleep the moment her head hits the pillow, and doesn't so much as twitch until midday, when her buzzing phone wakes her. With sleep crusted eyes, she sees that it’s a text from Leah.
You feel as shit as I do this morning or what? - L
Bella presses a careful hand to her head, but she’s relieved to feel that it’s no longer pounding. She fires off a quick response before she crawls out of bed for the second time that morning, but this time she heads straight for the coffee pot instead of the bathroom.
Her bladder can wait.
With a yawn, she goes about making her cup of coffee- opting to take it with extra sugar and milk this morning. Her stomach is a little queasy still, likely from a combination of both the alcohol and lack of food, so she figures milk will be far gentler than taking it black.
Only after she’s taken her first sip does she allow her full bladder the attention it requires.
Coffee, bathroom, and then food- in that order, and then…
Well, then she has a “date” to get ready for. The stupidity of the thought makes her snort and almost inhale a lungful of burning hot liquid- because it is a stupid thought. It’s not a date, she can’t even tell herself that it is one because she paid for it. She didn’t pay for it.
The guilt of that truth returns, but she stamps it down quickly. She does not need to be stressing about that before tonight. She should be stressing about who the fuck Tatyana is, what exactly was paid for and whether she’s going to land herself in a world of trouble over this whole thing.
She spies that black business card- it taunts her from its place on the counter and her anxiety begins to bubble back to the service.
What are you doing, Bella?
She only wishes that she knew.
“ Ugh.”
Seems to be the mood of the day, she thinks. It doesn’t bode well for what’s to come.
***
“You didn’t say it was tonight!”
Bella’s hands clench around the steering wheel. “I didn’t realise I had to.”
Leah makes a noise through the speaker. “You didn’t, obviously,” she rushes to say, “I just, you know, didn’t realise it was so soon. Where exactly is it happening? Where are you meeting her?”
“... if I answer that, promise me you won’t freak out.”
There’s a reason Bella hasn’t told her friend until now- when she’s already well into an hour of her drive there. Silence rings loudly in her ears, and all Bella can hear is Leah’s deep breathing.
She’s trying not to lose her temper and do exactly what Bella worries she'll do, which is fly off the fucking rails.
“I won’t freak out.” she says, although Bella can tell it’s said with great difficulty. “Just tell me, Bella.”
Bella doesn’t believe her, but…
“Seattle.” she answers. “I can’t give you any more than that.”
Silence- bar the sounds of Bella’s all terrains on the highway and the static over the bluetooth.
.
.
.
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.” Bella adds, worrying her lip. “I knew you’d be pissed off.”
“You’re right, I am pissed off,” she responds, “but you at least realise why, don’t you?” She’s trying so hard to keep her cool. “Fucken hell, Bella, how am I supposed to make it to Seattle in time if this woman turns out to be a psychopath? I mean, she absolutely fucking will be anyway, but shit, Bella- what am I supposed to do? You won’t even give me an address?”
Ah, there it is, Bella thinks. She knew Leah wouldn’t be able to contain it for long. She’s not mad though, not really.
“I can’t give you the address, Leah. The business was very specific about that.”
“Wonder fucking why.”
“Not for the reasons you’re thinking, I promise you.” She rolls her eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do,” she mutters. “Don’t be a fucking idiot.”
Bella almost smiles- only from Leah would that come off as sounding affectionate. “Then trust me when I tell you there’s nothing to worry about.”
Not that Bella knows that herself of course, but she only has to think back to where she got the card to know that it’s true. Or so the theory goes anyway.
“I don’t like it.”
Bella sighs. “You were never going to like it, Leah.” she tells her, so softly that it’s almost… apologetic. She knows why it comes out that way, and she knows that Leah knows why.
There’s a moment of silence before Bella hears a scoff.
“... you could have come to me.” Leah says, so quietly that Bella hopes she’s misheard her. “I would have looked after you.”
Pain lances her heart. “Leah…”
She doesn’t think she can handle having this conversation again, especially not while she’s driving down the highway and needing to focus on the road. Leah loves her- Leah is in love with her. She’s never kept it a secret, and once upon a time Bella might have been able to love her back, but she can’t. Not now. Not ever.
She ruined Bella for anyone else.
“Look, I have to get going,” Leah says, not wanting to hear any more. “Please just send me a message tonight- let me know you're not lying dead in an alley somewhere.”
“Okay,” Bella answers, because that’s the best she’s going to get from her friend now. She swallows back her tears. “I’ll message you, Leah. I promise.”
A grunt is her only answer before the call is ended.
Goddamn it.
This isn't her fault- Leah's pain isn't her fault, but knowing it doesn't lessen the guilt Bella feels. Of course Leah would have looked after her if she'd asked- would have bent over backwards to give her anything she asked for, but Bella wouldn't ask. It might have crossed her mind once or twice when she was feeling particularly sad and sorry for herself, but she couldn't ever bring herself to do it- not then and certainly not now.
She would never hurt Leah that way.
But rubbing her face in your plans for the night is fine?
Bella’s expression slips, and she glowers at the road ahead, bitter at the turn her thoughts have taken. That wasn't what she was doing when she told Leah- it wasn’t , but it's hard to justify it to herself now. It doesn’t make her feel better about it either.
Should have just kept my mouth shut.
As Bella presses her foot to the accelerator, she blames the loosening of her tongue on the alcohol and decides it’s time that she took a step back from it anyway. She’s been drinking more and more since-
Growling at herself, she smacks her hand against the middle of the steering wheel. Why her thoughts always return to that she has no idea, but she wants them to fuck off. It takes a minute for her to calm down, and only then do her thoughts return to her friend. She’ll apologise to Leah tomorrow, she thinks- it’s the least she can do. As her thoughts drift slowly to the night ahead…
The anxiety returns- worse with the lingering effects of her night on the piss.
