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As the Seasons Grey	By : christinecornell Category: Celebrities - Misc > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 46 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Started life as kinky Christmas-related short stories in 2022 and took on a life of its own shortly thereafter. 100 fiction, none of this is real, and I own nothing except for the character of Christine.

Chapter List
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She had no idea as to how she had wound up on that ledge before the storm had found its way into the valley. All she knew was she had to wait for him. The bricks behind her felt as cold as ice, as smooth as the kiss of death that she awaited out there in the secret garden.
Her body nude and out in the open, and she knew that it would only be a matter of time. They had made that promise to one another before she had shown up there on that ledge, and she knew that he would be the one to talk her down from it. She had no idea as to how they had come to that conclusion together, and indeed, she had no memory of it. All she knew was she had to stand there and wait for him to arrive from the forest down below.
There was that moment in which she had met him in another time, another life, and she could feel him against her own flesh. She could feel that skin pressed up against her own, that little body with her own, and she swore that she had seen death itself in his eyes.
Christine shivered from the slight breeze from around the warehouse: all she could remember was climbing up onto that ledge over the back door of the warehouse. She had no idea as to where she had run to, or where this forest had resided before, or where this forest had even originated from.
Somewhere along the way, she had to find her way back to the safety of the cabin, to the safest spot that she knew away from the rest of the world.
Her fingers spread over the face of those cold bricks, and she inched along the ledge. Her bare feet stayed pointed forward as she made her way along the wall towards the window there right next to her.
She took a quick glimpse down to the ground below her, and the vast stretch of greenery there. Though she wasn’t that high up off the ground, she knew that she simply could not afford to jump off there in one fell swoop.
A rustling in the bushes caught her attention, and she raised her gaze to the trees before her. A few of those low shrubs up front quivered and quaked as if a hearty round of high winds had come up before her, but then again, she also wondered about something of a bear or a creature ready to swoop in for her. She pursed her lips together, and she braced herself for the worst.
His tall, slender body emerged from the darkness down below. With his long black coat wrapped around his body and his hair ruffled all about the crown of his head, she knew where he had just emanated from. He rested his hands on the lapels of that jacket to give himself a little adjustment of sorts: she made out the view of the black vest underneath as well as the white silk shirt there. Some white silk which seemed a bit unfortunate the more that she thought about it.
“Alex!” she called out to him, and he peered up to the ledge with his eyebrows raised. He brought a finger to his lips as if to silence her for a moment before he made his way up to her. Christine held still on the ledge with her back up against the bricks.
Alex glanced both ways as if he was crossing the street, and then he darted across the grass towards the hedges down below her bare feet. He gazed up at her and the bare breasts which hung out for him, and he showed her a little smile: the warehouse lights washed over the side of his face, which in turn gave it a lighter contrast in comparison to the other side, so it looked as though he had two faces perched upon his neck.
He looked around for a ladder or stairs of some kind there against the ledge. She watched him for a moment, before a moment of clarity struck him. He ducked over to her left side, towards the left corner of the warehouse, and she watched him stand before something there on the wall underneath the ledge: she couldn’t exactly see it given it remained right outside of her line of sight, and she wouldn’t risk leaning so far as to fall off the ledge, but she waited a couple of minutes before she spotted the head of black hair against the ledge itself.
“Is there a reason why I'm here?” she asked him in a broken voice.
“I believe there is,” he replied as he set one foot on the ledge, followed by the other. Careful not to fall himself, he pressed his body against the bricks, only a few feet away from her.
He tugged down the bottom of his shirt, although it seemed futile, given he was going to keep on doing that for the duration of their rendezvous there on the ledge.
“Come to me,” he whispered, complete with a hand extended out to her.
Careful not to fall forth, Christine inched her way towards him until the tips of her fingers brushed against his own. He closed his eyes and parted his lips, as if he beckoned a kiss from her. She moved in closer to him, until she was all but in his arms.
“Let me bleed for you,” he whispered to her as he slithered down the wall. It was tricky for him, but he managed to squat down underneath her. She followed suit right next to him, and she kept her arm across his chest.
“Bleed for me,” she begged him. “Bleed for yourself.”
Alex closed his eyes, and he pressed his hands to the bricks behind him and slid his back down as far as he could take it. Christine put her arms around his waist, and she pressed her hip against the wall as if to pin herself to it.
She opened her mouth over his skin for the first kiss. The taste of warmth against her lips and her tongue, the soft silken sensation of life itself against her own skin.
A gentle kiss on that neck, only for her to bump it up to a few little licks from the tip of her tongue.
The licks soon were followed by something that brought a little smirk out of him: she puckered her lips and sucked on his skin, and she knew that he was thinking about something else.
A breeze fluttered up before them for real that time around, but she was unfazed by it, despite being pinned up against the cold bricks of the warehouse wall.
“Are you ready?” she whispered into his ear.
“Please. Take me. Take me under. Take me from this earth. I'm done here.”
Another suck on his skin and she knew he was not exaggerating. She opened her mouth and the fangs slid out from where her canines used to be.
