Your Beauty Effulgent- Part One
Title: Your Beauty Effulgent by emo_chick_87
Word Count: 15,309 in Total
Characters: Puck, Kurt, Sarah Puckerman, Norah Puckerman, Drusilla
Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt, brief Puck/Drusilla
Genre: Angst, Romance, Crossover (w/ BTVS, ATS)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: violence, character death (pretty unavoidable when dealing with vamp fic), sex between the boys, brief descriptions of captivity/torture
Summary: When Drusilla waltzed into Lima she was looking for someone to replace her William. A shiny new boy the glowed. She found Puck. When she chose him she didn't see his stubborn will, the might with which he would fight for his soul. And she certainly didn't see the boy made of sugar cane and power that danced in his heart.
**
The acrid air prickled Drusilla nose. It was thick with the stench of hate, lust and the smallest dash of the fear that always accompanied small town living. The scent caused her vampire visage to slide across her face for the briefest of moments. She spent the last three weeks following the stars to the place Miss Edith had whispered about when she was sleeping. Whispered words that promised a new boy that she could call her own. The boy that would love her like her William once did. The boy that had a fierce heart. The boy she would fill with darkness and the boy that would give her his sunshine.
Her thoughts were pulled from her daydreams as a man struggled in her grasp. His struggles had dislodged her fangs from his neck and his hot gasping hit her cool skin. Her hand crept from where it was clamped on his shoulder to rest against the nape of his neck. She flicked her wrist and giggled as the bone gave way under her fingers. He fell limp against her before sliding to the ground at her feet. She swiped the back of her hand angrily across her lips as she cringed at the slick slide of the man's blood. It tasted like poison. Heavy with too much sugar and grease. It sat like a rock in her stomach and she felt her body reject him almost immediately. As quickly as she had taken him in, he was leaving her. His blood splashed against the pavement and stained his light brown hair.
As she walked away from him, she felt her skin bristle as her body tried to warn her about impending dawn. Hunger gnawed at her as she slipped into the house she has claimed for herself when she first came to Lima. It's Victorian shutters made it feel like home and the pungent smell of jasmine from the backyard had drawn her in. The smell of jasmine clung to Ms. Auger's neck and mixed with the clean taste of her blood. As she twirled freshly picked jasmine through her fingers, she tried to remember that the stars didn't lie. The stars told her to keep looking. The stars told her and she always listened to the stars.
**
Puck struggled with his heavy backpack. The weight held against his back reminded him of all the ways he'd changed in the past year. A half written English essay about Pride and the Prejudice filled with big words and even bigger ideas that he actually understood made him think of all the ways he had started to believe in his worth.
Kurt's words echoed in his ears. The breathy invitation that sounded like everything Puck wanted but wasn't ready for. Framed within a night spent as friends that had the promise to be so much more. In an instant Puck had managed to turn that breathy voice into downcast eyes as he muttered something about fight club.
The empty house creaked in protest when he entered. A note was on the kitchen counter letting him know that he would be eating alone again. His backpack was thrown on the couch and Puck thought about finishing the essay that was due the following week. His fingers leafed through the typed words of love. Key phrases jumped out at him, pulling him in. His stomach rumbled in protest as the sunset without his hunger being sated. His eyes were frantically scanning the pages. He devoured every page like he was reading it for the first time. He didn't take his eyes from the book until his cell phone pinged in the thick silence of the house. Puck's neck cracked in protest as he rolled over to pull the phone out of his pocket. He smiled to himself as he noticed that it was Kurt sending him a text message.
Finn just tried to eat his weight in spaghetti. Rachel stormed out. I wish you could have seen it. On the way to the movie. Have fun at fight club.-K
Puck wrinkled his brow as his body ached to be there. He could practically see Finn's red cheeks, Rachel's disapproving look, Kurt's lips pursed as he tried to hold back a laugh. The mention of fight club made Puck heave himself off of the couch. Every inch of him wanted to stay home. Every piece of him wanted to get lost in the brisk notions of disapproving acquaintances turning into lovers. Getting lost in the wishful thinking of breathy whispers but he had told Kurt he was going to fight club. Of all the things he wanted to be to Kurt, a liar wasn't one of them.
