GOLDEN BLOOD

Her fragrance was still in the air, a constant reminder of her presence. Day and night, thoughts of her tormented him.

‘You left me...’

Although Paris had lost touch, her heart still quickened at the mere thought of him.

‘You never stopped me...’

The absence of love deeply affected them in a way they never expected. They couldn't help but ask themselves one burning question:

'Why did you become so selfish? Why didn't you care for me?'

Days turned into nights, and the memories were a constant torment. She couldn't help but constantly think of Alexander, his image, and their many kisses. She believed that keeping her distance would ease the pain, but it only intensified her longing for him with each passing day.

Her heartache clawed at her chest as time went on. Every thought of Alexandar stirred up a fresh wave of emotions, drowning her in sorrow. She couldn't hold back the tears whenever he crossed her mind.

But despite the agony in her heart, Paris couldn't shake the unyielding hope that nestled within her. She tried to find solace in the memories of their laughter, their stolen moments of joy, and the promises whispered under the moonlit sky. Each fleeting touch, each shared smile, fueled her belief that their love was not lost to the winds of time.

In the quiet solitude of her thoughts, Paris clung to the possibility that Alexander would come back to her, that he would realize the depth of her love.

Meanwhile, Michael notices Paris's misery at work and tries to cheer her up with friendly gestures. Despite Michael's persistent attempts to woo her, Paris couldn't bring herself to entertain the idea of moving on. The more she resisted Michael's advances, the more she realized that her love for Alexander was an unbreakable bond.

Terence arrived at Paris' door to collect the weekly blood bags.

"Good evening, Miss Noel," he greeted her.

"Hello, Terence. I've been waiting for you with a cup of tea?"

"My apology for keeping you waiting." He took a seat at the table. "How are you holding up?"

"It's just about managing without him," she replied solemnly. What was I even expecting in the first place? I thought there was something special in how he treated me, but he only showed me his kindness."

She couldn't understand how someone who had been so kind and caring towards her could not feel anything for her.

They lapsed into a brief silence. Terence sipped his tea, and Paris tried to push away thoughts of Alexander from her mind. But it was impossible; he had occupied such a significant space in her heart that it felt empty without him.

"We weren't even dating," Paris finally said after some time. But here I am, moping over a breakup." She sighed, feeling silly for getting so attached to someone who didn't feel the same way.

“How is he doing? Is he okay? Is he drinking well?” she asked with concern, but Terence remained silent—he had been listening since he'd arrived.

"Please make sure he's well taken care of. I know you always have been. And... could you maybe let him know that I miss him? Actually, never mind, don't tell him that. I shouldn't be saying those things anymore."

Terence couldn’t deny the heartache they both were suffering. If only he could tell her how much he longed for her.

~*~

“You’re back,” Alexander greeted Terence as he appeared in the kitchen. Alexander was conveniently in the kitchen. Clearly, he had been waiting expectantly, hoping for some news or a kind message from Paris.

Alexander held her in high regard but hadn't quite grasped how special she was.

Terence carefully stored the two blood bags in the refrigerator and shut the door with a soft click.

“Did she say anything? Did she ask about me?”

"No, Master," Terence replied, keeping his tone neutral. He didn't technically lie since Paris had specifically instructed him not to mention anything to Alexander.

"Really?" Alexander sounded genuinely surprised. It was difficult for him to accept that Paris would completely ignore him like this; it seemed out of character for her.

Terence suggested, “If you need to converse with her, why not call her Master?”

Alexander's jaw tightened in frustration.

“Leave me be,” he said through gritted teeth.

“As you wish, Master.”

It deeply troubled him, more than he cared to admit. The fact that he couldn't be with her or touch her bothered him immensely. He knew he couldn't give her what she wanted, but it still annoyed him to think someone else could give it to her instead.

’How could she ignore me like this? I treated her with love and respect, and this is what she thinks of me. Did she forget all the special moments we shared? Angels must be cold-hearted creatures too.'