Definitely no more booze.
Her resolve to quit drinking lasts exactly the length of the drive and the twenty more minutes it takes her to find a place to park her truck. She pays the fee for 24 hours, puts the ticket on the inside of the dash, and then follows google maps closer to where she needs to be. Only she’s too early, she realises, a block and a half from her destination. She has close to an hour to kill before check in…
Lucky for her she’d spied a sports bar just a few hundred metres back the way she’d come. She backtracks- and that’s how she finds herself sitting at the bar in her best jeans and a crisp, ironed flannelette shirt… drinking the cheapest brew that they sell. Cheapest still turns out to be almost double the price of what she usually drinks back home, but she supposes that’s what she gets for coming into the city to drink, and vows never to do it again.
She almost snorts into her bottle of not-so-fucking-cheap beer. She should probably avoid trying to make healthy resolutions right now- after all, the hotel offers complimentary drinks. It will probably be her only chance to have something that expensive ever touch her tongue-
Although…
Maybe not the most expensive thing if tonight is about what she’s ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive it’s about.
She’ll make it up to Leah, but not tonight. Tonight is about her- tonight is about-
Sex.
Her face reddens at the thought because sitting in a bar having a beer is neither the time nor the place to be thinking about what’s going to be touching her tongue tonight. She downs what’s left in the bottle.
“Not a bad drop, aye?” the bartender asks. It’s a slow evening for him apparently. “Can I get you another one?”
The bartender has an accent, but Bella can’t really make out what it is or where he’s from. She glances at her phone- 1745…
“As much as I’d love to…” she starts, offering him a smile as she slides off the barstool, “I’ve got to get going, but thank you.”
Returning her smile, he dips his chin and reaches for the empty bottle. “No worries. Have yourself a good night.”
The walk to the hotel is a slow one, and Bella feels every excruciating step of it. Not because she has inappropriate footwear either, but because with each step that she gets closer, the more her anxiety grows. She carries it all in her belly- and her earlier nausea returns…
Only she doubts it has anything to do with alcohol this time. As she rounds the corner onto Terry Ave, she notices that it’s much quieter than the previous streets. It’s well-lit though, and tall maples line either side of the road. The soles of her converse scuff the pavement as she checks the time and picks up her pace, but she doesn’t have to worry because the building comes into view soon enough. On the corner of Terry and Maddison…
She knows she’s arrived before google tells her so.
“Jesus-” She slows her steps as she approaches, and she can’t control the way her mouth opens slightly in awe at what stands before her. “-Christ.”
A tower of obsidian above her, the building seems just a reflection of the city itself. Lights bounce off windows so dark that Bella isn’t sure she could see inside them even if she tried- and she does try, but only for the briefest moment before she realises how futile it is and gives up. Her anxiety begins to get the better of her.
There are no words, no signs, not even a hint of what this building is, but Bella knows.
Ethereal.
She swallows. “Fuck, Bella- what are you doing?” she asks herself, mildly panicked as the reality of the situation really sets in.
She’s about to do this- really do this, and the truth of it causes her limbs to seize up momentarily. Each thump of her heart makes her blood feel like it’s turned to jelly- thick and sluggish as it beats its way through her body in its feeble attempt to keep her breathing…
She’s breathing all right- fucking hyperventilating more like. It’s such a bad idea, but…
She moves toward the towering building, ignoring the stuttering of her heart as she notices how the shadows appear to crawl across her skin and latch onto her . She feels no pain from it- it’s only psychological, right, it’s all in her head and yet the shadows swallow her as though…
She realises then how much she feels like its prey.
Not so far from the truth either.
A tremble runs through her legs as she steps in beneath the portico of the building- fully sheltered beneath its height now, she wonders how the fuck she’s meant to get inside. She doesn’t have to wonder for long- the glass doors slide open in silence, without even the barest of whispers. Brightness from within blinds her momentarily- she ducks her head, covers her eyes- panics- before the shadow of someone steps into its path and offers her some reprieve.
This shadow steps out into the street as the glass doors close behind them, and as one, their shadows meld. “Good evening,” a deep voice rumbles, not entirely unpleasant. “Do you have a reservation?”
Bella’s brain is slow, her thoughts sluggish as she tries to adjust to the lack of light once more. She blinks rapidly but can’t make out a face in the shadows beneath the spots of light in her eyes. She feels her heart in her head, throbbing in the tips of her fingers-
“Madam,” that same voice rumbles again, “Do you have a reservation, or are you lost?”
Is she lost? She isn’t sure anymore- thoughts are a jumbled mess inside her head, but as her eyes adjust from the earlier blinding, she thinks that she sees a man before her, but it’s hard to be sure. Her eyes begin to water from the effort before she can focus on his face, but then she remembers about the black card in her breast pocket. It feels like lead now, or is that her heart?
“Madam?”
“Yes, sorry.” She finally manages to get her voice to work- shame that she sounds like a prepubescent teenage boy. She clears her throat, reaches into her pocket and takes the business card out with shaking fingers. “I have a reservation.”
She offers him the card… and the shadows accept, cloaking her arm in its oppressive presence. It constricts, she’s almost positive that she feels it. The man nods.
“Very good,” he says as he steps aside in welcome. “Please come inside.”
