Bored at Night

Telling James why she hadn't killed him yet was off the table. No one could know. Thankfully, she was still okay with lying.

"Not here." Irene replied.

She could hear his every heartbeat, his every breath, she could feel the blood rushing through his veins and she could feel herself getting hungrier by the second, but still the urge to feed wouldn't come. Her fangs were half-way exposed, but that was merely instinct. That had never happened to her, and it scared her more than she thought possible.

James tried to move his body around to get a better look at her, and why she was doing what she probably didn't normally do. He succeeded in turning his shoulder around to look as her fangs appeared to only be extended a little, not nearly enough to use for feeding. He felt safe, for the moment.

"Alright, then. Where?" He asked, pondering the reasons and thoughts that were going through Irene's head. He had never thought about that before, the thoughts that a Vampire had. Perhaps, was she feeling something, maybe human? He wasn't sure.

That was probably the last reply Irene had been expecting. Usually, people stalled for time when she was about to kill them, but James was asking her where she would kill him. Maybe he had seen that she wasn't about to feed when he turned to look her, or maybe he just wasn't afraid of dying.

"Somewhere without an audience." Irene replied, hoping that her excuse was good enough.

James could see the look on her face as his body seemed to get looser. He didn't know if Irene had known or if all this talk was getting to her. He looked into her eyes as she replied, he had this feeling that he couldn't shake, perhaps an instinct or just dumb luck. It felt like she wasn't planning on killing him, which somehow wiped most of the fear away.

"Well, then. Alright." He said, "So why won't you let me leave, then?" The question went through his head several times, still not able to come up with an answer as his entire body seemed to come loose as he turned around to face her directly, waiting for a response.

A part of Irene really wanted to let James go, but she knew she couldn't. Doing that would mean succumbing to her own humanity, and she wouldn't do that. How had she gone from ripper-like to on the verge to give in to her humanity, she didn't know, but she knew that every time she tried to allow herself to be more human she ended up in a bad shape. Humanity just didn't work for her. Maybe she had too much of a dark past to be able to flip the switch back on, or maybe it was just in her nature to be a ripper, she didn't know, and she didn't much care. All what mattered to her was to keep a grip on the switch and make sure it didn't flip on.

"And let you walk away? Nope." Irene replied, applying more strength to her grip on him. He couldn't walk away, she couldn't let her humanity win. And if it did, James couldn't know.

As the grip tightened on his elbows, he winced a little as she looked at him. Irene appeared rather deep in thought, but about what James did not know, or even really think about as his elbows began to get tighter. His view shot past her and around the Grill only to see that there was almost nobody in there anymore. There went the rescue team.

"So you don't look like you want to kill me, and you won't let me leave..." His voice trailed off a little. "What is exactly keeping you from it?"

He knew, then. Irene didn't know how, but he had figured out that there was something wrong with her, that something was keeping her from doing what for her was like a second nature. If he could tell, then most people should be able to do so as well. Vampires, humans, werewolves, hybrids, everyone should be able to tell that there was something strange going on in her head. Usually, she didn't care what people thought of her, but if anyone could see her humanity, then she cared.

"What makes you think I won't kill you?" Irene asked, half to see if she could throw him off and half because she really wanted to know.

He looked at her before she replied, and could tell she appeared to be arguing with herself in some way. She seemed distracted. The grip, still tight on his elbows, seemed not as tight afterwards, it appeared as though she dropped her guard. But he did not seem to want to attempt to hurt her, or run anymore, she did not want to kill him anymore, or if that was her intention all along, he did not know.

"I can see it in your eyes, the will is not there to kill me." James didn't know how he deduced that reasoning, but it did seem the proper answer to why she had not struck him down yet.

A sudden rush of rage hit Irene, making her fangs elongate more. How could he see that? She considered herself the master of acting, but still he could see it. Was she not good enough or was he too good for her? One phrase kept echoing in her mind, giving her the will strength to keep on acting, to allow her rage to take her over and lead her to safer waters. No one could know.

