Give me your {h e a r t}

[Edgar Cromwell]

Edgar had walked into the bar with only one thing on his mind: blood. He had not yet fed for the night and under regular lighting, his pale and cold skin would look odd. But the bar's lightly made everyone look luminescent. This is why he chose the clubs and bars. It was easier to blend in with humans while not having food yet.

Sitting at the bar, he had ordered a beer but not sipped from it. It was just for looks. He couldn't drink the beer, especially not without feeding first. His body wasn't working, there was no blood pumping through his one-alive vessels. Even if there was blood coursing through his body, the alcohol would do practically nothing for him. It was just a drink to swallow. But then again, a lot of people do things for appearance sakes.

Edgar had dressed to impress anyone's eyes tonight. The blood-red silk shirt he wore was button up to mid chest, exposing a triangle of pale white skin and the hollow of his throat. The shirt was tucked into black pants that looked poured on like a second skin. There wasn't much left to the imagination. The outfit ended in black dress shoes that shined with a dull gleam. Even guys had to look again.

He smiled to himself, feeling more than one person's eyes on him. However, he had not yet found the person he would prey on for the night.

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[Aethel Marie Craven]

Chicago was alive at night. That pleased Aethel. Aethel who never sleeps. It was difficult for her to sleep as her mind was always thinking about something like a factory machinery cursed to keep on rolling no matter what the result would be. Sometimes she would think about her studies, her work or just life in general. But she believed that all work and no play would make Jack a dull boy so tonight Aethel Craven decided to play. She wouldn't come out with her friends of course, they were all dull and would be playing chess until the end of the night. So tonight, she was going solo. And besides, it would be more of an adventure if she were to go alone. How she loved adventures.

Her long dark hair and her fringe cut short well left in their natural state, her skin was already porcelain white and flawless she needn't do anything to it but she loved her Dietrich red lipsticks. She wore it on her shapely lips for the night. She wasn't on the prowl for a boy, she was out to have fun, Aethel loved her cocktails and had an amazingly high tolerance for someone her size. After a last look in the mirror and the same thought going through her head every time she looked that way, she whistled for a taxi. Oh and the thought was, 'Gosh, I could pass for a vampire...' - without, of course, believing in vampires.

Enough about mythical creatures, she decided that it was time for her to have fun in the real world. With oozing confidence, she entered the club, smiled to herself and headed to the bar to order a drink. Next to her was a man dressed to kill. She wouldn't strike up a conversation, a lady should only speak when spoken to.

[Edgar Cromwell]

Edgar's attention was drawn to Aethel the moment he felt her presence. His gaze found her among the crowd, looking almost as luminescent as his. For a moment, just a moment in time, he thought he was seeing Alessandra Winter, the vampire that had taken his mortality almost two centuries ago.

The reaction was immediate. Anger. But the smell caught his eyes. No... Not vampire. That was a human. He blinked his storm gray eyes and saw who it really was. Not Alessandra. Definitely not her. He was able to relax his tense muscles, one at a time and turn back to his still full bottle of beer. It took him a few minutes before he was able to recompose himself. The initial shock had been too great.

Looking at her with a sidelong glance, he studied her stunning features with a practiced eye. Definitely gorgeous. And full of life. For Edgar, that meant full of blood too. He could almost taste that sweet liquid on his lips, sliding warm down his throat, and giving his long-dead body life again. The thought alone was intoxicating.

After another moment, he turned his head towards her and a smile graced his lips. "May I buy you another drink, miss?" He asked, his voice cultured and smooth with an accent. It was a nice voice, luring as was his gaze when he wished it to be. For now, they were just gray eyes set in a handsome face.

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[Aethel Marie Craven]

While Aethel was more than confident about her allure to men, she was not always sure about herself and definitely not vain so she was mildly and pleasantly surprised that he had asked her to buy another drink. Aethel had met many bizarre persons in situations like these before but she was never afraid and would do it again and again. And here she was, taking a chance.