He holds a hand out to the black glass, and the doors open. Bella has enough peace of mind this time around to prepare herself for the bright lights before they come, but her sight still blurs…
Or is she just sweating so badly now that it’s dripping into her eyes? Really, she isn’t sure about anything anymore.
Pathetic.
She wills herself to get a grip as she shuffles in after the tall shadow. Behind her, she spies the doors sliding shut.
No escape now.
The shadow shifts ahead of her… except he’s no longer a shadow under these bright lights. He’s a man dressed in a black suit more expensive than anything Bella owns. Black suit, black tie, black shoes- nothing but on black but for his shirt.
It’s the colour of blood.
Like his eyes.
He smiles, his features so striking and handsome that Bella feels it in places that men don’t usually make her feel it.
“If you would like to go ahead to reception, they’ll look after you.” he tells her in his deep rumble, and motions that she move further into the lobby. “Just follow this corridor and you’ll loop around to the left. You can’t miss it.”
She’s still staring at his eyes. “Thank you.” she breathes, although she barely hears herself over the pounding of her own heart. Did she even speak?
“You’re most welcome,” he answers, bowing his head. “Have a lovely evening, madam.”
Apparently so.
And with that, he returns to his post by the door, where he stands so still he might as well be a statue. It’s almost as though he’s a mere part of the hotel’s decor and exists solely for its purpose.
It’s surreal, she thinks in a daze. She’s not sure this is even really happening anymore, or whether it’s some part of a fevered dream. Maybe she’s still laying in her bed at home, sick to her stomach, poisoned by alcohol. She realises that she’s moving before she registers actually commanding her body to do so… until she’s standing before the reception desk blinking in an attempt to clear her head.
She’s confused, possibly but almost definitely in the midst of a mild to what might very well soon be a severe panic attack- and she can’t organise her thoughts clearly enough to comprehend what she’s supposed to be asking this woman behind the counter. Her face is lovely, her voice is beautiful…
Bella’s belly quivers with a fucked-up combination of terror and desire.
“Good evening,” the woman greets her in a voice that sounds like wind chimes. “Confirmation of reservation please?”
She holds out her hand- as delicate as a flower and about as deceptive as the label on a low fat chocolate bar. Bella might be fucked up right now, but she isn’t a complete idiot. She’s pleased to note that her hand trembles less this time though, so that’s somewhat reassuring.
The woman’s face lights up with a smile. “Lovely!” she says, taking the card. “I’ll get you all checked in and have you shown to your room in no time. Would you like a glass of wine while you wait?”
Bella’s heart thumps erratically. “No, thank you.” Wine is a very bad idea right now. She feels sweat trickle down into the dip of her lower back. “I could use a glass of water though… maybe?”
She isn’t sure.
A server appears at her side before she’s even finished speaking, and it scares her so thoroughly that she visibly jumps. The young man is too polite to mention it though, only offers her one of those eerily friendly smiles that she’s been getting since she walked through the doors. In his hand is a silver tray holding a black bottle and a crystal glass.
“As requested, a bottle of Fillico for the lady.” the server says. “Would you like ice?”
She manages a befuddled shake of her head.
“Quite right,” he agrees, and uses a single hand to crack off the bottle lid… shaped like a royal crown. Bella is so confused. “Ice would only ruin the flavour, or so I’m led to believe.
The flavour…?
She watches as he pours her a glass of this very ordinary looking water, and carefully takes the glass when offered it. She takes a sip and it soothes her dry throat, but the server hovers.
“How does the lady find it?” he asks, smiling all the while.
She licks her lips. “It’s… nice?”
Refreshing even. He nods, pleased with her answer for a reason that Bella isn’t sure she fully comprehends. It’s just water . “Very good. I’ll have a fresh bottle sent to your room, if you would like?”
Ummmm….
“Sure,” she mumbles, downing the glass and placing the empty glass back on the tray. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome.”
And then he’s gone so quickly that Bella’s left wondering again if this is even really happening. It doesn’t feel real. She turns her attention back to the woman behind the desk- notes her pencil skirt black suit, red shirt and cute black bow tie made of lace and frills…
Bella’s heart jumps in her chest- and that feels pretty fucking real to her.
Oh god…
“There we go, all done. You can have this back for now,” the woman says, sliding the business card across to her. “Tatyana will be down shortly to show you to your room, but in the meantime you can make yourself comfortable in the bar or the lobby. Drinks are complimentary, so please feel free to order whatever you like.” She offers Bella a smile meant to stun.
… oh god…
It’s suddenly becoming much harder for Bella to draw oxygen into her lungs.
“Or perhaps I can show you to the gardens for some fresh air?” the woman asks, her gaze dropping to Bella’s rapidly beating chest momentarily. She meets Bella’s eyes once more, smiling all the while, but this time with something more to it. “Our gardens are home to some of the most stunning flowers in the city, including the black baccara rose, which I’m told has a gentle fragrance that’s perfect for calming the soul.”
Calming the soul? What would this woman know about that, Bella thinks in a panic, least of all what the black fucking baccara rose smells like. The rhythm of her heart beats like a drum inside her chest.
… oh god…
Bella is familiar with this feeling.
“Our guests are welcome to take a bouquet home with them at check out, as included in the price of your stay.” she continues, and now tilts her head. “You’ll find given the blood red colour of their petals that they’re a lovely reminder of what we offer here at Ethereal-”
Her head begins to spin as she continues to talk, vision tunnelling black…
“-employ world class trauma specialists-”
… Bella’s eyes flutter shut, heart pounding…
“-complimentary access for all our guests should you require it-”
Fuck.
Her last thought before her vision goes completely black.
***
It's cold.