"Are you sure of that?" Irene asked, her grip on his elbows tightening just a little bit as the veins under her eyes started to show.

James nerves seemed to rise a little as her face became more vampiric with the veins and the fangs, the whole shebang. But he continued to stand there, unwavering. Even with all of her attributes showing, he continued to believe that he would still live to see another day. He looked back into her eyes as the veins seemed to grow more and more in quantity around them.

"Yea." He said, he did not need to say more then that. If she was planning to kill him, he would already be on the ground. It was that, which made him believe that she would allow him to live.

Even as she gave in to her instincts and allowed herself to be guided by them, Irene couldn't kill him. She could threaten him, expose her fangs completely, but something inside her kept her from biting into his neck, or snapping it. She was running out of idea and becoming rather desperate. Would she have to force herself to do it? She had never done anything like that, it had never been necessary. She had no idea what a forced kill felt like, but she didn't think it was worth it. It had been over a century since Irene had last felt remorse, and she didn't want that to change.

"Don't be." She told him, slowly inching her fangs towards his neck, hoping that somehow the closure to his main artery would help her find the killer in her again.

James seemed to give off a slight smile, god knows why he would be smiling in a situation like that, like hell, but he was doing it anyway. He had the distinct feeling that she would not bite down as her canine's inched closer and closer to the side of his neck. He took a breath and exhaled as a sigh as he glanced down at her. He had forgotten about his broken wrist, which continued to hand there as the grip on his elbows seemed to tighten again.

"What are you trying to do, make yourself do something?"

Once again, he was right about her. She was trying to force herself to do something. She was trying to force herself to bite him. But that seemed absolutely impossible. Each inch cost her a lot of her will power, and when she was just one inch away from his neck, the last one seemed impossible.

"No, I'm savoring the moment." Irene replied, not sure if her voice sounded normal or sarcastic.

Closing her eyes and just concentrating on the sound of James' heartbeat, of his breathing and thinking of the delicious liquid that was running just below his skin, Irene touched his neck with her fangs so delicately that not even one drop of blood came out.

Even in the last moments of her unwavering strength and willpower, he continued to remain solid, and stood there without moving a muscle. He wouldn't be able to do anything anyway as her grip was still tight around his arms, allowing her to do anything she wanted.

"Well then how about letting the moment pass before you do something you will regret" He told her, looking into her eyes again, a gleam of sincerity in James', whereas he could not see what was in hers.

Regret. An emotion Irene had already felt and not much cared for, one she didn't wish to feel again. There were few she did, actually. But regret was one of the emotions Irene really didn't want to feel ever again. Would she regret biting him? She wasn't sure. Killing was what she did, it was a part of who she was. For over four hundred year she had killed human after human, always looking forward to the next kill, to the thrill of the hunt, her favorite part. Why would things just suddenly change? It didn't make any sense to her.

"Why would I regret this? It's nothing I haven't done and liked before." Irene said, having to back away slightly to be able to talk.

James noticed her hesitation when it came to killing him, or feeding from him. He believed that he was breaking threw the wall that Irene had built around her switch. Chipping away at it with each word, each movement. As Irene pulled away to speak, he knew that if he continued on this path, that he could actually make it out alive, and save the humanity of the vampire standing infront of him.

"That is right. But you are holding yourself back from the pain that you would feel. The regret." He said, face remained calm, no smile, nor frown. Straight.

Yes, she was hiding from the pain and regret. That was not a bad thing, not from her point of view. How could he ever understand? He was just a human, he didn't know what it felt like to be a vampire, to have to kill and then feel awful about it. For most of the years of her life, she hadn't had any option but to kill. There were no blood bags, and keeping a human as a frequent donor was almost impossible. Young vampires couldn't control their urges very well. And so she would kill, and after she realized what she had done she would feel so awful about it that she even starved herself, not wanting to run the risk of killing again. But when the urge came back, she just couldn't keep herself from feeding. What was wrong with wanting to run away from that?

"I don't feel pain. I never have." She replied, still trying to concentrate on James' aorta, this time thinking about the thrill of the hunt, trying to make her instinct kick back in.

