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Love Is The Darkest Art 20

Love Is The Darkest Art

A Dramione Fanfic Serial

Scene 29

For Draco and Hermione, their escape was part quick thinking, part luck. A few inches to the left and the charm from Draco’s wand would have been ineffective. The solid construction of the sewage tunnel would have stopped the hastily conjured bolt.

The two landed on their feet with a jolt. If they hadn’t been holding on to each other they might have collapsed to the floor. But as it was, they both landed in a half squat that sent shudders up their legs. Draco clutched Hermione and didn’t let her fall.

“Draco,” she began, nearly out of breath. “I’m….”

“Later,” he interrupted her grimly. He grabbed her hand and started leading her down the dank, smelly tunnel. At first, she heistated. She didn’t want to venture away from the light of their escape into the unknown darkness. Who knew what kind of creatures lurked in the shadows?

“Come on,” Malfoy urged. “They’ve called more Death Eaters. They will be here any min…”

A muffled pop came from the corridor ahead and they froze. Something or someone had just apparated in front of them. Both Draco and Hermione took a defensive stance with their wands.

Out of the shadows came a figure. Tall and cloaked in black. It’s face hidden beneath a hood and cowl, it almost hissed at the sight of them. Hermione’s first thought was Voldemort. Draco’s was his father. Neither of them were right.

“Fools,” the figure mumbled. “You can’t fight a death eater.”

“Watch me,” replied Draco bravely with a slight tremble to his voice.

The figure laughed in a low sinister tone. “It is beyond me why you are protecting a mudblood, but we all have our faults.”
There was something familiar about the voice, but it was being purposedly disguised. “Against my better judgement, I’m here to help you.”

“Oh yeah? What you going to do, disapparate us out of here?”

“I can’t take us all,” it replied. “One of you must stay.”

“Well fat chance of that. I’m not leaving Hermione.”

“You have a few seconds to stick by that. You both can be captured and possibly tortured by the other Death Eaters, or Draco, you can give me…the girl.” This last part he uttered with distaste in his mouth, as if Hermione was the last person he’d want to rescue.

“What do they want?” Granger blurted.

“Why Potter, of course,” came the man’s reply.

“Ha!” Draco explained. “I can’t stand him either. So why would…”

“They don’t want you, idiot.”

A series of thuds came from behind them. Three Death Eaters had just plopped down through the hole in the street. Draco spun, wand at the ready, and it was all the distraction their would-be rescuer needed. He reached out with a bony, gnarled hand and grabbed Hermione by the wrist. Before she could even scream, the figure disapparated, dragging Hermione with him.

Draco realized too late what happened. The Death Eater had teleported, vanished and reassembled somewhere else. And Hermione was his captive. Confronting the other Eaters who had crashed the party, Draco was struck with the notion they’d been working together all along to kidnap his girl. There were no good guys here. Not even him.

“Expelliarmus!” he shouted, thrusting his wand towards the Death Eaters. They easily deflected his charm and turned it back on him. His wand dropped from his hand as if someone had bent his fingers back to the point of breaking. He screamed and clutched his hand as the three figures bore down on him. “No,” he began to plead. “My father is…”

A muffled pop sounded from beside him. The hooded figure who’d taken Hermione was back. “Stop!” he commanded. He held his wand in a fighting stance, and the even though they unnumbered him three to one, there was something about his posture, his very height, that warned the death eaters a fight would be devastating to their ranks. “The boy is mine,” he further asserted. “He’s been promised to me…to deal with.”

There was some hesitation. One of the death eaters seemed unsure and made a lunge forward, waving his wand. The hooded figure uttered a few words low in his throat and a bolt of grey light erupted from the tip of his wand. It struck the death eater’s arm, engulfing his hand and wand momentarily before turning to dust and dissipating into the air. The death eater cried out in alarm and stopped his charge. Looking at his arm, he saw it had turned to stone. His hand began to crack and his eyes grew wide in terror. The wand broke and crumbled, its pieces tumbling to the floor of the tunnel. “No,” he moaned, watching his fingers start to do the same thing. He turned to his companions, his eyes imploring them to help him, but they’d never seen a charm attack like that. So they retreated and ran, leaving their companion to crumble alone.