“I’d very much like that, thank you. Your choice…”, she chirped before giving him a bright smile.

She wondered who this boy might be, what his job was, whether or not he had a girlfriend. Aethel would not just let anybody buy her a drink, they first have to catch her eye or immerse her in an interesting conversation. As for the boy in front of her, it was his physical appearance that attracted her to him. Not everyday did she have an exceptionally handsome boy to buy her a drink.

Now that he had spoken to her, she would just simply forget about being a lady and let herself loose.

“I’m Aethel, from London. Whose company am I enjoying?” her tone of voice of loud and clear in the noisy club, she pronounced every word with perfect diction of a fine English accent. She sounded and was very confident. Her back straight, her crossed legs pointed towards his direction and her emerald eyes directly meeting him, glittering with excitement.

There was a bold smile that lingered on his face.

Aethel loved to talk.

“So do you come here alone or are you with various attractive people such as yourself…”

She’d probably ask him to dance as well. The timid lady attitude was completely out of the window and welcome the true Aethel Craven.

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[Edgar Cromwell]

Edgar wasn't sure what she would like so had told the bartender another order of whatever she had been drinking. He still had his beer, so wasn't looking for another bottle of his own. He still couldn't drink the one he had now under he fed. When he though about feeding, it was like his sense of smell went into hyper activity. He could smell this woman's sweet blood under her skin, as if it was the sweetest thing that he could roll over his tongue. And it probably was. The smell alone was more intoxicating than any alcoholic drink.

His ears picked up her voice as he savored the smell of her life, almost missing what she had said. But he had heard enough. "Edgar, Edgar Cromwell. I'm from Exeter. He said clearly, his eyes focusing on her green eyes. It helped him focus on the task of hand instead of letting his hunger get ahead of him. That would be bad in public...

"I'm here alone. Of course, the only attractive person I see here tonight is you, Miss Aethel." He bowed his head a bit, his gray eyes locked with hers. Edgar didn't think it could take long to get her alone but it wouldn't hurt to make sure she was at least semi willing. Of course, how would he even know she believed in such things like vampires.

It didn't matter to him whether she did or not. Blood was blood, believer or not. And he was craving her blood.

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[Aethel Marie Craven]

At first, the boy seemed a little preoccupied looking at her. She wondered, perhaps there was something in her eyes or was he only flirting with her. Edgar Cromwell. A lovely name combination, she thought. Very fitting to how he looked too. She began to be curious about him, she had always been a curious girl and never thought that it would ever kill the cat.

"Looks like you've succeeded to make me blush without alcohol.", she chuckled her gaze still on him. She did go a little pinkish in the cheek too.

Aethel felt a strong feeling of attraction to the boy right in front of her, something she had never felt before. She, of course, did not lose her calm but inside she wanted to get out of there, escape the scene and be alone with him. She did not have any reservations due to the fact that he was a stranger. It seemed that she could trust him. Was it love at first sight?

Taking the drink in her hand, she stared at it for a couple of seconds without saying a word to Edgar. She frowned a little trying to reason with herself quietly. There seemed to be a voice inside her head telling her to go ahead, go ahead Aethel...

She glanced at him, took a deep breath and gulped her cocktail down.

"What do you say we get out of here? I'm suddenly a little hungry..." She wasn't hungry at all, not for any food; but she was for him. All she wanted now was him all to herself. She was already infatuated with Edgar. Infatuation was something she never knew in her life before. It would be nice to have a proper conversation going on between them. She would want that more than anything else.

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[Edgar Cromwell]

He could taste the rush of blood as it flowed to her cheeks. It was torture to sit there and not sink his fangs into that delicate neck. He swallowed, the blush on her lovely cheeks causing him to salivate a little. He smiled at her, trying to appear calm and charming on the exterior while he was really roiling inside with his hunger.