In the past couple of weeks, Alexander's depression had worsened. The evening air was cool and pleasant, but he couldn't shake his restlessness. Spending time with Paris was a highlight for him, but now that she was gone... he felt lost and bored. He wondered how he used to pass his time before meeting her and what he did besides waiting for her and planning their visits together.

The old man addressed Terence with a serious tone: "I need to go away for a while. Make the necessary arrangements."

"Yes, Master. Where would you like to go for your rebound period?" Terence asked calmly.

"Do you have a death wish?" Alexander snapped back at him.

"Perhaps it would be beneficial for you to visit one of your English castles or the Italian Villa, or even... Paris?" Terence suggested smoothly, carefully omitting the word "Chateaux" before her name.

Yes, he wanted to go to Paris. His mind and body wanted to be with her. But his stubborn nature wouldn’t allow it. Even his heart was beating to it.

He turned away from Terence, hiding the physical pain caused by the movement. "Italy..." The vampire's tone was cold, but his expression was unreadable.

The heartless vampire decided to distract himself tonight by visiting the gentlemen's club. It had been a while since he had been there, and he hoped it would help him get over her.

The den was shrouded in a thick, gray fume of cigars, the scent of alcohol permeating the air and stinging his nostrils. The dim lights cast shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere of mystery and intrigue.

As soon as he entered, a beautiful woman with glossy hair and shimmering eyes welcomed him with a sultry smile. The other women in the room quickly took notice and flocked around him, vying for his attention. They batted their long lashes and trailed their manicured nails down his arms seductively, their feminine charms on full display.

He adores women, and most importantly, he loves sex. After regaining his stamina and ability to achieve an erection easily, he can last for hours on end without tiring.

Perhaps he could handle two or even five at a time. While sifting through the options, far from the bustling crowd, his eyes landed on a woman with flowing brown locks who bore a striking resemblance to Paris. He decided to choose her for tonight's entertainment. She seemed delighted by his choice, as he could tell from her expression.

They entered a secluded room together, and the woman shut the door behind them.

"What would you care to drink, Sir?" she asked him. He scanned her attire.

"Take them off," he commanded, and she immediately shed her clothing.

Gracefully making her way towards him, she reached up to slowly unbutton his jacket. Her fingers brushed against the fabric, feeling its softness and warmth. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, enveloping her senses as she removed the jacket from his broad shoulders.

The leather creaked slightly as it slid off, revealing the crisp white shirt underneath. She couldn't help but notice the defined muscles of his chest and arms beneath the fabric. As she carefully hung the jacket over a nearby chair, she glanced at him, admiring his appearance and feeling a surge of desire wash over her.

She leaned close and whispered, "How would you like to play, Sir? Rough or hardcore?" Her voice dripped with seduction as she went to kiss his lips.

“No.” He refused sternly.

The woman's eyes widened at his refusal, her face contorting with disappointment and perhaps a hint of anger. Her previously seductive gaze now held a hint of hurt and confusion.

"No problem," she said, her voice soft and warm. A gentle smile played at the corners of her lips as she kneeled down in front of him. Her fingers delicately grasped his belt, loosening it with ease before moving on to the zipper of his pants. With a slow and deliberate motion, she unzipped him, revealing the fabric of his boxers underneath.

He had come here to engage in sexual relations. This was supposed to be exciting, but all he felt was a sense of unease and disconnection. Her touch was electric, but it only served to magnify his discomfort. Her perfume enveloped him, almost suffocatingly so.

She slipped her hand into his boxers, but she was disappointed to find that he wasn't aroused.

Her voice was warm and reassuring as she spoke, "Leave it up to me, I'll make you feel good."

She took him into her mouth with a confident smile and began to work her magic. Her tongue slithered and danced around him, slurping and caressing his every inch. But despite her efforts, nothing happened. The tension in the air grew thicker as both of them desperately hoped for a different outcome.

It was getting a bit frustrating. ‘What the hell is wrong with me? I got hard every time I was with Paris. Then why didn’t it work with her?’

Alexander shut his eyes, and the memory of Paris flooded his mind.

"Paris," he whispered, her name a constant presence in his thoughts.

