Image credit: solid and ect, Hellsing
“I noticed that I changed a lot, this year. I’m not bothered by the people who bullied me anymore. I just feel like their comments don’t mean as much, anymore. I feel amazing, and powerful, against the world, now,” she said, ramming the fire with her stick. She continued.
“I know people change more quickly when they’re young. They learn super quickly when they’re a baby, and then a little more slowly as a teenager, and so on,” she said.
“I still change a lot, every year. I don’t always recognize myself day to day, honestly. Maybe that’s just me,” I said. It felt good to talk to her, and tell her things that other people found repugnant about me. She made a pensive face at the fire, and I felt worried for her. The moment was quiet, and the fire burned evenly on the large logs. She held her stick still over the fire, like she was fishing or something, and spoke dourly.
“I think some people keep changing. They never just become something. It’s kind of scary, actually. Thinking about growing up used to make me angry. I hated the thought that I’d stop liking candy and buttered noodles someday, for some reason. And then, I became this person, and the old me just disappeared, with all of her fears and passion. What’s even worse, is that some people don’t change that much. They have no idea what it’s like to feel this way, and they never could,” she said. I sensed that she was talking about Raoul. Her mind was ever turning him over, like a hot dog over a flame. Maybe more like a rotisserie chicken, since it went on all day. I knew she felt alone. She was going to reach for a cigarette, and let this moment escape like smoke. I felt that time-stopping fear in my body, looking at her withdrawn posture, that told me I needed to try again.
She’d been so warm to me all night, inviting me into her thoughts. That was one way to get inside. That was my favorite way to start. I realized now how hasty I’d been, every other time I approached her. I really am stupid, like everyone else says about me. I needed to wait for the right moment. Sure, it felt almost like hunting. It felt dishonest, to approach her when she was vulnerable. To get inside her head and draw out that loneliness that she’d been hiding, and use it to get close to her, was just the human mating dance. I got off of the rock I was sitting on, and sat down on hers. I took a moment to look at her closely, her face looking so fine and pretty from that angle. I put my arm around her shoulders, showing her the solidarity that we’d only expressed in words. Squeezing her body against mine, she made a “mfph” sound of pleasure. She didn’t push me away this time. It felt like another time-stopping moment. My inner core had known that she wouldn’t push me away again, but it hesitated to tell me. I could barely function, just knowing I was this close to winning her over. I steeled myself, like I was getting ready to pounce. I needed to do this correctly, now. Any mistake in timing, even breathing, could make her change her mind! Scenarios ran through my head, like flipping through timelines, to find the one successful future. She turned her head to look at me, and my heart raced with fear. The wondering of what made me afraid, exactly, flew by as well.
She appraised my face, filling me with more fear, and then she reached up and put her hand on my cheek. She gently guided me forward. I closed my eyes, and waited for just a second, before she kissed me. I made a “mmf” sound, before I cut myself off in embarrassment, and she moaned back at me. She must have been so ready for me. Soft, squishy lips on mine, gently opening to rub her pretty girl saliva across my own, wasn’t something I’d felt in a while. This was Alice, I reminded myself, to squeeze more pleasure out of my heart. My heart, which only beat because of her presence.
I kissed her expertly. She grabbed on to the front of my shirt, and I knew it was better than anything she’d felt before. Running my hand down her body, she writhed under my warm palm. I ran it down to her thigh, where I grabbed underneath and pulled up. She made more noises, and her lips stopped moving. God, I wanted to taste her blood so badly. That, and other things.
I realized why people believe it’s wrong to be with a young girl, as I held her soft body in my hands, yielding and delicious as whipped cream. She’d never been kissed by a man who’d kissed hundreds of women before. She’d never heard those words of understanding from anyone else before. I would be the first man that she loved this way, and it was all too easy. For the first time, the human race has become aware of how awful it’s own nature is, and it desires to become better. It’s sweet, amazing, and wonderful. Sure, however, I am a being who survives by consuming human lives every night. Should I hold myself to moral standards now? Is now really a good time for that? With all the moral ambiguity I’ve tolerated in order to continue living, why stop now? Maybe, because I care about her, I want to do the right thing. Which would be what? Leaving her hanging, and waiting until she was in her twenties or something? Still not changing the fact that, originally, I had been violating her privacy since the day we met? What made me decide to keep going, in that moment, was the memories of my own suffering. Constant, constant suffering. Now, at last, I had the opportunity to escape that misery. The other moral arguments remained, however, I took my own inner hand and I swept them away. I swept them into a box that I could deal with later. I filled myself up with other arguments. Humans mate, regardless of whether it’s right or wrong. It wasn’t like she was a child. She was old enough to be independent. Just barely, but still. This could be her first independent act. I don’t believe that morals should be followed to the letter, anyway. I smiled to myself, with terrible glee. These fears wouldn’t bother me, now. But in order to stay a somewhat good person, I tucked them in the corner. After all, they might come in handy later.