Chapter 5_Thirst
494 Words
The rose still sat on her windowsill.
Evi had hidden it behind her curtain, like it was some kind of sin. But every time she walked past the window, she felt it — that pull. That whisper in her blood.
Lucien had been here.
And somehow, she wanted him to come again.
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She tried to bury herself in distractions — school, assignments, coffee, playlists loud enough to drown thought. But nothing worked.
Not when the air itself tasted like him.
Not when every shadow seemed to move like him.
And then, late that evening, he returned.
Not in a dream.
Not in the mist.
But at her window.
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The curtains blew inward with a gust of wind. And there he stood. Inside.
Lucien.
In all his wicked beauty — skin like pale marble, hair jet black and tousled, leather jacket clinging to his tall frame.
His eyes… oh God. His eyes glowed like gold flames.
> “You’re not scared,” he said, watching her.
> “Should I be?” she whispered, heart hammering.
He stepped closer. “Absolutely.”
> “But you won’t hurt me,” she said—though it came out more like a question.
Lucien’s lips twitched, almost a smile.
> “No,” he murmured. “But I want to.”
Her breath caught. “Why?”
> “Because everything about you tempts me. Your scent, your heartbeat… your heat.”
He was inches from her now. His voice dropped, dark and low.
> “I can hear your blood rushing under your skin.”
Evi didn’t step back.
Instead, she tilted her chin up, her throat bare between them like an offering.
> “Then take it.”
Lucien froze.
The air between them grew thick, electric.
He reached out, brushing a cold finger down her neck—tracing the line of her pulse. Slowly. Reverently.
> “If I tasted you,” he said, “I’d never stop.”
> “Then don’t stop,” she whispered.
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Something in him snapped.
He pinned her to the wall in a blur of speed—his hands flat beside her head, his body pressing against hers.
His mouth hovered just at her throat, breath cool, intoxicating.
> “You don’t know what you're asking for,” he growled, voice almost shaking.
> “Then show me,” she said, her voice daring, breathless. “I want to know.”
Their eyes locked.
The fire in his gaze… it wasn’t just hunger.
It was restraint.
Barely controlled.
His lips brushed her collarbone — not a kiss, just heat. A warning.
But then he pulled away.
Just enough to keep her wanting.
> “Not yet,” he said. “If I taste you now, I’ll lose the last of my control. And that… would ruin you.”
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He stepped back.
Gone. Like smoke.
And Evi was left alone, panting, trembling…
and aching.
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- Writer