The sun hides behind heavy storm clouds that threaten rain, and there’s a bite in the air that hints at the oncoming winter.
Bella glares at her dead truck. She'll have to walk and be late for school again.
She has a horrible thought- first period is with Miss Langley and she won't be happy.
Thunder rumbles overheard as she kicks a meaty tyre and almost breaks a toe. "Piece of shit." she mutters, and considers if it's worth just crawling back into bed.
"That's rather unfair, don't you think?" a voice taunts from behind. "A vehicle is only as shit as the upkeep on it, so you really have no one to blame but yourself."
Bella spins on her heels with a feeling heavy indignation, because really, who the fuck does this stranger think she is? She’s going to give this bitch what for-
But she's greeted by her. Anger bleeds from her within seconds.
"I'll show you how to keep her running," this woman says, adding a purr to her softly spoken words. "For a price."
Amusement colder than death dances behind those hypnotising eyes- older than Bella herself… blood red…
… beautiful…
Bella’s heart is stolen by the dead.
***
Waking is a disorientating thing. As Bella starts to join the real world once more, for a brief moment she can’t remember where she is or what happened. Wasn't she out with Leah?
God, how much did I drink?
But no…
She feels terrible, but not hungover terrible- of which she is more than familiar with. She knows hungover.
Memories trickle back slowly- jumbled in an unorganised mess-
Shadows, water, roses-
It takes a moment, but she remembers.
Ethereal… but what… what happened?
She feels awful- and her subconscious dragging up memories of before aren't helping matters. It's left her feeling empty inside, which helps none to settle the queasiness in her stomach. Her brain hurts and her limbs shake as she grabs at her head. She makes a pitiful groaning noise.
She feels awful, simply put, but at least she knows where she is. Sort of.
"Oh good, you're awake."
Is she though? She wishes it felt that way. "Sort of." she mumbles, echoing her thoughts. “Did I…?”
She’s not quite sure how to finish that question. She attempts to shake the cobwebs from her brain, but it’s a mistake on her part and probably the worst thing she could have done. The world spins.
“Well, you’re alive at the very least.”
She groans. “How fucking ironic.”
There’s a bout of silence, interrupted only by the clearing of a throat. “It is rather, yes.” comes the amused response. Bella can tell she’s trying not to laugh-
And then it occurs to her that she’s not quite sure who ‘she’ is. She was…
Reception!
Bella was in the lobby, at the reception desk checking in, but then she remembers the feeling that came over her… and then…
Nothing.
Did she…?
“Oh god.” she breathes.
The realisation that she must have passed out is mortifying, but she’s starting to regain some semblance of rational thought now- and she’s very much aware that this is not the woman from behind the reception desk. Their voices are very different, she thinks, and this woman now has the softest hint of an accent.
The receptionist did not.
As the uneasiness in her stomach begins to settle, Bella lays there wishing her embarrassment would join it. “I passed out.”
There comes the sound of movement somewhere to the left of Bella. “I requested some water be brought up,” the same woman tells her, her voice closer now. “Have some, please.”
“So that I can drown myself in it? Good thinking.” she mutters, refusing to open her eyes and face the reality of it. Trust her to walk into what must be one of the most expensive hotels in the fucking country and have a panic attack. “Fucking hell,” she says, and feels her cheeks heat up. “I’m so embarrassed.”
Then comes soft laughter. “There’s no need, truly. You’re not the first person and you certainly won’t be the last. I can almost guarantee it.”
Bella thinks the woman means it to make her feel better, but it really doesn’t.
"In fact," she continues, "passing out isn't even the worst thing that people have done here. Now here, please have a glass of water."
Bella cautiously opens her eyes, but to her immense relief there's no great blinding lights above her. The room is bathed in the soft glow of LEDs- dimmed so low that Bella might actually need to squint in order to find that glass of water. Bella closes her eyes as she begins to move.
"Take it easy," that same woman coos softly, adding, "Lean back against the headboard. It's nice and soft, I promise. Your back will thank me for it."
Bella feels the bed dip with the woman's weight (which only sends her into a mild panic- go her) as she shuffles back, but her attention is quickly drawn away. The woman is right; the pillows- the headboard must be cushioned with fucking down feathers and velvet because it’s the most comfortable thing she’s touched in a long time. This mattress not withstanding.
"Can't really thank you since I don't know who to thank," Bella admits, almost bordering on teasing. She feels comfortable in a way that she usually doesn't, but not quite ready to open her eyes just yet lest her stomach or head protest. So far though… nothing. “Are we like… you know, allowed to exchange names here or…?” she trails off. “I’m not really sure about the rules of this.”
And she isn’t, because technically she didn’t make the booking. She’s not about to admit to that though, in case it gets her booted from the premises. The bed is too soft and this woman too kind to risk it- and there’s such a lovely scent in the air that Bella is almost positive that’s helping to keep her so calm.
She almost fears becoming addicted to the smell alone.
“If you wish to give me your name, then I would love to hear it.” she answers, unmistakably amused. “Given that you’re already in possession of mine, I am at a bit of a disadvantage here.”
She’s teasing her, but Bella can’t really focus on that because…
She already…?
Realisation smacks her in the face like a two by four- and her cheeks flood with embarrassment. “You’re Tatyana?”
There comes a hum of affirmation. “Now won’t you tell me yours, darling?” she purrs. “You’re far too adorable to remain nameless, I fear. I’m not sure I could bear it.”
Without any more preamble, Bella throws all caution to the wind- her cheeks flush, her eyes snap open in an instant-
And she is met by the face of an angel- soft blonde curls, full lips, cheekbones that could cut fucking glass…
Her heart lurches deep into her throat, their eyes meet… and for a brief moment Bella forgets how to breathe. Such an easy, natural bodily function… gone.
