Work Text:
Jennifer had been hungry for three days.
She still showed up at Devil’s Kettle High as usual, dressed in a fitted top beneath her hoodie, her long black hair falling smoothly over her shoulders. When the teacher passed by, she even lowered her head and pretended to type a few lines of her English paper.
But Anita could tell.
Jennifer’s pupils had been dilated almost all day.
Her shoulders were rigid. Her hot pink fingernails tapped restlessly against the desk. Whenever a boy walked past her, her gaze drifted toward his throat before she could stop herself.
At lunch, Jennifer ate one piece of the chicken breast Anita had packed for her, then pushed the container away and announced that it tasted bad.
By the afternoon, she had begun staring at Jonas’s wrist.
He had cut himself on the edge of a worksheet.
Barely anything.
Just a thin, bright line of red.
Jennifer stared for far too long…
Long enough that Anita, seated beside her, reached over and touched her hand, deliberately blocking her view.
“Look at me.”
Jennifer turned her head.
Her black hair made her face look even paler. Her eyes settled on Anita, but they did not focus immediately. It was as though she could still see through the slight frame of the blonde girl in front of her—past her glasses, past her sweater—to the small wound slowly welling with blood behind her.
“Move.”
“No.”
Jennifer’s jaw tightened.
“Needy.”
It sounded like a warning.
Anita did not move.
Instead, she leaned closer and closed her hand around Jennifer’s where it rested on the desk. Jennifer’s fingers were frighteningly cold.
They immediately curled around Anita’s hand in return.
Hard enough to hurt.
“We’re going home.”
“I’m working.”
Anita glanced at the laptop screen.
There was only one sentence.
The last word was misspelled.
“You’ve written one sentence in forty minutes.”
Jennifer’s expression did not change.
“It was a difficult sentence.”
Anita did not bother arguing.
She closed Jennifer’s books, gathered her things, and took her by the hand.
This time, Jennifer did not pull away.
But as they passed Jonas, she slowly turned her head and looked once more at the small cut on his wrist.
The look made him shiver.
Without knowing why, he tugged his sleeve down to cover it.
⸻
Anita had prepared everything in advance.
Beside the sink in the Lesnicki kitchen sat a dark metal bowl.
Inside it was fresh, uncooked meat.
It had taken Anita a long time to find the nerve to buy it.
At the butcher shop, she had stumbled through an explanation about her family owning a very large dog. The butcher had looked at her narrow shoulders and long blonde hair with obvious skepticism, but he had wrapped the meat for her anyway.
Anita did not ask too many questions.
She did not want to think too carefully about what Jennifer actually needed.
At least this was not human.
That was the final line Anita had drawn for herself.
When they arrived home, Jennifer did not even take off her shoes.
She stopped in the kitchen doorway.
The instant she caught the scent, her entire body went still.
Not relaxed.
Still in the way a predator became still after detecting prey.
Slowly, she raised her face.
Her dark hair framed her shoulders, and her once-bright eyes were almost entirely swallowed by her widened pupils.
“What is that?”
“Food.”
Jennifer’s gaze remained fixed on the metal bowl.
“For me?”
“Yes.”
She moved closer.
There was none of her usual laziness in the way she walked, none of the loose confidence of the beautiful girl who knew everyone in the hallway was watching her.
Her footsteps were light.
Her shoulders lowered.
Her eyes never left the bowl.
Anita stood beside the sink and picked up a piece of raw meat.
She had meant to place it on a plate and slide it toward Jennifer.
Jennifer did not give her the chance.
She seized Anita’s wrist.
The pressure made Anita wince.
“Jen.”
Jennifer did not answer.
She lowered her head until the tip of her nose nearly touched Anita’s fingers.
Juice from the meat slid slowly between Anita’s knuckles.
One drop reached the delicate bone of her wrist.
Jennifer bent down at once and licked it away.
Her tongue was hot.
Anita’s breath caught.
Jennifer’s eyes remained fixed on the meat in her palm.
“Slowly…”
Jennifer opened her mouth and bit down.