Draco, shocked by the sight, nearly ran himself, but the hooded figure clutched his hand on his forearm. The last thing Draco noted before they both disapparated was that of the thin hand, it’s fingernails painted black, clutching his arm so tight it drew blood. There was something about that hand…

Scene 30:

Hermione Granger stood in the cold alone. The wind blew through the tall trees overhead, bare branches creaking so much she’d thought the limbs would break and come crashing down on her head. She stood in someone’s driveway. She didn’t know who’s. She didn’t even know where she was at. She’d been left here by the hooded mystery man who had disaparated her away from Malfoy and the attacking Death Eaters. When they had appeared in the drive, she’d looked up the lane, trying to determine who’s house they’d arrived at. “Don’t worry,” he said. “No one is home.” Then he vanished in the very same way they had appeared, leaving her alone, but apparently rescued from danger. For the time being anyway.

A dog howled in the distance and it sounded angry and agitated. The sound made her wary and she held her wand in front of her in case the animal rushed from the surrounding woods. A little voice inside warned her that maybe it wasn’t a dog she was hearing, but a wolf. Wolves attack from behind, the inner voice added, and she turned quickly, jabbing her wand in the air. But there was nothing there. No wolves. No dogs. Just the house at the end of the driveway.

The man must have intended she take refuge here, but was she ready to trust him? Just because he rescued her from the other dearh eaters, it was apparent he’d been one himself. When they’d aparated here she’d caught a glimpse of the mark on his forearm, and there was something dark about his very presence as if his very being was permeated by shadows. And he had taken her away from Draco. Seperated them. Left her alone at a dark mansion that looked anything but accomodating.

There was a popping sound from behind her and she jumped. The hooded man was back. And with him was Draco. She nearly dropped her wand as she ran into his arms. Draco clutched her just as tightly as she clung to him, and his kiss on her cheek seemed to make her forget there was a death eater in her midst. It wasnt until the figure spoke that she came out of her dreamy sense.

“The enemy is everywhere,” he spake darkly. “There won’t be many safe places. Go home Malfoy.”

Draco seemed to realize where he was at now. He looked around him and grinned. “Well, Hermione looks like you get to spend the weekend at my house anyway.”

“Your house? This is…”

“Malfoy Mansion,” he confirmed. “Why did you bring us here?” he asked, turning to the one who’d rescued them, but he was gone. He had vanished just as quickly as he’d arrived.

“Who was that?”

Draco looked at Hermione. “I’m not sure. Must be a friend of Father’s to know who I am and where I live. And he knew you too.”
He flashed her a devilish smirk. “But not the way I do…Hermione, I’m…”

“No,” she interrupted. “I’m sorry, Draco. I am so sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t want you to go too far in trying to convince others that we weren’t together. When I saw you heading after Neville, I panicked and…”

“Hermione Granger,” Draco said, cutting her off. “Don’t you ever shut up?”

She looked at him in shock and surprise. Did he just…

His lips were on hers before she could even finish the thought.

Love Is The Darkest Art 19

Love Is The Darkest Art

A Dramione fanfic serial

Scene 28

The doppelganger Draco sneered. “Unlike this little morsel, I am not afraid of you. I fear no one. Certainly not you, pathetic boy.” He glanced at Hermione. “Ah, to have your hands on such beauty and never doing a thing about it…”

“Let her go. This is your last warning.” To assert his meaning, Draco jabbed his double’s cheek slightly with his wand. “You don’t want to push me.”

“Push you? Ha! I’ll do more than that.” His eyes locked on Hermione who was still being held to the wall by his strength. “Ditch this clown, girl. I’ll show you a real man.”

The silencio curse was starting to wear off. Hermione moved her lips, her jaw trying to work, but still she could produce no sound. This made the villian laugh and she looked away from him. He looked too much like her Draco. Exactly like him to be sure.

As if knowing what she was thinking, Draco leaned toward her captor, his mouth at the doppleganger’s ear right next his wand. He whispered something she could not hear. It almost sounded like another language, and the resolute tone caused her to open her eyes.

The words were a charm and Hermione could see the effects working across the evil Draco’s face. His cheekbones seemed to shift, his chin dropping lower. His eyes, no longer silver grey slits, became blue tinged, bulbous orbs set in a head who’s very shape was changing. The change didn’t seem painful, for the face still leered at her, the lips pulling back and then resetting themselves against a set of teeth much larger than Draco’s. What had been the beautiful visage of Malfoy now revealed a scarred face she recognized. It was the man who had been in The Hog’s Head earlier, sitting across from the barman and laughing at an apparently baudy joke. Even then she’d found his gaze intrusive. Now it was downright invading.

