Ballroom: Mitch and Moment
Mitch's week with her new slave was probably a lot more tiring on her than the slave, whom she learned quickly was a fairy and preferred to go by Moment or Wolf. During their first week together, Mitch allowed Moment to return to her home? Realm? Fairyland? Mitch didn't know what to call it, but it was a place Moment could recover for a bit. Mitch let her go, but was quickly worried she had just let her first slave take advantage of her. She chewed on her nails until Moment came back and then she was relieved.
Then came the temptation. Mitch was only going to do blood bags from not until the rest of eternity. Alive donor or no, Mitch wasn't going to try feeding again any time soon. But it seemed her slave had other plans in mind. Mitch was proud of herself that she had controlled her thirst, although the fair smelled so good to her, but then Moment actually cut herself, and Mitch lost it. She fed on her hungrily, but in a odd twist of things, Moment had managed to get Mitch to stop before going too far, and Mitch found herself sated enough to be able to walk away after the feeding. That happened two more times between last week and this, and each time, Mitch wasn't as bad as she thought she'd be, and she was getting better.
So while Mitch had to teach Moment about computers and making appointments, and searching for possible new places for a salon, it turned out Moment was teaching Mitch how to control herself when feeding. It was a nice balance, Mitch felt.
Tonight Mitch decided to take a chance on going out with her slave, and seeing how they were outside of her two bedroom apartment slash salon. Mitch was dressed as her favorite pharaoh, Hatshepsut, a female pharaoh. Her white dress hugged her curves, and while going bare shouldered and with sandals may not have been the best given that the temperature outside was getting cold with each month, Mitch was a vampire, and barely even noticed a thing.
She walked in with Moment on her arm, and a smile on her red lips. The make up was exactly the way the Egyptians would have worn it, so no mascara, just liner and some shadow, a bit of rouge and then lips for days. She headed straight for the ballroom, glancing around at the place and trying not to name off in her head the places she'd been to in the past that were more elegant, spacious, and expensive. Perks of being the daughter of two powerful politicians: getting to go to nearly every party held by "friends" of her parents'.
"But this place is something. They did a pretty job with it, don't you think?" Mitch asked Moment, trying to keep herself from ogling her slave too much that night.