Walking towards the abandoned warehouse, his shoulders felt heavier than they had just a few hours before. Desperation and anxious fear bounced off of his skin as he walked into the room. Angry boys acting like men filled the big space. He rolled his shoulders as the leader stepped forward to explain the rules.
Phil had been the leader of the club for longer than Puck had been a member. Puck had the sneaking suspicion that he'd been there long before Puck was even born. Every once in a while, Phil's eyes would rest on him for a second too long. I was almost like he was seeing the face of someone familiar. Someone that once meant something to someone.
The gaze was like a cloak against Puck's skin. It was the same heavy feeling that always came over him when his Ma would look at him straight on. He knew they were seeing the man he could barely remember. They were seeing the man he was desperate not to become. When they looked at him, they saw his father. The sly, sideways looks would drag him down like a noose around his neck.
In truth, that was why he first fell in love with Kurt. Kurt was the first person to look at him and see him. He didn't the awkward way he wore his father's nose or the way he fought with himself so his father's gait wouldn't be mirrored in every step. He didn't see the weight that bowed his back and hunched his shoulders. Kurt's shy looks out of the corner of his eye were always followed by a blush that would paint his cheeks and neck pink. Kurt's looks made him hope. Kurt's looks made him feel. Kurt's looks made him love.
Kurt was the kind of guy that wanted someone that would stay. He wanted romance and talk of forever and making love. The thing everyone failed to see was that was what Puck always wanted too. He wanted chlorine-flavored kisses after backyard picnics. He wanted a family and he wanted a home. But then it hit him. Like it always had to hit him. The darkness of the room filled his senses and he was reminded.
He wasn't meant for sunshine lives and picnics. He was meant for this. For the sickening crunch of bodies hitting the pavement. For the dull thud of fists on skin. For the stench of urine and sweat. For the blood that seared his skin as it broke. He was meant for quick and dirty first times in rusted cars. He was meant for the girls that would leave their marks on his skin. He was meant for the shame those marks would always bring. He was meant for a life in the darkness. He was never meant for a life with Kurt.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the lone woman of the group. Her long dress billowed behind her and he could swear he heard the soft lilt of her humming to herself. He got lost in the sight of her until the guy beside him nudged him into the ring. She was wispy in a way that usually turned him off. He liked the people he fucked to have full hips. He like the kind of hips that he could dig his hands into and leave his fingerprints on. She was dark and looked kind of emo. She looked like the kind of girl that might have daddy issues if she was few years younger. But what the hell, he'd never said no to a MILF before. He watched her as her hand grasped at the air. It's almost like she's trying to pick fruit off of an invisible tree.
As Puck laid eyes on his opponent his heart sank. Puck knew that he was in trouble when he the guy winked at him. As the heavy fist collided with his face, Puck couldn't help but thing he should have taken Kurt up his offer to join the latest glee club outing. As the thick knee of his opponent jabbed at his side, he can't help but think that pizza and a movie was a way better way to spend a Saturday night. He spit blood onto the concrete and laughed as the guy made a run for him.
He swung a hard right hook and caught his opponent in the jaw. He crumbled and Puck went in for the kill. He was half trying to impress the woman in black with long, blood red fingernails. The other half was fighting against the guilt that rested in his gut about wanting to impress a girl when he felt the things he feels for Kurt.
His body gave into the anger that rested in the pit of his stomach. The thick hate of not being enough made his strong, made him vicious.
He stood over the new guy, who was stupid enough to challenge him. The poor kid was unconscious at his feet. Puck's chest rose and fell with every breath. Each exhalation made fire course through his veins. Each breath burned through his lungs like he had no business taking them in. Their blood painted his skin and he felt the fight leave him. The new kid crawled out of the circle as applause erupted for the group. The kid looked like hamburger. Puck looked as his knuckles and cursed himself for what he had done.
He had stood breathlessly over his victim. Glorious. Victorious. The woman caught his eye from across the room and beckoned him over. When the girl in black motioned for him to follow her, he did. Not because he was mesmerized. Not because he even wanted her. He followed her because this is what he was worth. Blood on his skin and dark alleys. Girls that hid in that darkness and sex that was never love. Blood-red lipstick on his neck and never being kissed on the lips. He was his father's son and none of Kurt's soft looks or even softer smiles were ever going to change that.