Her teeth scraped Anita’s fingertips.
Too close.
Anita felt the sharp points press briefly against her skin.
Jennifer suddenly stopped.
For one terrible moment, she could no longer distinguish between the meat and Anita.
Her pupils constricted.
A low, rough sound rose from her throat.
She tightened her grip on Anita’s wrist and jerked her forward.
Anita collided with her body.
Her glasses were knocked slightly crooked.
“Jen. Look at me.”
Jennifer did not lift her head.
Her lips remained against the inside of Anita’s wrist, her hurried breaths washing over the thin skin there. Her teeth still rested against it, dangerously close.
One small movement…
One fraction more pressure…
And they would break through.
Anita did not pull away.
She raised her free hand and touched the back of Jennifer’s neck.
The muscles beneath her black hair were as hard as stone.
“It’s me.”
The sound in Jennifer’s throat deepened.
It was not an answer.
It sounded as if she were fighting something inside herself—something hungrier, stronger, and far less interested in listening.
“You don’t eat me.”
At last, Jennifer looked up.
There was almost nothing human in her eyes.
Only hunger.
Only the desperate need to fill the emptiness inside her.
Anita’s heart struck hard against her ribs.
She knew Jennifer had heard her.
She also knew hearing her had not made Jennifer obedient.
Jennifer did not release her. Instead, she dragged Anita more tightly against her and buried her face in the side of her neck.
She inhaled deeply.
Hungrily.
Was she confirming something?
Trying to tell the difference?
The smell of meat.
The smell of blood.
The smell of Anita.
The faint trace of shampoo in her blonde hair. The softness of her knit sweater. The warm, living blood beating beneath her skin.
After several seconds, Jennifer tore her face away, grabbed the meat from the bowl, and finally lost what little patience she had left.
⸻
Anita had never truly watched Jennifer eat before.
She had only seen the aftermath.
Blood.
Bodies.
The stains Jennifer sometimes forgot to wipe from the corner of her mouth.
The desks at school that suddenly remained empty.
Now it was happening directly in front of her.
Jennifer did not use a knife or fork.
She seized the meat with both hands and tore into it.
She ate quickly.
Violently.
Her teeth ripped through muscle and tissue with a wet sound that made Anita’s skin crawl. Red liquid coated her fingers, her mouth, and her chin before running down her wrists.
Anita stood less than a step away.
She should have looked elsewhere.
She did not.
Jennifer truly ate like an animal.
Not a sweet animal.
Not something small and harmless that could be stroked until it calmed down.
She looked like something that had dragged its kill out of the darkest part of the forest—something possessive enough to tear apart anyone foolish enough to come near it.
Her shoulders rose and fell with every swallow.
Her black hair hung over her face, several strands sticking to her blood-smeared cheek.
The face that was always so immaculate at school had lost every trace of civilization.
She was terrifyingly beautiful.
Anita lifted her hand, intending to brush the hair away from her face.
The instant her fingers came close, Jennifer snapped at her.
The movement was almost too fast to see.
Anita’s hand stopped in midair.
Jennifer’s teeth hovered less than an inch from her fingers.
Both of them froze.
A warning growl rumbled in Jennifer’s throat.
Anita watched her through glasses that had begun to slide down her nose.
She did not retreat.
“It’s still me.”
Jennifer’s breathing was heavy.
Her lips were covered in blood.
Several seconds passed.
She did not bite.
But she did not recoil like a guilty dog, either.
Instead, she drove her forehead hard into Anita’s open palm.
She rubbed against it once.
Hard.
As though she needed to feel Anita’s bones beneath her skin to prove she was still there.
Then she did it again.
Blood smeared across Anita’s hand.
“You almost bit me.”
Jennifer did not apologize.
She turned back toward the bowl and continued eating.
But one blood-slick hand reached out and caught the hem of Anita’s sweater.
It did not let go.
Anita remained beside her, allowing Jennifer to clutch the fabric.
After a while, she reached for her again.
More slowly this time.
Her fingers slipped through Jennifer’s long black hair and carefully tucked the sticky strands behind her ear.