Tatyana is an angel, yes, but perhaps an angel of death is more accurate because she has well and truly stolen the breath from Bella's lungs. Red eyes bore into her own- freezing her, hypnotising her… and when those pretty red lips stretch into a soft grin, Bella is truly lost.
“ Breathe , darling,” she teases. “I’d rather you not spend the night unconscious, wouldn’t you?”
It’s not really a command as such, but Bella finds herself doing as she’s told. Distracted by thoughts of why Tatyana would like her conscious mean that her next breath is a shaky one.
.
.
.
“Bella,” she breathes, unable to look away. “My name is Bella.”
She can have her name, Bella thinks. As far as she’s concerned, Tatyana can have whatever she asks for. It’s hers.
Tatyana’s laughter tells her that she says that last part out loud.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Bella mutters, convinced her cheeks will forever stay this mortifying shade of red around the woman. “I’m not usually this much of a-”
“Please don’t finish that sentence.” Tatyana interrupts her, and presses a glass gently into Bella’s hand- a reminder that she hasn’t yet had any water. “And please don’t apologise,” she adds, smirking now, “I don’t mind knowing how to get exactly what I want, Bella.”
“ Oh.”
With her next blush, Tatyana’s eyes appear to track its spread across Bella’s cheeks. “Are you feeling better?” she asks, meeting her gaze once more. She smiles as Bella nods, sipping her water. “Very good,” she murmurs. “I won’t have to spend the night entertaining myself, after all.”
Bella drinks more of her water, not quite sure she’s ready to think about how Tatyana had planned to ‘entertain’ herself in Bella’s absence. “Would I be able to have a shower?” she asks, eager to change the subject. “I feel…”
Gross.
She doesn’t need to say it though, for which she’s grateful. “Of course,” is her response, “I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”
As Tatyana stands, Bella becomes aware of how woefully underdressed she is. Even in her best flannel and jeans she can’t compare. She pulls at her own shirt, suddenly wishing she owned something even half as nice as what Tatyana wears. Despite all of that though…
Bella is in awe.
“I’m perhaps a little overdressed,” Tatyana teases, brushing her slim fingers down the tight seam of her dress. “I like to make a good first impression…” She runs them over her hips, and Bella suspects she does it on purpose. “Did I succeed?”
“Yes.”
Earlier nausea and discomfort now gone, Bella leaves the comfort of the bed in favour of moving closer to the woman before her. She wants so badly to touch- to roll the soft fabric between her fingers and envision what’s underneath. She’s already struggling not to do the latter of those.
She reaches out her hand, but hesitates. “Can I…?”
Another soft giggle. “Are you always this polite?” she asks, but the question gives Bella pause. Before she can voice her offence though, coldness envelopes her hand and twists through her fingers, drawing her closer. “Yes,” she continues, giving her permission. “In fact, please do.”
She isn’t soft- Bella knows better than to expect it, but the feeling is like nothing else on the planet. Her stomach is firm and her hips…
Oh, her hips are perfect beneath Bella’s warm fingers. Her other hand joins the first as they drift closer, and although Bella isn’t quite brave enough to look her in the eye, she’s not worried about offending her. Her eyes are feasting upon the perfection in her hands and she knows that Tatyana is aware of the effect that she’s having on her. Hell , Bella thinks, she can probably smell it all over her.
Her breath catches in her throat as cool breath tickles her sensitive earlobe. Tatyana is far taller than Bella, and she’s okay with this.
Definitely okay.
“ Bella ,” she teases, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“... what thing?”
It’s only after she’s spoken, after the cool air soothes the burn that’s beginning to develop in her lungs that she realises what ‘the thing’ is. A giggle answers her, causing her flesh to ripple with goosebumps.
“Do you often forget to breathe?” Tatyana asks her, but Bella hardly hears her. It takes a good moment for her to focus through the want, to ignore the flutter of her heart as she feels lips brush up the shell of her ear…
Bella’s mind is clouded, but not by panic this time.
“Only around vam-" Bella cuts herself off abruptly, and feels the temperature in the room drop a few rigid degrees at very near slip up. "I'm sorry," she adds, not knowing how else to recover the situation except through an apology. "I meant ethereals. I don't know why I…"
She doesn’t call their kind by that slur ever , so she isn't sure why her traitorous mouth tries to spit it out now of all fucking times.
"It's okay." Tatyana's smile is a little stiffer as her head pulls back, but not enough that Bella worries she's completely ruined the evening, which is a relief. "I understand how humans see us-"
"It's not though," she interrupts. "I don't see ethereals as…" she trails off, not wanting to actually say it.
Tatyana offers a grim smirk. "Bloodthirsty monsters?"
Bella hates that. She cuts her stare away, grinding her jaw shut. "No," she says, "I don't see you that way and I'm sorry ."
She's once again reminded of her, but strangely enough it’s only a small part of her distress this time. Far more upsetting to her is how clearly the word upsets Tatyana , and of course she can't blame her. Bella would feel the same if Tatyana had called her a blood bag or a meat sack.
Tatyana watches her and no doubt sees the range of emotions flicker across her face. Her own softens. "I accept your apology," she says. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me… I-" A cold finger presses against her lips, halting her words… her thoughts… short circuiting her fucking brain . “Wha…?”
Why is she looking at her that way?
