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The bus bounced and swayed, seats creaking with every pothole carved into the worn road. His hair tickled your cheek from where he had hidden away in the crook of your neck. He hated every second of this, you knew it.
He hated the eyes. He hated being forced into this tight box filled to the brim with people, every spot filled with a stranger whose eyes he could not fend off. Strange eyes on strange faces watching the show of him and his strange behavior. You were surprised he hadn’t crawled out of his skin this far into your trip, but you supposed you helped to relieve some of his anxiety.
You sucked in a breath, shifting in your seat. Another pair of eyes turned in your direction, drawn in by the sound, but ultimately fell away once they landed on the man slumped against you with a sigh. His grip tightened on your arm and a moan built in your throat. Oh, he was so annoyed and you loved it.
He had started twitching excessively long before you even boarded the bus, misanthropy running so deep in his veins it long ruined his mood. The night before last you had come to the conclusion that you would be forced to travel a long way and the bus a much wiser choice opposed to traversing the forest as you had been for the last few days. It was wiser, but he despised it more than anything.
He hated the people and he hated the bus and he hated every bump and jerk of the bus. He hated this claustrophobic feeling, keeping his breath short and tight and you felt it in the way he bled you with your own knife.
You never knew who you would be boarding a bus with, especially one crossing over state lines. No one wanted to be the person to get stabbed, so everyone kept to themselves. They didn’t question odd behavior beyond a sideways glance and so nobody noticed the way his body was angled toward you, blocking you in. No one saw the way he held you in a bruising grip, knife tip dragging over your skin like it was loving touch rather than mutilation.
He had been getting himself so worked up over nothing, you couldn’t just leave him to flounder all by his lonesome. You had taken your time last night to push the score out of balance, yanking alcohol off of a few unfortunate people was a pain, but it was more than worth the energy to get him drunk.
The sex had been sloppy, so preoccupied with trying to guzzle down the liquor that you ended up wasting most of it trying to drink it from one another’s mouth. And once the bottles had run out, he followed the spilled trails down your body with his tongue.
And once the buzz settled deep into his bones they turned to jelly, and he laid back into the grass, allowing you to mouth along his skin. You ran your tongue over every freckle and mole, gnawing every raised scar, sinking your teeth into the pale wash of skin, praying to rip a chunk out of him.
The birds watched from the trees overhead, judging your vile sin. He groused over their eyes too. You hushed him and sealed your mouth over his ribcage, setting your teeth along the bite scar crossing over the bones. It was a small memento from your first meeting, long before you knew how much you would come to adore him. Back when he chased you with the sole hope of tearing you limb from limb rather than ravaging your body.
You mumbled devotion against his skin as you lit a cigarette, something to be discarded after you were done, he refused to kiss you after you smoked. You had pressed a kiss to his bicep, peppering sentiments of love, spelling out your initial. Your cigarette followed after each kiss, burning your mark into him. He would never escape you now, even in death.
He moaned and squirmed, smoke kindling on his charred flesh. You couldn’t be helped, dragging your tongue over the poker hot letter, feeling it smolder against your tongue. He tasted like smoke and you told him as such before he pulled you down to the forest floor with him.
You had resisted him last night, when he crooned and pleaded to return the favor, to curse you as his forevermore. You layered wet kisses to his lips and promised him another time. And such a time had come.
Your whole body ached with the echo of sex and infatuation. Your legs squeezed together, offering you no relief to this stinging edge of pain and pleasure. You barely withheld a shudder as the knife dipped deeper into your meat with another jolt of the bus. He pressed a distracted kiss to your shoulder, he hadn’t bled like you were, he wanted to drink down every last drop, but he couldn’t stand another set of eyes passing over him.
You closed your eyes just as they started to roll back, barely able to remember yourself and social propriety as you were lost in the sea of euphoria. Perhaps it would have been smarter to allow him this last night, when you laid tangled together in his sleeping bag considering how deeply you wanted to peel off his clothing.
He shuddered and made a squeaking sound into your shoulder, his neck popping with a sudden jerk just a second after. He needed this now, patience was a virtue. Your chest heaved as he finished crossing his initial, a red T blistering your skin like his had in the early dawn morning. You felt his mouth curl up into a bright smile and his teeth clinked against your knife as he drank your blood. Forevermore.