The man, for the real version of him was clearly an adult, shifted on his feet so fast it caught both her and Draco off guard. In a series of twists, he was out from under Draco’s wand and drawing a deadly gnarled wand of his own. “Expelliarmus!” he shouted, pointing it directly at Malfoy.

Draco’s wand was pulled from his hand and it skidded across the cobblestones. The scarred man turned to Hermione who was reaching for her own wand. He uttered a command and jabbed his weapon in her direction. Before she could react, her feet were skidding across the alley carrying her towards him. Like a magnet pulling steel towards it, she was drawn to him and he wrapped an arm around her struggling form.
“No darling,” he said. “You’re coming with me. Someone wants to meet you…” He glared at Draco, who stood helpless with the villain’s wand pointing at him. “…after I’m done with you, of course,” he taunted.

Wrapping Hermione up in his cloak so hard she dropped her wand, he spun around and began to carry her off down the darkening alley. Draco cursed and reached down, picking up a loose cobblestone. He heaved the brick piece. It sailed through the air like a runaway snitch on a quidditch pitch, and found its target.

The scarred man grunted when the brick hit him in the back of his head. He released Hermione and spun angrily towards Draco. But the Slytherin was on him before he could raise his wand. Crack! A right hook across the bridge of his nose made it snap with a spray of blood, but he didnt go down. Even when Draco attempted to tackle him, it didn’t knock him off his feet. It however did knock him into the wall, where Draco released him and landed three hard blows to his Solar Plexus.

Hermione scrambled away from them both, her hands reaching on the alley floor for her wand. To her surprise, and despite the scarred man’s bulkier form, Draco was landing blow after blow to the man’s face, rocking the villain’s head back and forth. It was almost scary, the fury that exuded from Malfoy’s clenched fists. “I told you… to get… your hands… off her,” she heard him growl between blows.

She finally grasped her wand, raised it and took aim. Somebody grabbed it out of her hands and she screamed. A cloaked and hooded figure stood towering over her. He stood over six feet and out from under his dark cloak she saw the tattoo on his forearm. A skull and snake. The Dark Mark of a Death Eater.


Malfoy turned to her screams and lost his furious advantage. The scarred man clocked Draco across the side of his head. The man wore ornate rings which cut into Draco’s skull and made his head swim with blackness. Before he hit the ground, he saw a second hooded figure come out of the shadows and grab Hermione, lifting her off the ground in its inescapable grip.

Scarface kicked Draco in the ribs, leaning over him and pointing his wand into his face. Looking up, Draco saw the Death Eater mark on his arm. “She’s mine now,” the man said. “Don’t bother trying to follow us.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Draco promised.

The Death Eater threw back his head and laughed. “On the contrary, boy,” he snarled. “I’m going to kill you.” He glanced over to Hermione, still struggling to escape the other Eater that held her. “Want to know what I’m going to do to her?…”

Draco whispered something so low it was unintelligible.

Instinctively, the man leaned down. “What’s that?”

Draco replied in a sinister hiss, “Nothing.” Then he raised his head and bit the man’s ear off. Blood splayed across the man’s cheek and he howled, dropping his wand.

Hermione screamed again. The two Death Eaters were on the run, dragging her down the alley.

Pushing the injured man away, Draco bounded to his feet, recovered his own wand and was in pursuit. He didnt even look back to see if Scarface was going to hurl a curse his way. He had to get his girl from those goons.

They were ahead of him, getting ready to pass through a black door of an unmarked building. He hurled a bolt from his wand and it went by them, striking the stones at their feet. A shower of blinding sparks shot up and it made them stop. They spun around, with Hermione in front of them like a shield.

“This is for the other day,” Draco shouted, and hurled another bolt. Right at Hermione. It struck her in the stomach knocking the wind out of her and effectively shoving her into the death eater that held her. They both fell, she on top of him, landing on the rough stones of the alleyway.

Draco was already hurling a charm at the second death eater, who couldn’t believe a kid was attacking him. What kind of boy attacks one of Voldemort’s own. He soon found out when the charm struck, a curse that spun him around several times and smashed his face into the wall. It was surprising move, as it was one known only to Death Eaters. How the hell does a kid know that one, the figure thought before losing consciousness.

Hermione found herself being hauled to her feet. Still coughing from the bolt blow, her eyes were watering up, but she could still Draco’s determined face as he thrust her behind him and faced the Death Eater he’d liberated her from. The figure snarled underneath its hood and laughed.

“Enjoy your freedom for a few more seconds,” he hissed.