It was taunting. The cure to this insatiable hunger right in front of him but just out of reach.

Not for very much longer it seems.

He grinned at her offer, wondering if it was just destiny to be saying just what was on his mind. He sensed the connection already but the fact that she used the excuse that she was hungry couldn't be just a coincidence. He nodded to himself, pretending to take another sip of his still full bottle of beer.

"I'm ravenous, myself. Do you have someplace in mind?" He asked, searching for the bartender to pay off the tab. Though he caught the bar tender's eye and slipped him a dollar. But what the bartender saw was enough to pay off the tab and more. He smiled, having made sure that Aethel couldn't see this little transaction.

Turning back to her, he stood from his seat and offered her his arm. "Allow me..." He said softly, waiting for her to take his offered arm.

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[Aethel Marie Craven]

This was going to be an interesting night for Aethel. She had always believed in soulmates where a girl upon seeing a boy knew right away that he was who she wanted to spend her life with, growing older, having children, she had it all planned for the right man. While her attitude in general did not portray her idealist self, she was profoundly traditional. There was also something absolutely romantic about growing old together with someone you love who became your best friend - a lifetime companion.

"That's perfect then. I'm thinking of taking away Italian, I know a good restaurant and perhaps eat at mine? I have a lovely apartment with a terrace, it's on the top floor actually, like a pent-house."

A bottle of wine, some candles and perhaps Casablanca, if she were lucky, perhaps she could share a kiss with him tonight. She was also thinking of spaghetti, that lady and the tramp scene was definitely worth copying. Or perhaps not, she had to remind herself sometimes that she was no longer eight years old.

Edgar was a perfect gentleman too! Smiling, she took his arm and even leant close to him to smell his perfume.

"I came by taxi, I don't drive. If you don't drive, we can walk there, it's around twenty minutes away." Looking sideways at him and examined his profile. Beautiful.

[Edgar Cromwell]

Growing old would not be happening in Edgar's near future. Not in any future. And kids? Forget about it. His chances of impregnating someone was one in a million and even then, the baby had a fifty-fifty chance of killing the mother before it reached full term. They were very good probabilities. Even so, he didn't need to worry about condoms. As a vampire, he didn't contract diseases and he couldn't transmit them either. He was as safe as a Ken doll.

"That sounds perfect." He commented on her idea of food, smiling to himself. Though in truth, solid food was impossible for him to digest. Then again, he was a master of illusions. He could at the very least cloud her mind and make it seem like his food was disappearing, as well as wine.

And talk about stealing kisses. He would be trying to steal more than just a kiss. Maybe a kiss from the neck. With fangs.

He grinned up at her, slightly before leading the way outside. "My car is in the shop right now. Engine problems. But walking is fine. It's such a gorgeous night..." He opened the door for her and looked around. "Which way?" He asked before looking at the flesh on her arms to see if she was cold. "Do you want my jacket?" Edgar asked, ready to slip it off for her.

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[Aethel Marie Craven]

"It's to the left, follow me. And yes please I'd like that." she wouldn't spoil the gallant gesture by saying no. She wasn't entirely cold but it would just be nice to accept it from him.

She just couldn't imagine tonight would be so splendid. There she was with a painfully handsome man who seemed to dote on her as well - walking side by side under the moonlit night - why it was like in one of those sickly romantic novels. The next thing that would happen would be a perfectly romantic scene from a sickly romantic movie. She smiled to herself before coming back down to earth to speak to him. Aethel was elated, to say the least.

"I have the tendency to meet men who are much younger than I am, may I ask how old you are Edgar?" That was true. Looking younger than her age, Aethel usually attracted the attention of either men who were far too old for her or just a little bit under the age limit. Say eighteen, seventeen - the age difference didn't seem to large but at those age, it seemed very awkward. She was twenty one but if he were to be eighteen then he would probably be just finishing high-school.

