inside i barely breathe, silently i scream Who: Missy and Nikita Where: Nikita's house When: Morning
Everything felt warm for a blinding, dream-state filled moment. Missy's fingers tingled and her toes felt as though they were the only cold part on her. There was a warmth in her nose, her lips, her arms, her chest... it was radiating out and she smiled as she turned her face towards the sun. Suddenly her mind was seized by a terrible fear as the rays fell on her - it's going to burn! - but the warm golden rays fell on her and nothing happened. And why should it? Lazing in the sun never hurt her before and it would not do so now. She could lay there all day, feeling the warmth banish the eternal chill that she could have sworn was lingering in her very bones. Except... except... I smell blood? She lifted her head and looked around, frowning. There was no one else there, but she would have sworn that the smell of blood was heavy in her nose, like it was coming from right next to her. Nothing is there... nothing... no blood... Another scent was wafting and mixing with it, one that made her heart seize up. Nikita? But nobody was there! There could be no scent, not that strong, when no one was there. And as her panic started to grow she could feel the warmth leeching right out of her bones again, the icy chill of nothingness setting back in. The warm, sun-filled yard was vanishing around her and suddenly-
-her eyes snapped open and she was in a dark room. All of her senses screamed that she should be panting, or sweating, from the exhilaration of the dream, but... none of it. And all of a sudden, not slowly at all, it crashed back onto her. She could not feel warmth because she was a vampire, and - oh. Someone was in the bed with her. Instantly her muscles seemed to seize and her fingers went for the knife that was under her pillow. Until she took a breath she did not need at all and the scents from the dream washed right back over her. Blood. Sweat of humans. Blood again and, underneath and around it all, Nikita. That unique scent that had accompanied the vampire years ago and still did to this day. A scent that made a world of feelings whelm up in Missy and - wait, why am I smelling her? They had been in Nikita's room that day, not hers, and those clothes she had been wearing were in the hamper... her fingers loosened their hold on the knife when she realized why she was smelling her. Whose arm it was draped over her waist, holding her right up against her front. And the knots in her stomach that had appeared last night when she realized Nikita was gone without a word, vanished. Scenarios had whirled around in her head of what could happen and some of them were still possible, what with the smell of blood.
Slowly, hardly rustling the sheet beneath her, Missy turned over. And what she saw made the knots that had vanished seem like a pleasant memory. Heat did rush through her now and her eyes, the sleep gone in an instant, narrowed. Nikita was laying in her bed, cuddled up to her like she had the right to be there when she was covered in someone's blood. And it was not blood spatter like may have come from a gun or knife, no Missy was familiar with those things, this was blood from feeding. A live source. Nikita had been gone in a place full of humans, feeding. Heme. She went to Heme. No late-night dealing or tangling with Eloisa - a constant fear lingering in the back of the Australian's mind that she refused to acknowledge - or any of that. In some ways, Missy thought that this was worse. This was putting spikes into her stomach and making her feel as though bile was rising in her throat. Can vampires throw up? And yet... yet despite that anger, there was a pleased underlining to it. Why? Because Nikita was in her bed. Instead of stumbling into her own or stretching on the couch or going to her precious sire... the Russian was there with her, clinging to her like she was something precious.
Still.
Missy worked her arm up and brushed back a few pieces of loose hair, biting her lip when dried blood flaked off from near to her mouth. Blood doll? Victim? I'd rather she just found someone in an alley, I know what blood dolls are like. If she found out that some human had dared to... To what? We don't have any arrangement, I can't... "You're filthy," Missy informed Nikita in a surprisingly level voice as she flicked her ear to wake her, tracing her fingernail along a stray smudge of dried blood after. "And I think I'd like to scream at you if you weren't in my bed. I'm still thinking about it." Was Nikita awake yet? Those turquoise eyes were still closed to her. So she leaned in and brushed her lips against the eyelids, still covered in eyeshadow. "You could've at least washed your face."