Draco looked up to the sky with fear and then back at the death eater. “Too bad we won’t be here to witness it.”

He spun to shield Hermione in his own cloak and aimed his wand at their own feet. There were sparks against the pavement, a blinding light flashed, causing the death eater to shield his eyes. The alley collapsed beneath Draco and Hermione, dropping them into a newly formed hole in the street, down into the depths of the village sewers.

Love Is The Darkest Art 8

Love Is The Darkest Art

A Dramione fanfic serial

Scene 12:

The afternoon skies were producing dark clouds. Rain was building up but had yet to let loose its torrent. Draco carried Hermione across the field next to Hagrid’s hut and into the woods. He had to get her to someplace secluded where she could breathe again and they could relax. He hoped the trees and their thick leaves would keep the coming storm off of them. The wind was picking up way too fast and he felt the first few sprinkles of rain.

Cradling her with one arm, he reached out with his other. “Accio parasol,” he commanded and an umbrella appeared in his hand. He hoped his mother Narcissa didn’t mind, as it was hers, but it was the only one he could conjure in his mind at the moment. He flicked the umbrella open, but before he could get it over their heads, the wind caught it and carried it off into the sky. After a moment, watching the umbrella change direction in the air he realized his mother had enchanted it to return to her in the event it was lost.

Draco readjusted carrying Hermione in his arms and she looked up at him. Her eyes were rimmed red from her tears and there was a look of fear in her pupils. It wasn’t a fear of him, but of losing him. She could have swore that before he had picked her up he had said he must let her go. She opened her mouth to say something about it, but then the skies opened sending the storm down upon them with fury.

He set her down. “Come on, run,” he said and he led her deeper into the dark wood. He took her hand and wrapped his fingers around hers as they sought some form of shelter under the canopy of trees. Unfortunately, they were already drenched, hair wet and matted against their faces, clothes soaked through and shoes filled up with rain as if they were teacups.

“Accio tent!” Hermione shouted with a wave of her wand, and a small tent appeared. It was one she had seen in the window of a shop in Diagon Alley. Normally she would have considered this an act of theft, and therefore wrong, but perhaps her association with Malfoy was wearing off on her too. It’s only borrowing, she told herself, as Draco used his own wand to draw the tree branches closer to conceal it.

They scrambled inside and landed on the mossy ground, as the tent had no floor, just sides and its sharply angled roof.

“Where in the world did that come from?” Draco exclaimed, crawling towards the tent’s open flap to get a better view of the storm.

“I dont know,” Hermione sighed. “But I’m drenched.”

He turned to look at her. “So am I, but you have a way of looking beautiful in any sort of weather.”

She blushed. ‘Draco, I….”

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. She froze. “This may be uncomfortable, but necessary,” he said. Before she could pull out her own wand to defend herself he uttered a few words low in his voice and a rush of hot air hit her. It wasn’t enough to knock her back, but the heat that emanated in a stream from the tip of his wand was still intrusive. Waving it just inches away from her, he traced the lines of her body as if he were a sculptor trying to capture every curve to memory. And though it was mildly erotic, the slow meticulous motion of his hand, he never touched her, but instead let the warmth of the charm dry her wet clothes while she wore them.

Down her body he allowed his wand to work, moving over her stomach, down her legs, and ending at her shoes.

“Turn,” he commanded,and as she did he dried her back and hood, moving up to her head to dry her hair just as easily as if he were Hogwarts personal hairdresser.

“Close your eyes” he said, and waved the wand over her face, gently drying cheeks, chin, eyebrows, and nose. After he moved it over her lips, he placed his own mouth softly against hers, letting it linger for a few moments. “Don’t want your lips getting too dry,” he explained with a sly smile.

Hermione finally relaxed and looked at his wand as he moved it across his own body in the same sort of fashion. “I thought you were going to hurt me,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“I thought maybe Umbridge…”

“Don’t worry about her. We are still a secret for now.”

“Just what is our secret, Draco? I don’t understand what is happening to us…I don’t think anyone could understand this…”

He smiled. “No one has to. Not even us. Sometimes you just want what you want. And you hope the rest just falls into place.”

“But I’m so confused. I don’t know what I want.”

He reached out his hand and touched her cheek. “It’s okay. We’re not supposed to know. All I know in all this is I can’t stay away from you. I can’t bear the thought of not getting lost in your eyes anymore.”

“Draco, Umbridge saw us. Neville almost saw us. If we continue this …”

“If? There is no if for me, Hermione. There is only you, me, and to hell with anyone else.”