He followed her into the darkness. He wished he knew then what he knows now. He wished he knew about piercing fangs and the bat-shit crazy chicks that sink them into the tender skin at the base of your neck. He wished he knew that deciding to follow her meant he was agreeing to become a member of the bloodline that started the Order of Aurelius. He wished he knew that the breathless pained gasps were going to be his last. He wished he knew that he was walking into that darkness human and leaving a vampire. He wished he knew that it was a darkness that he would never be able to leave.
But most of all, he wished he knew that he was never going to get to kiss Kurt in the sunlight.
**
Drusilla spent the night listening to the stars tell her all the secret the sun had let slip while she was sleeping. She was able to ignore her hunger until darkness settled in for the night and Miss Edith told her it was time to play.
The squeak of the swing set was what drew her to the playground. Salt and pain filled the air. The smell assaulted her before she even noticed the small girl on the swing. As she approached her, the girl didn't flinch. Her loud sniffles made Drusilla cringe.
“Miss Edith said I'd meet a nice new friend. Look at you, all marigolds and loneliness.”
The girl sniffled again before looking up at Drusilla. She smiled slightly at the thought of not being alone anymore but bristled as Drusilla knelt at her feet and forced her to look her in the eye. The girl's eyes drooped as she was pulled into Drusilla's gaze.
Daddy used to love the fear. Angelus said it smelled like spice. Said the best humans always dripped in fear. Your daddy likes the smell of fear too. I can tell. I can see in you.” The little girl walked into Drusilla's arms. You're all week-old flowers and sea salt. My daddy wouldn't have taken you like this. He would have made you scream.”
Drusilla snaked her thin arms around the girl and pulled her in for a hug. She buried her face in the girl's neck. She felt her face shift and the girl's blonde hair tickled the ridges of her forehead. She pulled back slightly and whispered, “We're nothing like our daddies.”
Her sharp fangs pierced the little girl's neck and she whimpered slightly as Drusilla drank. Her brow furrowed as she felt the girl's heartbeat slow beneath her lips. Her once warm skin grew cold and Drusilla felt tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. She hadn't meant to take so much. She had meant to make a friend.
The girl fell limp and her blood raced through Drusilla. The innocence mixed with the tang of desperation lingered as she made her way out of the park. She spared a glance back to the girl lying in a crumpled heap and caught the sight of a boy jogging past the other side of the park.
His smell was intoxicating and propelled her across the grass. She'd followed his scent for almost a mile. He smelled like lust and burnt almonds. She almost lost him in the barrage of cheap perfume and sweat but his blood called to her. She felt the leers of undeserving men on her skin. She smirked as she heard the steady rush of blood through them. She fought the urge to pounce and was suddenly grateful that she had run into Marigold. Her hunger was sated enough to stand back and watch.
She watched from the distance as he fought. His long elegant limbs were skilled at exacting unspeakable pain. His olive skin was shining with sweat and blood. His wide back, marked with little white scars that spoke of a life like her William had once had. A life filled with differing kinds of pain. A life that was better left behind. She decided then that should he be victorious, she would make him hers.
When it was all over, she beckoned him to her. The dark corner hides them from the world. The sound of the night covered the pained gasp of her ripping into his throat and the gagging of him trying to stop himself from taking her blood. He fell against her as his body gave into the pain, into the finality of what was happening.
She carried him through the quiet streets toward his new home. She laid him in the bed she had claimed for them. She watched as he slept. She watched as he changed. She watched as he was born.
The stars had told her she would know when she saw him and she knew she'd found her daisy. Her daisy had been picked clean of almost all of his petals. Lost in too many loves me not's.
She drew him into the darkness. She stole his sunshine.
**
Puck had lived a lifetime of pain. He knew all about belts and backhands. He knew about welts and not being able to sit on the hard wooden chair of his desk. He knew about thin trails of blood staining his shirt as his healing skin gave way under one of Finn's lighthearted taps. Puck knew pain. He could always bear it silently. That's why the keening noise sounded so unfamiliar. At first he hadn't even realized that it was him.
He woke up alone in a dark bedroom. The smell of dying flowers overwhelmed him. The loud noise of the people outside made him feel like his head was splitting down the middle. A hunger he had never even known existed tore through him. He felt like his throat had been slit. Pain seared through his chest and he curled into a ball as he tried to breath through the pain. Tears streamed down his cheeks and an inhumane whimper broke out of his throat.
