New Friends

She ran her hands over his shoulders, and down his biceps, resting her fingertips on his elbow. She normally refrained from touching him as much as possible, he tended to get jumpy at human contact, but he seemed so far away. She wanted to make it better. She always wanted to make it better. The fingers continued down until just a ghost of a touch flitted over a wrist and then over the back of a hand. She needed some kind of reaction from him. He'd been sitting in the same position for over an hour, and she needed to make it better...

He slowly broke from his trance as a more rational part of his brain recognized the pressure of another hand folding around his own. His eyes flicked up and to the left, taking in the open face staring imploringly at him. Tiny fingers entwined around his own and squeezed; he couldn't remember the last time anyone had tried to hold his hand. His daze slowly fell away and he became more aware of his surroundings. The muted activity of the coffee shop buzzed around them, oblivious to the little world they were creating for themselves. It was late, well past midnight, and anyone left inside was either too involved with their personal projects to notice them, or were trying not to be noticed themselves, sleeping off whatever ailed them in a corner booth. The staff were asleep on their feet; nobody needed coffee at this time of night.

She felt the intensity of his stare on her, and suddenly became nervous. She tried to pull her hand back, but his digits clamped down and would not release her. She cast about for any help she may require, but the booths around them were empty, and nobody was paying attention. The look in his eye scared her.

He recognized her. He didn't know where he knew her, but he knew he'd seen her before. The short blonde hair was new, but the expression was the same: mournful, hollow, filled with longing. And directed at him.

She saw the light don in his eyes as he dragged his gaze over her body. She felt violated. Like his eyes left a trail of used flesh in their wake as they continued on their path of discovery. It shouldn't be possible to feel this dirty from a LOOK.

She watched him. He realized why he couldn't place where he knew her. She was always in the background, following him. Watching him everywhere he went... What sort of person followed an abomination like him around? He wondered if he should be worried... Could this tiny girl ever be a threat to him? He decided he didn't care either way.

"My name is Cara..."

He stared at her. He hadn't asked, but it was nice to know.

"I wasn't trying to-"

He decided that was enough talking.

The force of his motion was enough to spin her around and knock her off her feet. She tumbled backwards into his lap and he held her tight to his torso. She was embarrassed by the shriek she had let out at the sudden movement. She found herself thankful that nobody noticed, or cared to do anything about it.

She trembled in his grasp and he liked it. He needed this fear. He leaned in and breathed in the scent on her neck. The tips of her hair tickled at his nose and he even enjoyed that. It was good to finally hold a body in his arms, in utter control of everything. She couldn't get away if she'd tried. He noticed though, that she wasn't trying.

She couldn't explain it, but she had no will to move, to try and get away. It's not that the large man's arms felt like home, or any such tripe as that. And she truly was afraid of what he could do to her. She had seen the way he'd looked at people before. When he wasn't trapped in his own world, or forced to interact with the real one, the light in his eyes as he stalked strangers on the street was a dark one.

"What do you think you're doing?"

The deep voice rumbled in the chest she rest against, and the words reverberated throughout her body. She trembled, unable to respond.

He accepted her lack of answer. He could feel her. He didn't care what she wanted from him. At the moment, his recent failure so fresh in his mind, he needed to hold onto a warm body. What he really needed was to feel the warmth seep away from said body, but he wasn't desperate enough to do anything in a public space. Not yet anyway. He reached one hand up and snaked his fingers around the girl's, Cara's, throat. On reflex, his fingers squeezed down. He could feel her try to swallow through the pressure and it set his teeth on edge.

A small part of her knew she was safe, but that might have just been logic and wishful thinking. The coffee shop may be mostly empty, but there were still people inside. Surely he wouldn't do anything drastic with witnesses, distracted though they may be...

He relished in the feel of her quivering flesh beneath his fingertips. He could feel her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He dug his fingernails into her skin, wanting to rip and drag and tear and destroy. She flinched at the new sensation, but still she remained unmoved. He wanted to push his limits. He wanted to see how much she would let him do. He pulled and stretched at the pliant body in his hands and buried his face in the juncture of her neck.

She could feel his teeth on her; not biting, just resting there. As if testing the waters before jumping in. She braced herself for it... She expected nothing less from him. She could feel the frustration coursing through his veins. She knew he needed to do it, but when it never happened she opened the eyes she hadn't realized were closed, and tried to crane her neck around to look into his face once more...

He pulled back and picked her up, placing her on her feet on the floor in front of him. She whipped around, shock and surprised staining her features. The question was on her lips but he simply rose to his feet and walked out of the shop. He could hear the door clanging behind him as he stepped out into the crisp air. He was almost amused by her antics. Feet pounded on the pavement behind him, trying to catch up to him.

"Dante!"

He stopped. He let her catch up to him. He had wanted to hurt her. He had wanted to rip her flesh apart and play in her blood and taste the sinew of her muscles. He had wanted to rip her head away from her body and drop in on the floor at his feet. He wanted to sink his hands into her cooling cavity and let the red wash away everything else. But it didn't feel right. Not with her. He let her catch up and stand beside him, bent over catching her breath.

"May I come with you?"

He gave her a brief once over. There was no reason to say no. She knew what he was. He could tell by the way she couldn't quite look at him, even though she tried. He didn't know what made him do it, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips and he continued walking down the sidewalk. He kept his pace slow and her footsteps echoed off the brick walls around them as she pushed to keep up with him.