After a while, they reached a crowded Italian restaurant. Crowded due to popularity. Thinking about the food, made her actually hungry. "Here we are! Finally here. I love this place, it's always crowded but the food is amazing - better to take it away though." Before even enterring they were offered the menu. "Just ordering to go please.", she addressed the waiter and took the menu before leaning closer to Edgar to let him have a look as well. "Their Calzone is very good...I think I'll have that."

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[Edgar Cromwell]

Edgar nodded, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders gently. After the jacket was secure, he offered his arm again and let her lead the way towards the restaurant. The age question made him smile to himself. It was funny, to him. Was he younger than her? Of course not. Her great grandmother wasn't even born when he originally walked the earth as a mortal man. He remembered when he died and just decided to tell her the age of his death.

"I'm twenty-three. Hopefully that's not too young for you?" He asked softly, smirking to himself as he glanced at her face, lit by the streetlights. Edgar has got to admit, she looked younger than what she possibly was. He imagined preserving that youthful beauty, changing her and making her his companion.

Would that mean he would do what Alessandra did? Change her and then abandon her after a handful of years? He didn't know. How could he... Edgar hasn't even turned anyone before.

Looking around the restaurant, his nose filled with the variety of scents. But it wasn't just the food he was smelling. He smelled the life that filled this place. He could almost taste a variety of flavors of life on his tongue, making him even more hungry. Edgar licked his lips subtly before looking over the menu with her, casually putting his arm around the back of her shoulders as they looked at it together. "I'll have the same." He murmured, his lips close to her ear. Which meant he was that much closer to that pale expanse of her neck. His eyes flicked to that bit of skin and he felt himself fighting the urge to just sink his fangs in now. In public. It was hard.

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[Aethel Marie Craven]

Twenty-three is the perfect age. "No, not at all. I'm two years younger so that works well.", she chuckled a little then smiled. His voice was intoxicating, she just wanted to hear him speak again and again.

Aethel beamed when he put his arms around her as they looked at the menu. She felt like a giggly teenage girl with butterflies in her stomach. Nonetheless, she remained ungiggly and very mature. But it was when his lips almost touched her and his warm breath fell upon her skin so graciously as he spoke that Aethel could feel something uncanny yet beautifully powerful stirring inside her. She closed her eyes and inhaled. With an unnoticed bout of nervousness she replied, "Sure I'll order two for us."

Without moving from where she was, Aethel said her orders as quick as possible to the waiter who was eager to take it down.

While they wait, Aethel decided to get to know Edgar. The usual small talks. She turned to face him - as a consequence of their earlier position, this made her stand very close to him. Her eyes was once again fixed on his. "Tell me Edgar, are you always this...charming?" Slowly she put her hand on his shoulders as the world closed in on them, getting smaller and smaller.

What was happening to her, felt more real yet also more surreal than a dream.

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[Edgar Cromwell]

Edgar smirked to himself, hearing as well as feeling the reaction that he caused her to have. It wasn't just amusing, it was... nice to know in a way that he still had the same charm that Alessandra had taught him over a century ago. The charm that had started as a mortal being and blossomed into a dangerous weapon for him to harness and use against willing and unwilling victims alike. Aethel just made it ten times easier on him for the fact he had not once had to use his gaze to make her react like this to his charm. If that had been the case, she'd probably have been barely more useless that a living and breathing human doll.

It pleased him to know that there were still women in this day and age who react so strongly to eighteenth century gallantry and charm. Most of them bit his head off if he even tried to hold the door open. Though he had to admit, it was disturbing to think that he himself felt a connection to this... woman. He had thought he'd never fall in love after Wendy, his mortal betrothed before death. It had broken his dead heart to look in on the woman years after his disappearance and find her with child, two more huddled around her dress as they strolled home from a friend's with the husband in toll. It could have been so easy to feast on such a bounty of blood, as his heart had been torn in the rage he had felt. What could he expect? Her to grieve over him for the rest of her life?