He rocked himself as the world assaulted him. Everything was too much, too loud, too there. He had learned to dull the edges of life but he couldn't do that now. Life was in Technicolor. Life hummed, vibrant and loud. His body screamed for something he couldn't put into words.
The bedroom door slammed open and the woman from the night before came breezing in. Puck felt himself buckle under the barrage of memories. He curled deeper into himself as he remembered the slide of her fangs in his neck and the metallic taste of her blood sliding down his throat. His keening mixed with a whimper.
His instincts pulled him up and he smelled a spicy scent that soothed him. It was one of the most pungent smells he'd ever smelled. It calmed the angry fire in his veins and stirred something deep within him. He pulled himself into a seated position and noticed for the first time that the woman wasn't alone.
A woman about the same age as his Ma was held tightly under her arm. She flicked the light brown hair off of her face and Puck felt his skin prickle. A deep growl settled in his throat. The smell was too familiar for his taste. He remembered scrubbing that smell off of his skin. She was the first person to turn pool cleaning into a euphemism when he was fourteen. He still had the scar on his pelvis that she left with her long nails. His contempt mixed with something new inside him, something primal. He felt his face shift and smirked as the thick smell of fear intensified.
He stalked towards her as he ran his tongue over the sharp points of his incisors. Her skin gave way under his teeth just as easy as he had given into her all those years ago. Instinct took over and he tore into her throat. Her screams mixed with gleeful laughter. His body sang as he felt her heart stop against his lips.
The woman he would come to know as Drusilla pulled him into a deep kiss. The tension is his shoulders telegraphed his strength. Sixteen years of pain disappeared and he pulled back from the kiss in a howl.
He didn't think about the people that might miss him. He didn't think about his baby sister all alone with their mother. He didn't think about the sun or Kurt or a life full of fight clubs and rough sex. In that moment all he knew was strength. In that moment, she had given him freedom. Her slender hands framed his face and he did the only thing that his new instincts told him to do to show his gratitude.
He said goodbye to his old life and he knelt before his sire.
**
Cont.In Part Two
Word Count: 15,309 in Total
Characters: Puck, Kurt, Sarah Puckerman, Norah Puckerman, Drusilla
Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt, brief Puck/Drusilla
Genre: Angst, Romance, Crossover (w/ BTVS, ATS)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: violence, character death (pretty unavoidable when dealing with vamp fic), sex between the boys, brief descriptions of captivity/torture
Summary: When Drusilla waltzed into Lima she was looking for someone to replace her William. A shiny new boy the glowed. She found Puck. When she chose him she didn't see his stubborn will, the might with which he would fight for his soul. And she certainly didn't see the boy made of sugar cane and power that danced in his heart.
**
The acrid air prickled Drusilla nose. It was thick with the stench of hate, lust and the smallest dash of the fear that always accompanied small town living. The scent caused her vampire visage to slide across her face for the briefest of moments. She spent the last three weeks following the stars to the place Miss Edith had whispered about when she was sleeping. Whispered words that promised a new boy that she could call her own. The boy that would love her like her William once did. The boy that had a fierce heart. The boy she would fill with darkness and the boy that would give her his sunshine.
Her thoughts were pulled from her daydreams as a man struggled in her grasp. His struggles had dislodged her fangs from his neck and his hot gasping hit her cool skin. Her hand crept from where it was clamped on his shoulder to rest against the nape of his neck. She flicked her wrist and giggled as the bone gave way under her fingers. He fell limp against her before sliding to the ground at her feet. She swiped the back of her hand angrily across her lips as she cringed at the slick slide of the man's blood. It tasted like poison. Heavy with too much sugar and grease. It sat like a rock in her stomach and she felt her body reject him almost immediately. As quickly as she had taken him in, he was leaving her. His blood splashed against the pavement and stained his light brown hair.
As she walked away from him, she felt her skin bristle as her body tried to warn her about impending dawn. Hunger gnawed at her as she slipped into the house she has claimed for herself when she first came to Lima. It's Victorian shutters made it feel like home and the pungent smell of jasmine from the backyard had drawn her in. The smell of jasmine clung to Ms. Auger's neck and mixed with the clean taste of her blood. As she twirled freshly picked jasmine through her fingers, she tried to remember that the stars didn't lie. The stars told her to keep looking. The stars told her and she always listened to the stars.
