Dracula: Volume Two, Chapter Two09:14 Sep 13 2019
Times Read: 452
***
Two months later
Vlad saw her, less than hundred yards away, youth radiating from cheap low light stall lamp above her. She held wooden elf in hand, eyes sweeping over it, as if it were piece of gold. Seemingly riveted by various Christmas Market trinkets (man knew different) she placed it in her basket, paying vendor, using silly quips, making him smile, and vendor laugh.
Usually, Vlad would have turned, hidden smile behind black curtain of hair turning to smirk over shoulder. He found most women were simple creatures. Praise them, they gave you their most intimate details, and got on their back, if he made the effort. Men were supposed to be base, purely driven by the brains under their clothes.
Vlad found women far more sexual, seeking pleasure, they tended to be subtler with their intentions, that single difference.
Beauty was, indeed a virtue, but brains, mind of her own, wicked tongue, dark sense of humour, able to rival his deviancy, sensual desires in her eyes?
This woman held more than intrigue, eyes, purest blue pearls sharp, mahogany tresses slipping down her back like waterfall, errant waves falling over woollen scarf.
***
He had seen many women, over the centuries the image of his late wife.
None were her, they wouldn't ever come anywhere near Justina's level of grace, wit, elegant yet decisive ways, mind razor keen, able to keep him, the strategist, master of warfare, alchemist, warrior on his toes.
Whilst he schemed during the day, maps so large, they encompassed entire tables, Justina schemed at night, Vlad's form, his mind her map.
None had managed to tame the Dragon, after her, they dared, dare not try. They ran before they got burned, sheer inferno terrifying, heat immense.
Why the man effortlessly approached this woman was unknown to Vlad, until a little while later.
Her gaze knocked him for six, would have thrown him off-kilter, had he lacked fluidity, svelte musculature to distinct advantage...
***
Vanessa picked up cup of warming mulled wine. Though not her favourite Winter beverage, its hit of heat, kick of spice and festive cheer were lovely, heat cascading down throat, chest, fingers, insides toasty.
"Would you like some?"
Woman glanced at man wryly, grabbing second cup.
"Don't worry, washed my hands. If I get antsy when I have contact with other people, I ought to keep my hygiene up to par. Beyond it, really..."
"No, thank you," Vlad declined, "I don't drink wine."
She snorted reply.
"Neither do I."
"Why do it, then?"
"Social construct?" Vanessa laughed. "Fuck. No. I do because its Christmas, I'm alone and, to be honest, my nips may just fall off, its THAT cold."
Vlad's eyes honed in on her when she swore, woman praying he did not come out with archaic 'women aren't supposed to paint the air blue, they should float about and only speak when spoken to' shit...
***
"Cupcake? Break the icing?"
Vlad shook his head, Vanessa on back burner. She, audaciously faced him, iced chocolate, vanilla sponge treat in hand. Looking him up and down, she, evidently, approved of the view.
"No, you don't look like you eat things like this. In fact, you are rather slim. My arse is wider than your entire frame. Oh no!"
Feigning upset, irises hazed, decadent sweet in hand, Vanessa swirled icing and ate, sugar rush delightful.
"These occasions are rare, for me, ones I am able to attend freely, not for work. I travel frequently, the holidays celebrated in different, vibrant ways, traditions and the like. I appreciate what differentiates cultures. Here, people wish for snow to fall, resenting when it does, for it causes chaos."
Vanessa snorted, picking up accent in man, not unpleasant. She wouldn't make guess, merely keep him talking, hope her inane attempt at 'conversation' proved acceptable, conducive for actual, meaningful conversation.
***
"You are right. Pardon," she held up unoccupied hand, "I forget my manners. Vanessa."
Vlad shook it, challenging her, silently.
'Hold my attention, with something other than hoisting breasts and pouting. I tire of those. Bore me and I will leave. Simple.'
"Vlad."
"Not a name you hear regularly. I will refrain from usual pleasantries, given I have only just made your acquaintance. I tend to avoid events like this. Christmas markets are charming, though they attract crowds, which, in turn bring out the 'pushers,' people who I, am seemingly invisible too. I can't stand impatience. I get it. Life is hectic, busy, we all have our struggles, time constraints. That doesn't give someone right to be a bastard, bulldoze their way around. Call me pedantic, cynical, but I'd rather be alone than forced into cramped situations, nose in someone else's armpit..."
"Romanian, and manners died horrific, slow death decades ago, my dear."
"Its Vanessa." She corrected, unspoken issue for challenge accepted. "What would you like to know, seeing as I am, clearly 'fascinating?'"
He shook her hand firmly, tad too much, woman's pupils widened, in slight alarm.
"Dominant. Bold," she smirked, questioning why, milliseconds later, "considering we've just met."
"I was taught frankness is best policy. I won't claim to be kind, I take issue with false pleasantries."
"Do you think me false?"
"You show your face, use of language colourful, let others view personality. I respect those who go against the grain. Tell me of your story."
Vanessa refilled her cup, inhaling wafting nutmeg, contended hum leaving mouth...
***
"I work in confectionery, baking cakes for events, sweet tooth applicable. Whitening toothpaste and mouthwash hides multitude of sins...You mentioned travel? Sounds wonderful. Do you do that for work?"
Vlad nodded.
"Payed to visit stunning cities, vast countries, eat delicious food, delightful, I assume..."
"Assume? Speak directly, freely."
Vanessa tilted head curiously, eyes open, questions brightening blue.
"Why do I feel that, if I were to speak freely, as you request, you'd dislike me? I can tell you wished to pull me up on my use, butchering of the English language. You didn't because you respect me."