Jennifer did not attack her again.
She only lowered her head and began eating faster…
As though, now that Anita had touched her, she could finally feed without fear.
⸻
The bowl was empty within minutes.
After swallowing the last mouthful, Jennifer remained standing with her head bowed.
For a moment, the kitchen was silent except for her breathing.
Then the tension inside her slowly began to recede.
Her pupils dilated.
Her shoulders loosened.
She licked the blood from her fingers and turned toward Anita.
She looked happy.
Not satisfied in the ordinary, human way of someone finishing a meal.
This was purer than that.
Unburdened.
Complete.
Her eyes were bright again. The corner of her mouth lifted.
The creature that had nearly bitten through Anita’s fingers now resembled a well-fed black cat searching for its favorite person to rub against.
Jennifer crossed the distance between them in a single step.
“Wait.”
Jennifer did not wait.
She threw her arms around Anita.
Her grip tightened fiercely, crushing the more slender girl against her body.
Blood from Jennifer’s arms and chest immediately stained Anita’s pale sweater.
“Jen, you’re covered in—”
Jennifer kissed her.
The taste of blood flooded Anita’s mouth.
Strong.
Warm.
Mixed with raw flesh and the familiar taste of Jennifer’s lips.
Anita instinctively turned her face away.
Jennifer followed at once.
One hand closed around the back of Anita’s head, forcing her to turn back.
There was no restraint in the kiss.
Jennifer had eaten. Her strength had returned, and every emotion inside her seemed full to the point of overflowing. It was as though she no longer had to worry that affection might become hunger, that she might accidentally tear Anita apart…
So she poured every suppressed impulse into her instead.
She bit Anita’s lower lip.
Her tongue swept across the corner of her mouth.
Then she kissed her deeply.
Anita tasted iron.
Her glasses kept sliding down as Jennifer pressed closer. Eventually, Jennifer pulled them off and tossed them beside the sink without looking.
“You taste awful.”
Jennifer laughed softly against her lips.
“You’re still kissing me.”
Anita was.
She had not pushed Jennifer away.
Instead, she raised both hands and held Jennifer’s blood-smeared face. Her thumb moved across the corner of Jennifer’s mouth, but only spread the mess further.
“You should wash first.”
Jennifer kissed her again.
“Later.”
“The kitchen looks like a crime scene.”
“It’s not.”
Anita glanced at the bloody sink, the counter, and the floor.
“That is not remotely comforting.”
Jennifer apparently decided she was talking too much.
She kissed her again to silence her.
Anita was forced backward step by step until the edge of the counter pressed against her waist.
Jennifer lifted her immediately and set her on top of it.
The movement was so effortless that Anita might as well have weighed nothing.
Then Jennifer stepped between her knees.
She planted both hands on either side of Anita’s body.
Bloody palm prints appeared on the pale surface of the counter.
Bright, unmistakable marks of possession.
“You’re very happy now.”
Jennifer lowered her head and rubbed the tip of her nose against Anita.
First her cheek.
Then her chin.
Finally, she buried her entire face in the side of Anita’s neck, apparently unconcerned by how much blood covered her.
“I’m full.”
“I can tell.”
Jennifer opened her mouth and bit lightly into Anita’s neck.
Not hard.
But hard enough to leave a blood-rimmed impression of her teeth.
“You just ate.”
“Not you.”
Then she began to “eat” Anita.
She kissed her chin.
The place behind her ear.
Then she moved slowly down the side of her neck, biting and kissing in small, hungry increments.
Every touch carried the taste and smell of blood.
Within moments, Anita’s skin was damp, disordered, covered in red smears and darkening marks.
“You’re getting blood everywhere.”
“It’ll wash off.”
“Not from this sweater.”
Jennifer paused and looked down.
The front of Anita’s pale gray sweater was covered with bloody handprints and streaks left by Jennifer’s face.
“Take it off.”
Anita stared at her.
Even without her glasses, her pale green eyes were clear enough that Jennifer could not avoid them.
“That was not the solution I meant.”