"Not all of my guests would offer me the same respect you just did, Bella, least of all apologise." she tells her, removing her finger. "Most would think themselves above such things in fact. So yes, I will thank you." That teasing tone has returned, Bella notes. "Now come, I'll show you the bathroom so we can take that shower."
Bella's hand is taken, and she allows herself to be led from the bedroom in somewhat of a daze. That is, until her poor addled brain registers what exactly Tatyana has said.
"... we?" she squeaks, not quite sure she's heard her correctly. It's probably just wishful thinking, but…
The look Tatyana gives her over her shoulder? It goes straight to places that Bella’s embarrassed to admit, and yeah, she's certain now that she hasn’t misheard anything. And it's why she's here, isn't it? It's what was paid for but… something about it burns like acid in her throat. She's just not sure what that something is.
"Do you actually want to take a shower with me?" she asks, practically blurting the question out. She realises that's the 'something' that bothers her. She wants Tatyana to actually want to shower with her.
"Yes."
Bella hears no mockery or laughter in her answer- doesn't doubt the sincerity of her words at all- and she feels a whole lot of her tension begin to dissolve as they cross the lavish living space.
“...okay.”
If Tatyana wants to shower with her then Bella very much wants her to as well. She's led up a short flight of steps- lush carpet gives way to polished hardwood beneath her feet, but she's far too distracted to notice much more than that. In fact, she's so distracted by her own thoughts, by how lovely the sway to Tatyana's hips are, that she almost runs right into the back of her as they slow.
Bella blinks the heaviness from her head… or at least, she attempts to, but it doesn't quite work. Why are they even stopping? This is definitely not the bathroom, she thinks, eyeing the closest painting to her.
They line the corridor, she now notices and like everything else she's seen so far, they look expensive .
Tatyana notices what holds Bella's attention. "Do you like art?" she asks, nodding to the closest piece. "A friend of mine painted this one for me.”
Bella looks more closely at the dark strokes, but she doesn't really see much of anything in it. She supposes that it's sort of pretty though, in its own way.
"It's… interesting."
Tatyana snorts. "That's one way to put it," she agrees, lips twisting in amusement. "It's not my most favourite piece, but I keep it as a reminder that we all see the world through different eyes." She turns her gaze to the piece with a thoughtful hum, adding, "You see, she painted this at the time of our ascension from the shadows. It would be ‘the extinction of humankind’ she told me. She saw rivers of blood and mountains of death."
Bella swallows. The ascension from the shadows…
The day the dead joined the living. No more hiding, no more skulking about in alleyways and sewers, stalking their prey like wild animals. Had Tatyana seen it with her own eyes? Bella supposes she must have.
"She hated the idea of mass genocide, couldn't see it possibly ending any other way for your kind," Tatyana continues. "And yet she confided in me that it was what she had dreamed of. To walk among the living without fear, to feed without worrying she would be discovered, or worse, punished. She was torn."
Bella really doesn’t see any of that in the painting, but it sends a shiver down her spine regardless. She supposes the splashes of that burgundy red on the canvas must be the rivers of blood she saw.
"What did you see then?" Bella finds herself asking. "Your friend saw horror and mass genocide of humankind… but what did you see with the ascension?"
Bella wants so desperately to know, but she's worried that maybe she's over stepped by asking. Something so personal, so close- and Bella asks as though she's asking about the weather. But would Tatyana blame her for her curiosity? Bella had been there to witness it, after all. She hadn't even been born.
"I saw a path to something better." Tatyana answers, finally. "The opportunity to build a new world. Humans would die, of course, but so would ethereals. The world goes on."
Bella's eyes flicker over to her. "And the extinction of humankind?" she asks. Tatyana meets her eye.
"I think my friend underestimated humankind's will to survive," she says, " and the desires of her own kind. The majority of us didn’t want mass slaughter or genocide."
"You wanted freedom."
Tatyana's smile is soft. "Yes," she hums, "we wanted freedom."
Bella understands that now. In school they're taught about the ancient civilisations of history, told stories of the great conquerors and inventions that changed the world…
When they're taught of the ascension, however, there are no stories of greatness to accompany it. There's no pride or joy in telling it, even now, nearly two hundred years later. They're taught fact- nothing more. The ethereals- the vampires- came from the shadows like a plague, and they killed without care. Humans revolted, ethereals retaliated…
And then came negotiations and order.
The new world began.
"Would you tell me more?" Bella dares to ask. "I've never had the opportunity to ask someone who lived through it…"
Although lived is perhaps the wrong word. In any case, most humans were wary of ethereals and tended to avoid them. The keyword there being most.
"So curious," Tatyana teases with a smile, and takes Bella by the hand, bidding her closer. "I'd be happy to share my stories with you, but maybe later, hm?” Cold fingers dance around the hem of Bella’s shirt, teasing but never quite going beneath it. “I'd like to get out of this dress and into that shower first."
“Oh.”
Bella's body is alight and it’s a painful reminder of the direction in which they’re heading. Tatyana’s smile morphs into a devilish smirk. “I take it you like the idea?” she says, teasing again. “Because just to clarify, I very much like the idea. I don’t do anything that I do not want to do.”
“Yes.” Bella breathes.
Bella might almost rip her own clothes off before they make it to the bathroom at this rate. She wants Tatyana’s hands to slip past that final barrier and touch her, damn it. But instead, Tatyana removes her touch entirely, purring ‘good girl’ and then leading her the rest of the way in silence- a quiet that’s filled with the sound of Bella’s pounding heart. No doubt Tatyana can hear it as clearly as Bella can feel it, but it’s strangely comforting in a way, Bella thinks, to have Tatyana know.