**
Puck struggled with his heavy backpack. The weight held against his back reminded him of all the ways he'd changed in the past year. A half written English essay about Pride and the Prejudice filled with big words and even bigger ideas that he actually understood made him think of all the ways he had started to believe in his worth.
Kurt's words echoed in his ears. The breathy invitation that sounded like everything Puck wanted but wasn't ready for. Framed within a night spent as friends that had the promise to be so much more. In an instant Puck had managed to turn that breathy voice into downcast eyes as he muttered something about fight club.
The empty house creaked in protest when he entered. A note was on the kitchen counter letting him know that he would be eating alone again. His backpack was thrown on the couch and Puck thought about finishing the essay that was due the following week. His fingers leafed through the typed words of love. Key phrases jumped out at him, pulling him in. His stomach rumbled in protest as the sunset without his hunger being sated. His eyes were frantically scanning the pages. He devoured every page like he was reading it for the first time. He didn't take his eyes from the book until his cell phone pinged in the thick silence of the house. Puck's neck cracked in protest as he rolled over to pull the phone out of his pocket. He smiled to himself as he noticed that it was Kurt sending him a text message.
Finn just tried to eat his weight in spaghetti. Rachel stormed out. I wish you could have seen it. On the way to the movie. Have fun at fight club.-K
Puck wrinkled his brow as his body ached to be there. He could practically see Finn's red cheeks, Rachel's disapproving look, Kurt's lips pursed as he tried to hold back a laugh. The mention of fight club made Puck heave himself off of the couch. Every inch of him wanted to stay home. Every piece of him wanted to get lost in the brisk notions of disapproving acquaintances turning into lovers. Getting lost in the wishful thinking of breathy whispers but he had told Kurt he was going to fight club. Of all the things he wanted to be to Kurt, a liar wasn't one of them.
Walking towards the abandoned warehouse, his shoulders felt heavier than they had just a few hours before. Desperation and anxious fear bounced off of his skin as he walked into the room. Angry boys acting like men filled the big space. He rolled his shoulders as the leader stepped forward to explain the rules.
Phil had been the leader of the club for longer than Puck had been a member. Puck had the sneaking suspicion that he'd been there long before Puck was even born. Every once in a while, Phil's eyes would rest on him for a second too long. I was almost like he was seeing the face of someone familiar. Someone that once meant something to someone.
The gaze was like a cloak against Puck's skin. It was the same heavy feeling that always came over him when his Ma would look at him straight on. He knew they were seeing the man he could barely remember. They were seeing the man he was desperate not to become. When they looked at him, they saw his father. The sly, sideways looks would drag him down like a noose around his neck.
In truth, that was why he first fell in love with Kurt. Kurt was the first person to look at him and see him. He didn't the awkward way he wore his father's nose or the way he fought with himself so his father's gait wouldn't be mirrored in every step. He didn't see the weight that bowed his back and hunched his shoulders. Kurt's shy looks out of the corner of his eye were always followed by a blush that would paint his cheeks and neck pink. Kurt's looks made him hope. Kurt's looks made him feel. Kurt's looks made him love.
Kurt was the kind of guy that wanted someone that would stay. He wanted romance and talk of forever and making love. The thing everyone failed to see was that was what Puck always wanted too. He wanted chlorine-flavored kisses after backyard picnics. He wanted a family and he wanted a home. But then it hit him. Like it always had to hit him. The darkness of the room filled his senses and he was reminded.
He wasn't meant for sunshine lives and picnics. He was meant for this. For the sickening crunch of bodies hitting the pavement. For the dull thud of fists on skin. For the stench of urine and sweat. For the blood that seared his skin as it broke. He was meant for quick and dirty first times in rusted cars. He was meant for the girls that would leave their marks on his skin. He was meant for the shame those marks would always bring. He was meant for a life in the darkness. He was never meant for a life with Kurt.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the lone woman of the group. Her long dress billowed behind her and he could swear he heard the soft lilt of her humming to herself. He got lost in the sight of her until the guy beside him nudged him into the ring. She was wispy in a way that usually turned him off. He liked the people he fucked to have full hips. He like the kind of hips that he could dig his hands into and leave his fingerprints on. She was dark and looked kind of emo. She looked like the kind of girl that might have daddy issues if she was few years younger. But what the hell, he'd never said no to a MILF before. He watched her as her hand grasped at the air. It's almost like she's trying to pick fruit off of an invisible tree.