Jennifer’s hands were already gripping the hem of the sweater.
Anita gently caught her wrists.
Not because she did not want Jennifer close.
Only because she wanted to stop her from immediately ruining another piece of clothing.
“Bath.”
Jennifer frowned.
“You nearly bit my hand off.”
“I didn’t.”
“And now you’ve covered me in raw meat.”
Jennifer lowered her head and sniffed the side of Anita’s neck.
“You smell like me.”
She clearly considered that an improvement.
Anita sighed.
Jennifer only rubbed against her more insistently.
She pressed her face against Anita’s chest, wrapped both arms around her waist, and nearly pulled Anita completely off the counter and into her body.
Jennifer was always clingier after feeding.
More impatient, too.
She would not tolerate Anita giving her attention to anything else.
Not the metal bowl in the sink.
Not the blood on the floor.
Not the kitchen that needed cleaning.
Not the paper due tomorrow.
None of it mattered.
Jennifer wanted to hold her.
She wanted to kiss her.
She wanted to cover Anita from head to toe in her scent.
“You’re behaving like an animal.”
Jennifer raised her face.
A streak of red still marked the corner of her mouth.
“You fed me like one.”
Anita had no answer to that.
Jennifer kissed her, pleased with herself.
“Do it again tomorrow.”
“You can buy it yourself.”
“You taste better when you’re taking care of me.”
Anita’s ears slowly turned pink.
She knew Jennifer was manipulating her.
She knew the demon was frighteningly good at reshaping dependence into a responsibility only Anita could fulfill.
Still, she raised her hand and stroked Jennifer’s hair.
“You need to learn not to snap at my hands.”
Something shifted in Jennifer’s expression.
“Then don’t put them near my food.”
“I was trying to help you.”
Jennifer tightened her arms around her.
“Then hold me when I’m done.”
Anita lowered her eyes.
Jennifer was not asking.
She was establishing a rule that seemed perfectly reasonable to her.
After feeding her, Anita had to stay.
She had to let Jennifer confirm that she was still there.
She had to endure the rubbing, the biting, the endless kisses until the final traces of wildness inside Jennifer had settled.
Anita knew it was not normal.
She opened her arms anyway.
Jennifer immediately buried herself against her.
⸻
In the end, they still did not go upstairs to bathe.
Jennifer sat on the kitchen floor with her back against the cabinets, holding Anita sideways in her lap. Their clothes and skin were streaked with blood.
Jennifer rested her chin on Anita’s shoulder and kissed her neck every few seconds.
At first, once every ten seconds.
Then every five.
Eventually, her lips hardly left Anita’s skin at all.
“You’re going to rub my skin raw.”
“I’ll lick it better.”
“That does not reassure me anymore.”
Jennifer laughed under her breath.
Even her laughter sounded more alive now that she had eaten.
Anita leaned against her chest and listened to the heart behind her.
A heart that might no longer have belonged to anything human.
It beat slowly.
Powerfully.
Once.
Again.
Right against Anita’s back.
Anita lifted her bloodstained hand.
Jennifer had nearly bitten through it only minutes ago.
Now the dangerous thing holding her took that same wrist and lowered her head, pressing a kiss to each of Anita’s fingers.
One by one.
As though reclaiming something she had almost damaged.
As though marking it as hers again.
“You scared me.”
Jennifer went still.
She did not apologize.
She only held Anita tighter.
“You stayed.”
“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t afraid.”
Jennifer buried her face in Anita’s blonde hair.
“Be afraid here.”
Her arms locked around Anita like iron.
“Not somewhere I can’t reach you.”
It was not comfort.
It was an order.
Anita closed her eyes and leaned farther into her embrace.
“You’re impossible.”
Jennifer kissed the place behind her ear for a long time.
“And you fed me.”
Anita could not argue with that.
She had placed the meat in the demon’s mouth herself.
Jennifer had not become safe.
Anita had not cured her.
She had only become the first thing Jennifer searched for after feeding.
Food filled Jennifer’s stomach.
Anita filled everything that remained.
And that part of her…
That part would never be full.