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Your family sits around the campfire, winding down after a long day (night) of trekking through the forest. You’re all still a day or so away from the next town and thus an inn, much to Odile’s lament, but you personally enjoy camping out. Cool, clean air, fragrant with pine needles and moss, foliage that rustles and chitters from the animals and bugs hidden within, keeping you company as you travel, singing you to sleep as you all tuck away into tents at dawn. It’s so different from Jouvente, so much more peaceful. Lively, at the same time, but different from the liveliness of the city. In the forest, the nighttime breathes.
And Sif seems the most comfortable out here, away from people. When you all disappear into the trees, the tension melts out of their body, and you relax, as well. You’re happy when he’s happy.
As Mira regales the events of the new book she’s started with Bonbon, Sif tugs on your sleeve.
You turn to him, sat by your side, and raise a brow. When you meet their eye, however, and see it dilated, glancing between your face and just below, at your neck, and notice the way their body trembles ever-so-slightly, you know exactly what they’re asking.
You link your fingers and stretch your arms over your head, faking a yawn so large it cracks your jaw. It’s not meant to interrupt Mirabelle, but she notices and trails off. All eyes are on you.
“Ah, sorry, Mira,” you say. “I’m just tired. Gonna head to bed. Anyone need anything before I turn in?”
“Oh, oh!” Bonbon rockets from around the pit to your side and throws their arms around you. “I need my goodnight hug!”
You laugh and hug them back. “Of course. ‘Night, Bonbon.”
Bonnie muffles a “g’night” into your side before pulling away. They send Mira a grave look.
“W-what, what’s wrong?” Mira asks.
“You need a goodnight hug, too,” they say with absolute seriousness. “To keep the nightmares away.”
At that, Mira relaxes and giggles. “Of course!” She comes around the pit, and you stand and give her the usual bear hug, lifting her off her feet momentarily. She laughs in your ear.
You all look over at Odile, who raises a brow. “I think I’m good,” she states flatly. Then, she grins, wry, and shifts her attention to Sif. “What about you, Siffrin? You—”
“Actually, I’m going to bed, too!” he blurts, shooting to his feet. Before any of you can get a word in, they pivot and dash to your shared tent, slipping inside and jerking the zipper closed.
A beat passes. Mirabelle blinks. “Uh…”
Odile stares at the tent, seemingly at a loss for words, before she gives you a questioning look.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re a little too relaxed about Siffrin’s sudden departure.”
Oh, yeah, you guess you didn’t react much just now. You shrug. “I dunno. Figured he’s really tired.”
“…Uh huh.”
Bonnie squints at you. “Do you know something, Za?”
“Ha, nah, I know as much as the rest of you,” you lie.
Mira hums. “Well… will you check in with them before you sleep, just to make sure he’s okay?” she asks. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but…”
“For sure, Mira!” you say with a smile.
You bid everyone goodnight one final time and head for the tent, ignoring Odile’s eyes on your back. Once there, you step inside, carefully zipping the tent closed behind you. It’s dark, but you can hear Sif… panting?
“Sif?” You turn and wait as your eyes adjust to the dim lighting. “You okay?”
“Isa…” he breathes.
Their voice sends a shiver up your spine, goosebumps running up your arms. The bright of his eye glows, just a bit. Their gaze pierces you with pinpoint focus, watching your every movement, sizing you up. He looks at you like you’re prey.
You should be scared right now. Terrified, even. But, instead…
Wordlessly, as your heart jackhammers against your ribs, you crawl over to them and settle, sitting an arm’s distance away. He shakes.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Really. I offered for a reason.”
“But…” They’re so quiet that you can barely hear them. “I don’t… I feel like… you don’t feel like I’m just using you?”
…What?
Sif is worried about using you? Conversations from the past few weeks come to mind, heart-to-hearts about their feelings and fears, and—right, in the loops, he felt… he felt he was manipulating all of you into loving him.
Your heart aches. What kind of shame must they feel about urges like these? How does he feel about what’s happening to him right now, sitting here with you? It saddens you, seeing them in such need, so hungry, and yet exercising so much restraint it looks like it hurts because they’re so worried about harming you.
There’s a lot you could say. You don’t know where to start. It seems he’s constantly worried about hurting all of you—constantly regretful of the ways he already had.
You surprise yourself when you say, simply, “I want this, too.”
Sif whines.
You must have flipped some kind of switch in their brain with those words, because in a breath they close the distance, clambering onto your lap.
On your lap… on your lap? You’re so shocked at the sudden contact—not because it’s unwanted, but because a few weeks ago you were convinced Sif didn’t even like being touched—that you hold your breath.
For a moment, he clings, pawing at your back and breathing hard into your neck. You wait. They don’t go any further than that.
“It’s really fine?” they murmur. “Wait, I—” He must register the amount of contact too, because you feel him pull away. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked—”
“Siffrin.” He stops, still in your lap, but you can see his face now. “I mean it,” you continue. You look deep into their eye. “I want this.”
And, to prove your point, you tilt your head, offering your throat.
You blink, and then he’s already back at your neck, supporting your head with one hand. You shiver as you feel their lips brush against your skin, their breath hot on your throat. He’s so close that you can feel his chest heaving against yours. Then…
You can’t stop the gasp that comes out of you when their fangs sink into your neck.