She supposes that’s the reason Tatyana stopped them in the hallway- to make sure this was what Bella wanted…
To make sure that it was what Tatyana wanted as well.
Bella is touched by this in all the ways but the way she really wants to be.
The bathroom is big, but even that doesn’t really do the sheer size of the space justice. The walls are painted with soft golds and whites, and the bathroom counter stretches across the length of the right wall- neatly organised with lotions and products totally beyond Bella’s scope of understanding. Two basins, white marble…
Bella takes it all in with wonder- velvet curtains drapes down over a large window that opens to a balcony, china cabinets either side…
And right beneath that open window is a spa bath elegantly lined with marble and polished wood. Bella thinks it could easily sit two or three people. Forget the shower that stands to the left of her- Bella has her heart set on that tub now.
And all the while, Tatyana stands before her- silent, observing…
Wearing such a self-satisfied smirk on her lovely face that it steals Bella’s breath again.
“Change your mind on the shower, did you?” she says, and promptly spins around. “Help me with my dress?”
Well, Bella can’t say no to that. Her hands are surprisingly steady as she pulls the zip down. Soft flesh meets her eye and her heart rate speeds up once more.
God, she thinks- the woman is a creature of beauty. Tatyana holds no concern for her nakedness as she lets the dress drop to the tiles and toes it aside. Her hair, which falls in soft waves down her back, is soon twisted into a loose bun at the back of her neck…
Bella is frozen in place, forever doomed to live her life stuck- staring in wonder at the woman before her.
If only.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” she breathes as Tatyana moves toward the tub. Seems to be all she’s able to do lately- breathe and not fucking breathe, sometimes in that order, sometimes not.
What’s wrong with me?
Soon the bathroom is filling with steam and the calming scent of the lavender that Tatyana pours into the water. Only then does she turn those dark eyes back to Bella.
“Why are you still dressed?” she asks, letting those eyes drift down over Bella’s hips. “As adorable as that little lesbian outfit of yours is…”
Oh hey, Bella thinks, there's the return of that 'prey' feeling. Their eyes meet once more, and Tatyana’s head tilts in challenge, wondering if Bella is going to do as she’s asked or whether she’ll need to take charge in getting her naked.
“I think I’ve forgotten how to move,” Bella admits, “or brain. Possibly both.”
Definitely both. Her brain doesn’t even feel like it’s on this earth anymore, especially not when Tatyana takes this as her cue to come help Bella unbutton her shirt. “Well then,” she murmurs, “that simply won’t do.”
They remove her clothes in comfortable silence, broken only by Bella’s ragged breaths, which hitch with each accidental brush of Tatyana’s cold fingers against her skin. If the glint in Tatyana’s eye when her thumb brushes Bella’s nipple is anything to go by though, it’s not accidental at all.
They stiffen from the chill almost instantly.
“Oops, sorry.” Tatyana grins.
Sorry, my arse. Bella narrows her eyes, but her twitching lips give her away- and soon she's wearing a matching grin of her own.
Tatyana isn't sorry at all.
The warm water almost immediately soothes whatever anxiety she has left. She sinks into it with a groan, realising just how much she's missed having a tub. Her current apartment is painfully lacking in one, among many other things.
Lavender tickles her nose when Tatyana moves her legs beneath the water. She lounges back against the opposite end of the tub, and in this moment she reminds Bella of a Queen atop her throne- quiet, unassuming… and yet capable of so much with just a flick of her finger.
Bella's heart rate speeds up.
She would get on her knees for this woman without question.
She wants to.
"Can I ask you something?"
There's that infuriatingly gorgeous smirk again. "You just did," Tatyana teases, "but feel free to ask me another."
She thinks she’s so funny.
"You were already an ethereal at the time of the ascension," Bella says, hesitating only briefly before asking, "but how long had you lived in the shadows before that?"
Because Bella isn't stupid- she feels the raw power of the woman before her.
"It's rather rude to ask a woman her age, darling, but… you're cute, so…" she purrs, tilting her head just so. "I'm old enough that I'm considered an ancient among our kind."
Bella was right then- Tatyana is powerful.
"How old?" she asks, fascinated by the idea that she's sharing a tub and having a conversation with someone who lived more of history than Bella would likely ever be able to even learn.
Tatyana considers her question thoughtfully before answering. "I've walked the earth for a little over a millenia, give or take a few decades." she says.
Bella releases a gush of air. Give or take a few decades? This woman has seen a thousand years of history- lived a thousand years of it, and she simply waves away a decade or two that she may or may not have lived as though it's nothing…
Which it kind of is when you have eternity at your fingertips, Bella supposes. But still, it blows her mind.
"Not what you were expecting?" Tatyana says, raising a fine eyebrow. "Hard to believe, I know. I look rather good for my age, don’t you think?"
Again with the funny.
Ethereals don't age.
"I'm honestly speechless.”
Her response earns her a grin. “Because I’m so old?”
“No,” she answers automatically, and then blushes heavily at the slight bending of the truth. “Well actually, yes, but not in the way you’re thinking. Maybe it’s not so big a deal among your kind, but for us?” she says, raising both eyebrows. “I’ve never spoken to someone who has lived through so many eras. I have so many questions… I could keep you talking all night about the wicked stories of your youth.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now? The ‘wicked stories of my youth’.” she says, laughing. “I don’t particularly want to spend the night talking about myself, but I’ll make you a deal,” She pushes off the edge of the tub and drifts closer to Bella, continuing, “I’ll allow it if I get to ask you a question in return. A question for a question,” she murmurs, now practically sharing the same breath, “An answer for an answer.” Bella feels the heat of her stare, and she visibly swallows beneath it. “Is that agreeable?”