She shook her head. “But why? For years you have hated me.”

“Is that what you think? I never hated you, Granger. Jealous, envious maybe. Hell I was a kid when we met. I didn’t know how to express the fact I liked you. All I knew how to do was pick on you. But now I know how to express my strange, new emotions. Maybe I’m growing up, or just growing into you. Either way, I never hated you. In fact, quite the opposite. Hermione, I…”

She put her open hand over his mouth. “Don’t Draco, dont you say it. If you say it, I will ..”
She let her unfinished sentence hang in the air, as Draco gently removed her hand from his mouth.

“Okay, I won’t say it. But that doesn’t mean I won’t feel it.”

Hermione blinked back the tears that were starting to form around her eyes again. “We shouldn’t feel this way. We shouldn’t be here…not together like…”

He kissed her. Perhaps it was his way of telling her to stop rambling and shut up. Or maybe it was because he did feel something. That all those years he had picked on her was like a boy on a playground pulling the little girl’s pigtails because he liked her. No matter the reason, his lips were warm against hers, causing Hermione to forget her confusions and uncertainties.

She allowed herself to sink into his arms and he pulled her close. His mouth opened against hers and she responded with the very longings she would deny, wrapping herself around him and letting their kiss carry them far from the storm, the cold, the very impossibility of this moment.

They remained like that for awhile, so close if one had seen them they would have thought them one entity, instead of two. Lips melted hot against the other, tongues twisted pleasantly, exchanging breath for breath. Eyes opened and closed with their competing heartbeats. When both managed to open at once, they caught the adoring gaze of the other and renewed their amorous fervor. The real world, such as it was, swam around their heads, while within their intimate kisses all that existed was this fantasy, breathing life into them like never before.

Eventually however, it was breath they needed and their lips parted so that he could whisper her name, “Hermione Jean…”

She looked at him surprised. “You know my middle name?”

He smiled. “Always.” Though it had never been revealed in his presence, nor had anyone spoke it before like that, it was apparent he’d paid more interest in her than she ever imagined.

“Say it again.”

“Hermione Jean.”

“To hell with breathing,” she said and kissed him again. He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, so that she were slightly above him, kissing down to him and his upturned face. She put both palms against his cheeks, cradling his face in her hands, as his own held her aloft from her bottom. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

A crack of thunder erupted in the distance, but it didn’t startle or concern them. The resounding echo of the rain against the tent sounded out the time that escaped them. And yet, if they’d been listening to anything other than their own sighs and whispers, they would have heard voices calling from somewhere out in the wood, “Hermione, Hermione!”

Vampire Boys Of Summer (revamped) Ep. 37

37: Road Trip

When I awoke on Saturday morning, I was alone. Haru was not there. I knew he had been when I drifted off to sleep, and I could only assume he watched me for a while as I slept. I guess he had gotten tired and went on home. I stretched and woke up my cellphone. No messages, no calls. Typical life for me. I often wondered what it would be like to be real popular, but in a way I was glad I wasn’t. At least this way there wasn’t someone always demanding my attention. I could take my time getting dressed , go downstairs and fix a light breakfast, all without someone calling to say, “Let’s hang.”

I thought I had heard mom in the kitchen, but when I got down there she was gone. I assumed she was avoiding me, because she didn’t want to feel guilty. The truth was, she should feel guilty, and not over me either. She should feel guilty for dad, for not wanting to visit him when she has the chance. Before I had much time to dwell on it, or even wonder where mom was, Haru arrived. He let himself in the back door, but I didn’t mind. He could make himself at home here in any shape or form, as far I was concerned.

“Hey gorgeous,” he said, wrapping me in his arms for a hug. I smiled. This was nice. Not just the embrace, but being called a cute name. No one ever used a pet name for me before. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah. How long did you stay?”

“I was here most of the night. I used your shower again, hope you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.”

The hug ended and he kissed me lightly on the cheek. I could feel his hair graze my face and it reminded me to ask him a question that had been at the front of my mind ever since we’d made out the other night.

“So, what’s the deal with your hair?” I asked.


“Your hair. When we first met it was pale blond, almost white. But the other night when we were kissing in your back yard it changed to my hair color.”

“You noticed that, huh?”

“Yeah. So what’s that about?”

“You don’t like it?”

“Oh, no, I like it. It’s just normally people don’t change their hair color without dye or a trip to the salon.”

He laughed. “Well, I couldn’t wait for all that. I needed to be like you.”