It’s… how do you even describe this? You thought it would hurt, and it does, in a way, but not like a wound. It stings, but a pleasant heat radiates from the bite. His mouth is so warm, too, so soft and wet. He rubs his other hand idly on your bicep, like—like he’s petting you, or trying to soothe you? And they’re so small, fitting so comfortably on your lap, their weight a satisfying pressure against your body.
And then—and then he sucks, and you have just enough wits about you to suppress a moan because WOW that sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. The pull of your blood leaving you, their lips suctioned against your neck, capturing every drop, their tongue—oh their tongue their hot slick tongue working, massaging, lapping—
Honestly, you’re worried that he might feel how, erm, excited you are right now, being in your lap like this, but he seems utterly engrossed in drinking your blood.
Oh, Change. They’re drinking your blood. It’s better than you could have imagined and—
It’s over faster than you expect, so fast that you’re skeptical Sif got his fill. You don’t ponder too long on that, though, because shortly after they take out their fangs, they lick your neck, right on top of the bite. He licks a few times, actually, slow and meticulous. Whatever coherent thoughts you had left grind to a halt.
“To, um, close the wound,” he mutters.
As they pull away, you nod absently, and—oh. Oh, you’re dizzy. Maybe they did get their fill. Even while sitting, you sway, and Sif’s hands guide you to your sleeping mat, supporting you as you lie down on your side.
Sif hums. “I’ll be right back.”
They’re near silent as they slink to the flap and exit the tent, and while they’re gone, you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. In… and out. You repeat that a few times, breathing from your stomach. Slowly, your body cools down. You can think properly again.
Wow, okay… You got way more into that than you thought you would. If you’d known—and you really should have, with how much you’ve fantasized about this, but you never could have imagined how good it would feel—you would have talked with him about it beforehand. Now, you feel a little gross. You need to tell them about what happened and figure out what to do going forward. You want to help Sif, but you don’t want him involved in something he wouldn’t consent to if given all the facts.
The zipper opens, and Sif returns to your side, shoving something in your face.
You barely make out the silhouette of a bread roll.
“Um, it’s important for you to eat something after I uh—I f-feed,” he says, sheepish. He sounds back to normal now, all otherworldly intensity gone.
You take the bread from their outstretched hand. “Right—so my body can replace the blood, right?”
“Uh, right… I don’t think it’d be a good idea to eat while laying down, so… you feel like you can sit up a little bit?”
He sounds so concerned that it makes your chest tight. You prop yourself up on an elbow before biting into the roll.
The two of you sit in silence as you eat. Outside, you can hear scraping and water sloshing. Someone must be putting out the fire, which means everyone is heading to bed.
Sif’s eye isn’t glowing anymore. Their breathing is even, steady. You sense warmth and worry from him, not—not a desire to eat you alive.
On the one hand, you feel a little relieved. On the other hand, weirdly enough, you kind of miss how he was before. You like being wanted that way. You like the danger. Maybe a little too much.
Which reminds you… “Hey, Sif?” you ask after swallowing your last bite of bread.
“Yeah?”
“About earlier, with the—the feeding.” You’ve done your best to keep your voice down this whole time, but now you’re especially wary of being heard since the fire is out—since everyone is, presumably, no longer chatting and distracted. “I was like… really into it. Like, really into it. And that’s—are you comfortable with that? You’ve told me you’re not really into doing that kind of stuff, and—I really should have talked about this beforehand, but I didn’t realize how amazing it would feel and you seemed kind of out of it and—”
“Whoa, slow down,” he says. “Really into it, like…?”
You sweat. “Like, um… aroused. Like a sex thing.”
A beat of silence.
“I’m sorry! I feel bad about what happened and I’ll do anything to make it up to you—”
“Isa, no, it’s fine, really.”
What. “What?”
“I mean, I’m glad you’re telling me about it now, but like… I mean, doesn’t that make it kind of a win-win situation?” You can hear a smirk in their voice when they say, “I get your delicious blood, and you get to satisfy a kink.”
Your face burns. “It’s not…! Well… yeah, I guess it is a kink.”
Sif snickers. “Vampire simp.”
“I’m not beating the vampire simp allegations…” you sigh.
They stifle a laugh with a hand. “And…” he continues, more serious. “You didn’t know it’d escalate like that, and even though it did, you didn’t act on it. Your body just kinda did its thing, right? Sometimes bodies just do that. And you talked about it right after. So, it’s really fine.”
You can tell they mean it. The tension in your body releases. “Okay, sweet.” And then you yawn.
“Time for bed?” he asks.
“Would you grab my blanket for me? I would myself, but…” You reach for the blanket near your feet without any real effort, grunting for additional effect. Sif snorts. “It’s so far... And I’m cold… so, so cold…”
“You’re a big baby, you know that?” Sif teases, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over you. You expect them to retreat to their own pad, but they hover over you instead.
“Sif…?”
“Could we, um… Well, it really is cold, and… I liked being so close to you earlier, and… you—you don’t have to! I can—”
You chuckle. Change, he’s so cute. You open your arms wide.
Even in the dark, you can see Sif brighten. They crawl under the blanket and into your embrace, burying their face in your chest.
“’Night, Sif,” you murmur into their hair.
“Mmm…” is all you get from him.
With Sif tucked against you, you almost don’t want to fall asleep. You want to savor this closeness, the way they fit so nicely against you, the way their hair tickles your face. But… losing blood tuckered you out. So, you sleep, and you dream of a hand caressing your arm and teeth grazing your neck.