Her fangs sank into the side of his neck, such that he writhed from the pain and the sudden loss of blood on his part, but he relaxed once she had a hold of him. She held onto his chest with one hand as she drew the blood from that beautiful vein. Alex let out a soft, low sigh as she drank it down for herself and injected her venom into him all the while. He kept his free hand up against the bricks behind him: the breeze no longer made a difference to either of them, especially to him. She drained him dry which nourished her state of undeath, and in return, she gave him her venom.
The color of life washed out from his skin to where it resembled porcelain: the small plume of gray over the right side of his brow expanded and broadened over the crown of his head to the point he looked as though he had a deep scar there.
Christine let go of him and she shook her head about. She wiped away the extraneous blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, and she glanced back at him. Alex opened his eyes: those blue irises as blue as ever, however they seemed a touch more shadowy than before; his eyes danced with shadow and the feeling that the human boy from before was gone, forever immortalized and frozen in time. His lips seemed softer and plusher in appearance, and the shape of his face resembled the full moon on a winter’s night. His hair had grown darker, to the point of pure blackness, like the night sky following a raging snowstorm. He raised his hands for a look on at their long and lanky shape, at the way that his fingers seemed so perfectly straight and yet they carried the appearance of the exposed bones of a skeleton.
“I’m a broken man,” he warbled out for her.
She kissed him on the side of the neck again, right where she had drawn his blood, and the bite marks closed away as fast as they had opened. In their wake were a quartet of soft, beautiful little scars in the shape of six-pointed stars.
“Not anymore,” she whispered right into his ear.
He gazed at her with his lips slightly parted, and his hands out before him still.
“She can’t break you anymore,” she assured him. He rubbed his eyes and then ran his fingers down along the front of his face. The light from the warehouse windows right behind them bathed him in a soft milky glow. Soft and tender, almost like the kiss of death itself. “She can never break you—ever again.”
Christine loomed in closer to him as if to kiss him again, but she never did once.
“I need you to seek revenge on her,” she told him.
“Seek revenge? How?”
“You must indulge in your first kill,” she said. “Your first kill is what confirms you as the vampire. With the theme of revenge inside of there, you doubly confirm yourself. I will tell you this—if you seek revenge on her, and it’s your first kill—” She moved in closer to his ear. “—I will treat you to something special. Something sensual. Something that I know your human self could not sustain in a single hair’s breadth.”
He raised his eyebrows at that.
“And how do I prove that I killed her?” he asked her.
“Bring me back her head,” she told him. “Drain her, and then bring me back her head.” She kissed him again, and that time around, she straightened her spine. It was a dangerous love affair, but she knew what she wanted. There was a world of pleasure behind those eyes, and she was more than willing to tap into it. Tap into it as she did with her own.
Christine kissed him once more before he leapt down from the ledge. She followed suit, even though she was bare naked, and she could have very easily and very readily landed in those bushes down below her as well. Alex turned her: the breeze billowed his coattail around all the while, and he cracked her that decadent sweet smile, the smile of a serial killer and one who also sought pleasure on top of it.
“I’ll be right back,” he vowed, and he ducked back into the trees. Christine awaited him, and she knew that no one could see her back there.
By the time the quarter of the moon had risen over the treetops, the bushes before her rustled once more, and he emerged once again. He cradled in his hands, the head of the woman who had abused him and manipulated him for so long. Blood trickled out from her eye sockets, her dark hair matted to her forehead and what used to be her neck, and Christine showed him a smile in response.
Alex held onto the head with one hand, and he wiped the extra blood from the corner of his mouth.
“I assume it was rather gruesome,” she suggested as she ran her fingertips over her nipples to stimulate them.
“Oh, it was,” he told her, and he held the head before his bare waist: she could see that he had indulged rather well back there. “Let’s just say she was pretty—mad, too. But I got her good. I got her well. She couldn’t stop me, and she couldn’t stop you if you did the same as well.
“Shall we?” she said with a gesture towards him.
“We shall,” he replied, and he rested the head on the bushes behind her, and he licked his fingers of the extra blood. She put her arms around his waist, and she planted a kiss on his lips: he returned the favor by wrapping her naked body with the side of his coat. He stuck his free hand in between her legs for a fondling of her bare, exposed clit, which in turn made her gasp.
He lowered himself down onto the ground, flat onto his back for her. She gently kissed his bare waist to stimulate him as well: when she opened his trousers, she saw that he was already hard on with arousal.
She put her lips around the tip and suckled on him, slow, deep, and hard. His skin there was extra smooth and cold, perfect for the taking; she ran her tongue along his shaft until she made sight of the full erection, one ready to blow. He was ready for her to climb on top of him and have him suckle on her to round out the first number for their state of undeath. His tongue slithered over the insides of her lips and the hood, and she returned the favor with him, with her tongue all along his shaft and the head.
They would rise to the occasion, one right after the other: Alex, however, made her climax more than once, a feeling that no other woman had summoned out for him and his velvet tongue.
A moment alone with the vampires while the head of his abuser watched them in utter helplessness, in an act of sweet redemption.
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As the Seasons Grey