Coming out of his memories with barely more than a long blink, he smiled sweetly down at this modern woman in his hold. She had ordered and was standing very close to him as they awaited. Edgar knew he could use this time to secure his possible meal for the night. His arm moved slowly from around her shoulders to travel down her back until he came to the inward curves of her waist. Then he brought his other arm up to lock hands behind her back, resting them lightly on the slight swell of her hips.

"I tend to be. Mother taught me a great deal about treating women right." He said, watching her closely. It would be safe to steal a chaste kiss. Though how long the kiss would remain chaste if he stole more than one would be up to her. Leaning down, he pressed his lips gently against her red ones, a quick touch of lips before slowly pulling back.

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[Aethel Marie Craven]

She wouldn't even try to imagine a better scene in her life. There were quite a few but none of them involved a boy nor a kiss.

Usually for Aethel, a kiss meant merely the touching of lips perhaps followed by hormonal drive. Merely flesh meshing with flesh. Body entangled with one another in the midst of superficial passion. Every male she had shared a kiss with she never had true feelings for. This she only realised after the arrival of Edgar Cromwell in her life.

As the night slurred into one sweet delirium within Edgar's soft kiss, Aethel, craved for more. Her hands searched for his face to hold it as she neared his lips before enveloping them into another short kiss. With her forehead slightly touching his, she whispered with a small chuckle, "Perhaps we should wait until we get to the privacy of my home. Not that it's an easy task to resist you..."

It was as if the minutes went faster than usual, a man with their meal arrived to send them quickly to the privacy of Aethel's humble home. As for the bill, it wasn't important. When the waiter asked for it, Aethel took out her credit card but if Edgar insisted on paying she would not emasculate him by paying for her meal. She knew the rules of the game.

Her mother had always advised her never to invite any man to her home and of course would scare her with the mythological being called a vampire. She used to laugh at that advice. To her, it was only a little strategy parents use to scare their little ones.

This time, it was an exception.

Right outside her door to her seventeenth floor upscale penthouse, she looked at Edgar intently, the expression of her eyes showed that she was in jest and there was a playful smirk on her face.

"Mother told me once that I shouldn't invite a stranger in the house. Were he a vampire then I'm done for."

With her back leaning and almost pushing the door open, she took Edgar's hand and softly attempted to pull him towards her - inviting him in. There was no doubt that she trusted him. Well, that was what people do when they fell in love with someone. In her case, it was at first sight.

"Vampire or not, I'm inviting you in..." , she half-teased him. "for dinner too..."

[Edgar Cromwell]

Edgar hadn't expected the reaction he received from her when he kissed her. As her hands enveloped his face, he grinned slightly as she kissed him again. When she had pulled back, he kept his eyes closed for a moment before speaking again. "Perhaps we should." He murmured softly, his voice husky with the promise of later that night. Though what her thoughts included may not be the same as his.

Of course, it could end in a meshing of flesh. Until he has blood in his system, he would be pretty useless in that area. His body needed blood to function in all areas.

He insisted on paying for the meal, mostly because he would feel guilty later if he let her pay. Edgar can't eat the food, so why make her buy it? Edgar handed the man a bill, doing the same trick he had with the bartender. Who needed millions of dollars when he could make any bill look like hundreds.

Edgar led her away from the restaurant and let her take the lead to the apartment. It was true that he couldn't enter the premises without permission from the home owner. It was ironic that her mom had warned against such things when it was happening now.

He smirked as she teased about not inviting him in. But without the verbal communication, just the gesture alone wouldn't mean much. Edgar made it seem like a joke that he couldn't enter until she said it out loud. "You know, what if you did just let the big bad vampire in?" Edgar said softly, his accent seeming stronger with the realization that he was so close to his go.

Taking the bag, he put it down on a nearby surface before turning to her. "I take it you don't believe in such things like that? Vampires...?" He asked, just trying for normal conversation. But he was so thirsty...

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