Statement weighty, again, man agreed, corner of mouth quirking upwards, moustache twitching.
"As I stated earlier. I cannot promise kindness, make such affiance, though I can respect, loyalty."
"Oh...?"
***
Glancing around, cake forgotten, vivid orbs saw same but hazy shade looking at her. The rest of the world did not factor in.
Not the dancers, in the tightest leotards she had seen, sinew, nipples, bulges and mounds clear view.
Nor the moon, full, cloud quartz, clarity gorgeous, occasionally blotted with ink spots, paper splashed.
She hadn't had the (pleasure?) of being gazed upon prior.
Not as something to play with, dangle from strings, screw until wires snapped, then dropped to the ground, left in a heap.
Vlad actually seemed interested in her, as a person.
Not holes, nothing external.
Merely, her mind, its machinations.
***
"I value loyalty, it is important. However, I have been told that before, and it turned out to be a lie. Whilst I, certainly would not presume you a liar, I am sceptical, for reasons, personal to myself."
"A man betrayed you, took your trust, burying it deep, beneath layers of deception. He matters little, your outlook is clear, it shines through. The past is just that."
"And I thought myself elusive..."
Stuffing hand in her purse (the other shoving remaining cake in her mouth,) Vanessa grabbed pen, jotting down her number on pastel green notelet.
She kept it in the bag, wondering what the in actual, ever, living Hell was she doing. Had increasing waves of sugar rush drowned rationale? High calorie content swept logic aside?
Woman poured over 'facts,' what she'd gleaned...
***
Vlad screamed 'arrogant,' hollered it from the rooftops, boot prints in snow purposeful, gait staunch, back ramrod straight.
He was sure of himself, sure of surrounds, looked to have vast amounts of knowledge.
Something untamed lay in demeanour, carefully honed, shown only in cracks of whitened knuckles, minuscule movements of head, like owl, wondering, inquiring.
He wouldn't be deemed 'classically attractive,' by today's standards, but today's standards were utterly ridiculous, heights unreachable, pointless.
No. His looks were aristocratic. Slim frame, wiry musculature, svelte strength, though the way he held himself spoke of readiness, calm, level-headed.
Aquiline nose, acute angled cheekbones, jaw you could slice fingertip open whilst musing, mood quizzical.
Almost eagle like, vicious in certain light, eyes burning Aquamarine, branding, searing its way into woman's mind.
And, damned if Vanessa wasn't intrigued...
***
As surreptitiously as possible (sneakiness far from her forte,) Vanessa stuck the note on the elf, putting it beside Vlad.
Turning, she tried meeting his eyes, damning her cheeks flaring pink. Hoping low light masked that, she nodded, walking around him, exquisite aftershave filling nostrils as she went on her way...
***
'Don't you know it is recommended not to give your number out to strangers?'
Vanessa pulled phone from pocket, snorting.
"Are we strangers? Surely not. We exchanged names, and numbers, given you chose to look at the note and keep it, long enough to 'text' me."
'You left, conversation wide open. I saw none beside you, walking with you. Again, you chance walking home, alone.'
Vlad's reply confused, for a time, her heart increasing beats per minute.
"And you chose to continue it. Sorry. I'm...out of practise, speaking to people, in general. I work behind the scenes, answering the phone occasionally, but that's it. Should I be concerned? I can handle myself. Are you concerned for my safety?"
Vlad, entering lobby of his hotel, for the duration of his stay frowned, attracting receptionist's gaze.
'Not for yours, per say. For women, in general. I, wouldn't dare question strength of character, or physicality. However, there are those, out there that mean harm, they care little for opportunity, taking any and all. I merely request you take care.'
"Thank you," Vanessa smiled, "I will. Do not fear. I won't accuse you of 'mansplaining,' 'sexism,' god, I hate those words. Highly overused. You speak truth, and speak it quite wonderfully, might I add? Ballsy, I know..."
Before he could reply, woman quickly typed, testing spelling and punctuation to their, her limits...
"Take care, also. A gust of wind could blow you asunder."
Vlad allowed himself small laugh, sound low register. Anyone nearby would have to crane neck to hear it.
'Are you implying I am frail? Vanessa, draga mea, ma amuzi.'
Vanessa arrived home, wanting to look up whatever it was Vlad had just said. Her phone's battery said otherwise however, she just about plugged in its charger before it died on her...
***
Kicking off her boots, gloves, scarf and coat draped over couch, Vanessa sprawled on bed, feet up behind her.
"I don't have a clue what you said. Educated guess? Something 'me,' and 'amuse?' You're laughing at me right now, aren't you?"
'I am. I shall leave you with that. Sleep well, and see to it I do not make an appearance in nightmares.'
He couldn't resist that, needing some sort of merriment, passing time, whilst blood bag heated in microwave. He starved, the entire time he and Vanessa spoke. How she'd hadn't heard stomach voice its anger, seen him wobble slightly, sight blurry.
He would have looked tipsy, had he not left, soon after her.
***
"With that face? Chiselled by Gods, I tell you, carved by deities! Hah! I must be delirious. Since I can count, on one hand the amount of drinks I have in a year, I put it down to, simply being tired. Shouldn't it be dreams? I would reply in Romanian, but fear I'd do it injustice, as translation apps reputations isn't great. Night, Vlad."
***
Getting ready for bed, Vanessa found Winter's chill didn't so much bother now, company cheering, banishing chilly gloom...
COMMENTS
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Chupacabra
20:33 Sep 17 2019
👍🏻🍷
Neinmortlan
08:03 Sep 21 2019
woah..
this is pretty good