As Puck laid eyes on his opponent his heart sank. Puck knew that he was in trouble when he the guy winked at him. As the heavy fist collided with his face, Puck couldn't help but thing he should have taken Kurt up his offer to join the latest glee club outing. As the thick knee of his opponent jabbed at his side, he can't help but think that pizza and a movie was a way better way to spend a Saturday night. He spit blood onto the concrete and laughed as the guy made a run for him.
He swung a hard right hook and caught his opponent in the jaw. He crumbled and Puck went in for the kill. He was half trying to impress the woman in black with long, blood red fingernails. The other half was fighting against the guilt that rested in his gut about wanting to impress a girl when he felt the things he feels for Kurt.
His body gave into the anger that rested in the pit of his stomach. The thick hate of not being enough made his strong, made him vicious.
He stood over the new guy, who was stupid enough to challenge him. The poor kid was unconscious at his feet. Puck's chest rose and fell with every breath. Each exhalation made fire course through his veins. Each breath burned through his lungs like he had no business taking them in. Their blood painted his skin and he felt the fight leave him. The new kid crawled out of the circle as applause erupted for the group. The kid looked like hamburger. Puck looked as his knuckles and cursed himself for what he had done.
He had stood breathlessly over his victim. Glorious. Victorious. The woman caught his eye from across the room and beckoned him over. When the girl in black motioned for him to follow her, he did. Not because he was mesmerized. Not because he even wanted her. He followed her because this is what he was worth. Blood on his skin and dark alleys. Girls that hid in that darkness and sex that was never love. Blood-red lipstick on his neck and never being kissed on the lips. He was his father's son and none of Kurt's soft looks or even softer smiles were ever going to change that.
He followed her into the darkness. He wished he knew then what he knows now. He wished he knew about piercing fangs and the bat-shit crazy chicks that sink them into the tender skin at the base of your neck. He wished he knew that deciding to follow her meant he was agreeing to become a member of the bloodline that started the Order of Aurelius. He wished he knew that the breathless pained gasps were going to be his last. He wished he knew that he was walking into that darkness human and leaving a vampire. He wished he knew that it was a darkness that he would never be able to leave.
But most of all, he wished he knew that he was never going to get to kiss Kurt in the sunlight.
**
Drusilla spent the night listening to the stars tell her all the secret the sun had let slip while she was sleeping. She was able to ignore her hunger until darkness settled in for the night and Miss Edith told her it was time to play.
The squeak of the swing set was what drew her to the playground. Salt and pain filled the air. The smell assaulted her before she even noticed the small girl on the swing. As she approached her, the girl didn't flinch. Her loud sniffles made Drusilla cringe.
“Miss Edith said I'd meet a nice new friend. Look at you, all marigolds and loneliness.”
The girl sniffled again before looking up at Drusilla. She smiled slightly at the thought of not being alone anymore but bristled as Drusilla knelt at her feet and forced her to look her in the eye. The girl's eyes drooped as she was pulled into Drusilla's gaze.
Daddy used to love the fear. Angelus said it smelled like spice. Said the best humans always dripped in fear. Your daddy likes the smell of fear too. I can tell. I can see in you.” The little girl walked into Drusilla's arms. You're all week-old flowers and sea salt. My daddy wouldn't have taken you like this. He would have made you scream.”
Drusilla snaked her thin arms around the girl and pulled her in for a hug. She buried her face in the girl's neck. She felt her face shift and the girl's blonde hair tickled the ridges of her forehead. She pulled back slightly and whispered, “We're nothing like our daddies.”
Her sharp fangs pierced the little girl's neck and she whimpered slightly as Drusilla drank. Her brow furrowed as she felt the girl's heartbeat slow beneath her lips. Her once warm skin grew cold and Drusilla felt tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. She hadn't meant to take so much. She had meant to make a friend.