“My name is Pamela, but whatever makes your boat float,” she said, leaned in closer, and opened her mouth to take him again.

"Enough!" He put some bills on the bed before and left the room.

And he found himself standing in the one place where he could breathe easily, where his muscles relaxed and his mind cleared.

Paris was still at work, and Alexander decided to linger in the place as long as possible, wanting to bask in her presence until she returned. The space may have been empty, but it filled with her vibrant energy.

He entered cautiously, knowing he was trespassing her space, invading her sanctuary.

Alexander's eyes swept over every inch of the room, taking in every detail, searching for any trace of her presence. The air seemed to hold a hint of her perfume, her essence lingering in the space. He couldn't explain why he had come here, but he knew he wanted to be here.

His gaze fell upon a shawl draped over the sofa. He picked it up and brought it to his face, inhaling deeply as if trying to capture a memory. The fabric was soft against his skin, reminding him of the warmth and comfort that only she could provide.

"Paris," Alexander whispered contentedly, closing his eyes. Her scent was as intoxicating as her blood. He had never encountered a woman like her - so graceful and breathtakingly beautiful.

His spine tingled with pleasure at the smell; it was the only one that could bring solace not just to his physical body but to his very soul. He longed to savor her scent every day, for eternity if possible.

He headed towards her bedroom, flopped onto her bed, and let his body sink into the soft mattress. Like a gentle breeze, unseen, but he was aware of her presence; she was the very air he needed to survive.

The memories of her touch and kisses were still as clear and real as ever. She was constantly on his mind, consuming his thoughts. He couldn't concentrate on anything else.

“You thief, you stole all my peace at heart.”

The sound of the front door rattle alerted Alexander--Paris had arrived. He didn't need to guess; he knew it was her.

In a flash, he ducked behind the curtain and waited. Sure enough, she entered the house and headed straight for the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of cold water and downed it quickly.

"Ugh...I stink," she muttered to herself, but the figure lurking behind the curtain would have to disagree. To him, she always smelled delightful.

With thoughts of a relaxing, warm shower in mind, Paris began removing her clothing. A sensation ran down Alexander's spine as he stood there, unable to tear his gaze away from her. He felt almost guilty for intruding on her privacy, but his eyes refused to look away. He had not been prepared for the sight that greeted him - and it was truly breathtaking.

She stood before him, her slender figure completely bare and exposed. Her long legs seemed to stretch for miles, leading up to a torso that was like a work of art. Her skin was smooth and flawless, with a creamy tone that seemed to glow in the light like a golden goddess. His eyes were drawn to her perky pink nipples, standing proudly on her chest, and the alluring curve of her buttocks. But it was the sight of her most intimate area that made him ache with desire - the gentle slope of her abdomen leading down to the beautiful shape of her vagina. Every inch of her body was like a masterpiece, leaving him fully aroused and yearning to touch her, breathe her, and feel every sensation she could offer. The image of her beautiful form would be forever ingrained in his mind, fueling his fire and igniting his longing for her. He couldn't help but groan in reaction to this sensual view, his whole body responding with primal desire.

A wave of desire surged through his body, urging him to grab her and give in to the overwhelming attraction. Helplessly, he pressed his hand against the hard bulge in his pants, trying to contain the fiery passion that threatened to consume him. His heart cursed silently as he struggled to regain control of his desires. Every inch of him burned with a longing that could not be denied, pulsing through his veins like molten lava. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself to resist the temptation before him. But the pull was too strong, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he would succumb to her irresistible charm.

At that moment, her phone began to ring, causing Alexander to regain his unwavering composure.

"Hello?" Paris spoke into the receiver.

"Hi, Michael," she continued. "Yes, I made it home safely."

Alexander was irritated by the fact that she was in conversation with another man while she was naked.

"Okay, good night," she said before ending the call. Her mind still lingered on the underlying concern he had shown.

"He's really nice. I like him," Paris muttered to herself before setting the phone down on the bed. She went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Alexander's heart ached as he heard her last words. With a frustrated sigh, he left the room.

~X~