GOLDEN BLOOD

Paris opened her eyes to find herself in a bed, undressed. She sat up quickly, gasping. Memories of kissing Alex flooded back; she could still feel his hands groping her breasts and thighs. Her body felt flushed with heat from their intimate encounter.

‘Did we.. go all the way?’

With a quick glance, she lifted the covers and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw that all her undergarments were still in place. Her gaze wandered around the room until it landed on her dress, carefully folded and resting on the bench at the end of the bed.

Paris walked over to the bench and slipped on her dress. The back of the dress had a long zipper that she could only manage to zip up halfway before Alexander came to her assistance from behind.

“You said you were feeling hot, and you were sweating, so I peeled it off of you.”

He paused as he zipped up her, noticing a scar on her back. "This scar...?" he asked, his eyes narrowed in concern.

Wincing, Paris turned to face him. She had forgotten all about the scar. "It's nothing," she replied quietly, avoiding eye contact.

"It's not nothing, Paris. It looks serious," he commented, studying the large mark on her skin.

She met his gaze and sighed. "I know it's ugly, no need to remind me," she snapped irritably.

"Paris, what happened to your wings? Did someone stole them?" He looked at her with concern. She avoided his gaze and remained silent.

"I can't stand the thought of someone hurting you," he said earnestly.

"It's just a scar. Let it be," she snapped, feeling irritated.

But he persisted, gently turning her around. "Every scar has a story behind it - some good, some bad, and some sad. I would like to know yours." He traced his fingers over her scar.

She took a deep breath, unsure if she wanted to share her story. But something about his genuine interest made her want to open up. It felt strange and vulnerable, but he seemed genuinely interested in her and her story.

Alexander halt touching her skin as she began to recount the story. "I fell from the sky and landed in someone's pool. A 25-year-old woman named Pauline rescued me and took care of a three-month-old angel with only one wing - me." She paused for a moment before continuing.

“To protect me, to hide my identity, my mother had to turn her gentle heart into stone and cropped my one and only wing leaving a harsh reminder on my skin. For weeks I’d cried with pain; with me, she did too. I was so tiny then.” A lone tear of pain left Paris’s eye.

“She did it so I could live among humans and be normal. Just like hair, from time to time, my feathers would sprout, and each time it did, my mother had to heartlessly pluck them off.”

Alexander's heart broke hearing her story. He wrapped his arms tightly around Paris from behind. "I can't imagine the pain you've gone through," he said, his words filled with emotion. Vampire or not, he was a caring and genuine person.

"You call me an angel, but I'm nothing but a miserable wingless one," Paris replied tearfully.

“Don't call yourself a pathetic Angel, Paris. You're much stronger than you realize,” he reassured her.

“The memories don't hurt anymore, they just make me sad,” she confessed.

“But it brings back the pain, doesn't it?” he said as he zipped up her dress.

Paris turned to face him and saw the sadness in his eyes. “I have a feeling I was banished from heaven because of my imperfections.”

He chuckled, “You watch too many movies.”

He joked and Paris laughed.

In the heat of the moment, he offered, “You can spend the night here if you want, Paris.”

She gazed intently at the man towering over her. "I'm sorry, but I can't," she said, avoiding eye contact with him. "I have work in the morning."

She could see the disappointment on his face and felt a twinge of guilt. He walked her back until her back was against the wall, a habit she had grown used to.

"I don't like it when you say 'no' or walk away from me," he said with a depressed frown on his face.

"And why is that, Alex?" she asked, meeting his gaze with curiosity. Paris waited patiently for his response, she could see the hesitation in Alexander. But she also saw something in his eyes, she wasn’t sure if it was just her perception.

Ignoring her question, Alexander insisted, "You must be starving."

As they stepped into the dining hall, Paris's eyes scanned the long table that could easily seat twelve people. However, she noticed only one place setting.

"Aren't you going to join me?" she asked Alexander.

"Paris, you fed me an hour ago. I'll keep you company at the table," he replied, pulling out a chair for her.

"Well, make sure you do. I don't want to eat alone," Paris stated firmly.

"Yes, ma'am," Alexander obediently responded.

"Thank you," she said as she took her seat.

The server arrived and placed a bowl of soup in front of Paris before leaving. She felt awkward eating alone while Alexander sat there. She felt weird.

"So, you never eat?" she asked, trying to make small talk as she picked up her round spoon.

“No.”

“Were you poisoned through food? Is that why?”

He nodded in response.

“Do you know who could have done this to you?”

Once again, he shook his head from side to side. Paris could see the fear and distress in his expression.

Switching gears, she asked, “How did you come to find out about me?”

“At the Collymore party. Your blood was found on a steak that had--”

"Wait! Hold on!" Paris interrupted, dropping her spoon in shock.

"How is that even possible? I was so careful," she exclaimed, starting to panic.

"If my manager finds out, I'll be fired. And if word gets out on social media, it could lead to the restaurant to shut down. People will lose their jobs because of me," Paris began to spiral into panic mode.

“Paris, I promised you, that I would keep your secret safe. No words have been or will be spoken about it. And honestly, I am just grateful to have been the one you shared it with.”

“But still, blood on a steak? It's unhygienic and careless of me,” she shuddered at the thought, losing her appetite.

“In the human world, yes. But I believe everything happens for a reason. There is no coincidence in our meeting. We are fated to be together, Paris.”

The way he expressed those last words was so convincing, and Paris couldn't help but feel a glimmer of possibility hidden within them.

Paris shyly took small bites of her food, feeling self-conscious under Alexander's intense gaze. Frustrated, she finally spoke up.

"Could you please say something and not just stare at me?"

"Of course," Alexander replied with a chuckle. "I used to have a particular fondness for pound cake. It was my favorite type of cake. I also loved all kinds of berries and grapes."

"Really," Paris exclaimed, surprised by this new information about him.

"I used to eat whatever smelled good and looked appetizing," Alexander continued. "But after being poisoned, I never went back to eating."

Curiosity got the best of Paris as she asked, "Why pound cake?"

"It's a reminder of my mother. She used to make it all the time," Alexander replied, his words warming Paris's heart at the thought of his missing mother.

“Would you eat it if I... bake one for you? That’s only if you trust me, Alexander.” Paris couldn't resist and asked.

Alexander was taken aback. This girl had given him her blood to save his life, and now she was offering to bake for him? "I think... maybe just a small piece."

It meant the world to Paris that he trusted her, and only her. She happily ate her food.

They continued their conversation for a long hour, with Paris speaking openly and Alexander listening attentively. She shared happy memories and his smile never faltered as she shared stories from her past and present.

At one point, Paris even interrupted herself to apologize for talking too much and asked if he was getting tired of her ramblings.

"I enjoy listening to you," Alexander reassured her. "You are by far the most fascinating person I have ever met, Paris. I could listen to you talk for hours."

‘Oh my, the things this man says.’

Paris couldn't help but think, this night, this conversation should never end.

And sadly the dinner was coming to an end and it was time for Paris to head back home.

"I'd a great time, Alex--"

"Please stay," he said suddenly.

"What?" she asked, caught off guard.

~X~