Biting her lip, she considers what Tatyana could possibly want to know about her. She isn’t interesting, or special, or really anything to write home about… but still, she agrees. She wants to know more about the fascinating woman before her, even if it means sharing things about herself.
It’s a risk she’s more than willing to take.
Her nod draws Tatyana even closer. “As per the rules of our agreement then,” she says, “it’s my turn to ask a question, correct? ”
Bella’s breathing is shallow but she manages to nod.
“Good,” she purrs, and those dark eyes flicker to Bella’s lips a moment. She smiles- nothing sincere or gentle in her expression as she then says, “Tell me what you want out of tonight.”
Bella swallows. “That isn’t a question.”
Amusement flashes behind those eyes. “Fine,” she says. “What do you want from tonight, Bella?”
Tatyana doesn’t need to ask- it’s clear what Bella wants in the way her body responds to her, the way she can’t stop watching her lips move as she speaks…
The way she leans forward, hoping for more, breathless for more.
“I want you.”
“That’s the simple answer. Not good enough.” she says with a gentle shake of her head. “Tell me why you’re here. I can see that you want me, but tell me why . Why are you here- what do you want?”
What did Bella want? Bella’s not sure she’s admitted that to herself, least of all said it out loud to another person. Not even Leah- who had made the assumption that tonight was about sex. And of course Bella didn’t deny it. Why would she?
She realises then that she isn’t sure how to answer Tatyana’s question. What possessed her to do what she did that day? To pick up that shiny black card and make the decision to take it that one step further? She could have put it back…
She should have put it back. After all, it didn’t belong to her, she didn’t pay for this. This wasn’t for her and yet…
She was the one to decide that it was . She made that decision- stole this experience from another… but why?
“I…” she trails off. Words fail her.
She can ask herself why all she likes, and pretend that she doesn’t know the exact fucking reason she took that card. She knows- she just doesn’t want to say it out loud because that makes it real.
That means she has to admit it to herself.
Her turmoil must be obvious- she feels a gentle touch on her knee beneath the water, but it feels different. It’s not what she expects following the touch of an ethereal. The water has warmed Tatyana’s body temperature, and Bella doesn’t like it.
“I missed it,” she whispers, terrified to voice her thoughts. She keeps her eyes down, watches that warm thumb rub circles just above her knee. “I miss the cold. That’s what I wanted from tonight. I wanted to feel it again…”
She wants more than just the cold though; she wants everything that comes with it…
Everything that she remembers .
Tatyana watches her- Bella can feel the burn of her stare, but she’s not ready to look up. If she looks up, she’ll see the questions, and maybe then Tatyana will brave asking those questions and Bella will either have to answer or refuse to answer, and she isn’t sure that she’s ready for that.
The hand slips off her leg, and Bella’s heart splinters- tears prick her eyes because she knows that she’s ruined it. That’s not the answer Tatyana wanted to hear and now she’s going to tell her to leave. Bella’s only chance to feel it all again… gone.
Tatyana brings her hand out of the water- and although it’s still warm when it cups Bella’s cheek, her skin is quickly beginning to cool and return to its normal temperature already.
“It’s yours tonight. I’m yours tonight,” comes Tatyana’s soft spoken reply, “if you want that still.”
Surely she’s not telling the truth, Bella thinks, her head snapping up in surprise, because what could possible be less sexy than whatever the fuck that just was? And that’s what tonight is about, isn’t it? No matter what driving force brought her to this moment, no matter what she tells Tatyana that she’s searching for…
Bella knows that she wants Tatyana, and that Tatyana wants her. She said it herself.
‘I don’t do anything that I do not want to do…’
In the silence that follows, Tatyana offers Bella a gentle smile and begins to stand. Water drips down her shoulders, over smooth skin and the hard peaks of her breasts, and Bella finds herself more and more enamoured by the second.
“Don’t you-” Bella shuts her mouth as quickly as she opens it, annoyed with herself. “Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to know?”
Wow, okay then. Apparently Bella is going to drag the topic through the mud and all the way to the surface regardless. Tatyana steps outside the tub and reaches for a towel, but she pauses in drying herself.
“I’ll admit that I’m curious, yes, but it leaves no standing on my decision.” she answers as she begins to towel herself off. “I know all I need to know in order to make that decision. Whatever you decide to tell me after this is purely your choice.”
There are no more words after that, and Bella appreciates it. She appreciates Tatyana , who’s given her plenty to think about. It’s difficult to accomplish when the woman in question is standing before her wearing no clothes though.
In the silence, there's no judgement or impatience, only the sounds of what Bella can only describe as 'domesticity'- the swish of the bath water as she idly washes her body, her soft breaths… the brush of the towel as Tatyana runs it up her leg, over her knee and along her thigh…
Bella would like very much to be that towel. She realises then that she's the only one stopping her.
She stands, and Tatyana's dark eyes slip over her once more. There's a question there, but Bella can't figure out what exactly it is, and so she reaches for the fresh towel offered to her without speaking. No words, no questions, no judgement.
Only an offer and…
Acceptance .
Bella takes the towel, their fingers brush, and she absently notes how the full chill of Tatyana’s touch has returned.
“I want it,” she says, realising the truth behind the words. “I want you.”
That’s new, and not something she expected to get out of tonight. This feeling of wanting not just the cold is something she hasn’t felt in so long, and it ought to scare her but… it doesn’t .
Tatyana meets her eye. “Then take me,” she murmurs, and offers her a soft smirk, “Tonight I’m yours.”
Bella is left wishing it was for more than just the night.