The girl fell limp and her blood raced through Drusilla. The innocence mixed with the tang of desperation lingered as she made her way out of the park. She spared a glance back to the girl lying in a crumpled heap and caught the sight of a boy jogging past the other side of the park.
His smell was intoxicating and propelled her across the grass. She'd followed his scent for almost a mile. He smelled like lust and burnt almonds. She almost lost him in the barrage of cheap perfume and sweat but his blood called to her. She felt the leers of undeserving men on her skin. She smirked as she heard the steady rush of blood through them. She fought the urge to pounce and was suddenly grateful that she had run into Marigold. Her hunger was sated enough to stand back and watch.
She watched from the distance as he fought. His long elegant limbs were skilled at exacting unspeakable pain. His olive skin was shining with sweat and blood. His wide back, marked with little white scars that spoke of a life like her William had once had. A life filled with differing kinds of pain. A life that was better left behind. She decided then that should he be victorious, she would make him hers.
When it was all over, she beckoned him to her. The dark corner hides them from the world. The sound of the night covered the pained gasp of her ripping into his throat and the gagging of him trying to stop himself from taking her blood. He fell against her as his body gave into the pain, into the finality of what was happening.
She carried him through the quiet streets toward his new home. She laid him in the bed she had claimed for them. She watched as he slept. She watched as he changed. She watched as he was born.
The stars had told her she would know when she saw him and she knew she'd found her daisy. Her daisy had been picked clean of almost all of his petals. Lost in too many loves me not's.
She drew him into the darkness. She stole his sunshine.
**
Puck had lived a lifetime of pain. He knew all about belts and backhands. He knew about welts and not being able to sit on the hard wooden chair of his desk. He knew about thin trails of blood staining his shirt as his healing skin gave way under one of Finn's lighthearted taps. Puck knew pain. He could always bear it silently. That's why the keening noise sounded so unfamiliar. At first he hadn't even realized that it was him.
He woke up alone in a dark bedroom. The smell of dying flowers overwhelmed him. The loud noise of the people outside made him feel like his head was splitting down the middle. A hunger he had never even known existed tore through him. He felt like his throat had been slit. Pain seared through his chest and he curled into a ball as he tried to breath through the pain. Tears streamed down his cheeks and an inhumane whimper broke out of his throat.
He rocked himself as the world assaulted him. Everything was too much, too loud, too there. He had learned to dull the edges of life but he couldn't do that now. Life was in Technicolor. Life hummed, vibrant and loud. His body screamed for something he couldn't put into words.
The bedroom door slammed open and the woman from the night before came breezing in. Puck felt himself buckle under the barrage of memories. He curled deeper into himself as he remembered the slide of her fangs in his neck and the metallic taste of her blood sliding down his throat. His keening mixed with a whimper.
His instincts pulled him up and he smelled a spicy scent that soothed him. It was one of the most pungent smells he'd ever smelled. It calmed the angry fire in his veins and stirred something deep within him. He pulled himself into a seated position and noticed for the first time that the woman wasn't alone.
A woman about the same age as his Ma was held tightly under her arm. She flicked the light brown hair off of her face and Puck felt his skin prickle. A deep growl settled in his throat. The smell was too familiar for his taste. He remembered scrubbing that smell off of his skin. She was the first person to turn pool cleaning into a euphemism when he was fourteen. He still had the scar on his pelvis that she left with her long nails. His contempt mixed with something new inside him, something primal. He felt his face shift and smirked as the thick smell of fear intensified.
He stalked towards her as he ran his tongue over the sharp points of his incisors. Her skin gave way under his teeth just as easy as he had given into her all those years ago. Instinct took over and he tore into her throat. Her screams mixed with gleeful laughter. His body sang as he felt her heart stop against his lips.
The woman he would come to know as Drusilla pulled him into a deep kiss. The tension is his shoulders telegraphed his strength. Sixteen years of pain disappeared and he pulled back from the kiss in a howl.
He didn't think about the people that might miss him. He didn't think about his baby sister all alone with their mother. He didn't think about the sun or Kurt or a life full of fight clubs and rough sex. In that moment all he knew was strength. In that moment, she had given him freedom. Her slender hands framed his face and he did the only thing that his new instincts told him to do to show his gratitude.
He said goodbye to his old life and he knelt before his sire.
**
Cont.In Part Two