“You changed hair color because of me?”

“I wanted to be like…how do you say it? One and the same?”

I blushed. “You don’t have to be like me, Haru. I like you the way you are. You don’t have to change.”

“I know. But it was time. And speaking of which, isn’t it time for a road trip?”

I smiled. “Yes it is. Thanks for offering to take me, Haru. That means a lot.”

He leaned close. “I’m glad to do it.” He kissed my cheek. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

“No waiting. Let’s go,“ I said and followed him out the door. I didn’t yell for Mom to say goodbye or anything. Let her live with her own guilty ass.

I didn’t know what Haru would be driving, but the Hyundai was a little unexpected. After all, in all the vampire movies, videos, and books I had read, the vamps always had hot cars. Something flashy, sleek, fast, like one of those cars out of The Fast & the Furious. Not a gray tone Hyundai four door with dings and dents in the side. Seeing the slight damage, I began to wonder if it was safe to be going riding with him. But the fact he held the door open for me, and even strapped my seat belt, made all that worry pointless. He had to be the only guy I knew who could make putting your seat belt on feel sensuous. With his gentle hands pulling the belt and strapping it across my chest, his fingers making sure there were no twists in the fabric, even down to the slow click as he slid the buckle into place, I almost felt this was something like being undressed with the eyes. It was uncomfortable, but in a very nice and blushing kind of way.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, he took the same care in fastening himself in and it kind of disappointed me. He started the car and looked over at me. “I hope you know the way,“ he said.

I pulled out my cellphone. “GPS,“ I replied with a grin, and pulled up the bookmarked destination. “Just tell me when you are ready to start.”

He put his hand on my leg. “Ready,“ he said in a low voice. I felt the nerve in my leg jump, as if it were responding to his touch. Leaning over, he kissed a bare spot on my neck. “Set.” I felt the butterflies returning. His lips grazed my ear lobe and I closed my eyes. “Go,“ he whispered.

I pressed the start button on the GPS and heard it direct us to go down the street. I leaned forward in my seat as his mouth found the back of my neck, and it sent chills all over me. His lips did not leave my skin, but I felt the car moving, slowly rolling out the driveway and onto the pavement. The car did a slight lurch as we went down the road, and I wondered how he could drive with his playful mouth sucking at the nape of my neck. I made a low noise in my throat and the GPS said to turn right, so I did, my lips so desperate for Haru that I turned in my seat and nearly forced his mouth on mine. I braced myself for the crash, as I was sure we were going to hit something, but we never did. We rolled down the road, and then realizing he hadn’t followed the GPS’ directions, he pulled his face away and checked out the street before making the next right to get back on track. We both settled in our seats, feeling a little lighter, and smiling somewhat bigger than when we’d first got in the car.

“How far away is it?” he asked.

“Um, we should be there in about an hour. Maybe ninety minutes.”

“Cool. You want some tunes?”

“Yeah, that would be awesome. What you got?”

“CD’s are in the visor. Pick something out.”

I pulled the visor down and saw there were about a dozen CD’s in a binder strapped to it. I didn’t spend too much time looking through them, because Angela once told me guys want you to be more interested in them than their music collection. So I just grabbed one and slid it out of the binder. Before I put it in the deck, I glanced to see what it was. Across the surface of it were emblazoned the words “Keeper of the Flame.”Just under it, in bolder letters, was what I assumed was the name of the band, “The Hiatus.” I had never heard of them to be honest, but I slid it in the deck anyway. I really wanted to know all I could about Haru. Not just the romantic side of him, but all his likes and dislikes, his preferences in music, food, movies, books, everything. I never thought I’d meet someone I wanted to just drown myself in; to know all there was to know about them until they felt like my second skin. But here I was, with Haru driving down the road, listening to The Hiatus and trying to figure out where to catalogue this memory.

The CD itself sounded pretty good, and I cranked it up. It reminded me of early emo, but with a J-rock edge. “That one is called Thirst, “ Haru explained. “But my absolute favorite is the next track.”

I didn’t hesitate, but pressed the skip button on the deck so his song would come on. He started nodding his head, and rocking back and forth to the music. “This one is called Something Ever After,” he said.

I smiled. Just the title alone revealed Haru’s hopes and dreams to me. He was sensual, charismatic, an insatiable romantic who wanted a love just as forever as his vampirism. Or at least that’s what I hoped.

Continue to Ep. 38

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“Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D Aronson. All Rights Reserved.