James looked at her with his steel gray/blue eyes, appeared to be attempting to look into her soul, even though he didn't have that ability. As she spoke, though, he could hear the tone of exactly what she wasn't admitting to. Pain. He moved his head back into the original position, now looking to her mouth where her fangs still appeared to be out.

"Well then, why are you hesitating?" He asked her, again. All he seemed to be able to spout out were questions, continuously attempting to chip away at that wall of hers.

Lying had become like a second nature to Irene not too long after she was turned, much like killing eventually had. It was so much of a second nature that she sometimes didn't even realize when she was lying. It was only after James spoke again that she noticed that she had said that she had never felt pain. She had, and that was one of the things that made her want to run away from it. But no one knew about it, not even when she was actually feeling pain. Once again, one single phrase ran through her head over and over. No one can know.

"I told you, I'm not hesitating, I'm savoring the moment." Irene knew that James would be able to tell that that was a lie, but she didn't really care. She would never admit to be getting in touch with her humanity, she would never admit to have ever felt pain.

As Irene spoke, James could feel that she was spouting lies to his questions that seemed to nail home each time. Her grip was still tight over his arms, not allowing him to do anything but look around. Instead, though, he just looked at her as she stood there, hesitating, or apparently, 'savoring the moment' which would probably never pass as long as she was fighting with herself.

His attention slowly turned to her two arms which were holding down his elbows rather tightly, making sure he wouldn't move. "Are we going to do this whole thing again?" He asked, "What exactly is 'the' moment? When you decide to flip the switch, or your fighting of yourself?"

Mentally, her answer was one, but verbally it was bound to be another. The moment didn't really exist, but if it had to be something, it would probably be the moment when she was fighting herself, trying to keep the switch from flipping itself. If it managed to win her, the resulting scene wouldn't be pretty.

"We can, if you want to." She replied, smirking slightly. "The moment isn't any of that, James. Really, why are so sure that I'm having some kind of internal battle?"

He glanced to her, could feel the grip getting a little looser as she went on. Could he finally be cracking that exterior of hers, inching that switch further and further to the on position. He blinked, thinking more and more about how he should respond.

"Well, I'd rather not start the whole thing again" he told her, noticing the smirk. "Because, of the hesitation, the anger, pain that you seem to have built up, and your haven't killed me yet. Which usually means an internal struggle of some kind. I can see it through your eyes." He told her. Unsure if she would even believe him for a second, but he knew that something he said would sink in.

Irene wasn't sure what James was trying to do. Under normal conditions, saying the things he was saying would have gotten him killed within seconds. But for his luck, those were not normal circumstances. She couldn't bring herself to kill him.

Had she really buit up pain like James had said? If she had, she had buried it so deep that she didn't even know that it was there. She had always thought that the switch worked like a shield, not allowing anything in. But what if she was really building up pain? Flipping the switch on would mean even more pain than she had thought.

"Yeah, right." She replied, rolling her eyes. She was pretty sure that James didn't believe a word of what she said, but she still kept on lying. It was the best she could do.

She touched his neck's skin with her fangs once again, this time managing to put more pressure into it. Not enough to pierce his skin, but enough for her to be sure that he could feel it.

As the fangs came closer, again, he thought about what Irene could have been going through. Of course, he wasn't a vampire so he wouldn't exactly know, or even be in the ballpark with his feelings, but he needed to try if he was going to make any impact in Irene's point of view.

His glance then steered itself to Irene's head as she tilted it allowing her canine fangs to graze his skin over top of his neck muscles. "you continue to come to my neck to feed, but then pull away. What exactly do you plan to gain from that?" He asked her. His vision, moving around to the different parts, further showing his neck to Irene, knowing fairly well that she would not sink her fangs in.

"What do I ever gain from feeding? Blood, satisfaction, pleasure." Irene wasn't sure if that was what he meant, but she was saying that half to answer him and half to remind herself of how good it felt to feed. She couldn't forget that, ever.