For a man of culture and taste, he was also a man of violence. While gone were the days of bullfighting and gladiatorial combat. Here, in the relatively 'tame' rural lands of New England, he was relegated to either betting on dogfights or cock fights or stepping into the ring with his fists. It took quite a lot of effort to do so without permanently maiming his opponents. Not that he cared about the sorts that frequented such establishments. They were people like him, seeking an outlet but not quite like him, or they would have joined the war or become a pirate. Sometimes he missed those wilds days.

Even with a rebellion funneling the young men away, it was too quiet here and he often resorted to the underground fighting ring in the nearby town. But even that entertainment paled in comparison to what he was used to. It made the evenings he met with Lorelle even sweeter.

Last time, he had told her the truth of what he was. She hadn't seemed to believe him, but even his odd behavior hadn't driven her off completely. Though his worry that she wouldn't appear at this meeting or would tell him to never see her again only drive him to getting in a fight more heavily. He might speak over seven languages and dress like a proper English gentleman, and regale Lorelle with fantastic stories of history and romance and daring and strange foods, might even let slip the fortune he had amassed to buy her a gift, but he was still a man.

He approached the narrow, covered bridge they used as a meeting point at a casual stroll. Arturo had never been concerned for his safety on the roads even five hundred years ago and mortal. Now, there was very little any human could do to him. He made for an imposing and confident figure, dark hair and dark eyes and the fresh cut under his right eye made for a quite dashing appearance. The blood on his knuckles making it quite clear where he had spent his evening and the questionable evening he had had.

He could smell the young woman before he saw her, that hunger as always just at the edge of everything. But he had long ago learned to control his wants and needs. Still, the desire to taste her remained. He reached out to the side of the bridge, trailing his fingers over the worn wood grain. "Of course. You expect me to deprive myself of your splendor?" His English was perfect. While he had long ago learned to swing his accent, he had also long ago learned that people enjoyed the tune of his voice as it was meant to be. So do he. The vampire would never claim to be modest.

"You, however, Lore..." He tasted her nickname on his lips. Between her fears over her family, and what he had shared with her before... "Is it wrong of me to be both shocked and relieved to see you again?" Even in the dim light, he could see her smile though, knew from her shy gaze she was just as happy. He paused just within arm's reach and offered her his hand, intent on pulling her close like he always did, if she would let him.

Her eyes caught the movement of his fingers tracing the wood of the bridge. She noticed the bloody knuckles, as well as the cut under his eye. She felt the desire to take her handkerchief and gently wipe his wounds clean, but didn't. Maybe later, but she also knew Arturo could take care of himself. He didn't need a mortal to fuss over him, yet she did. She couldn't help it. Lorelle blushed again when he spoke. He had such a way with words. Whether it was her little crush that thought this, or the factual truth, was unclear. She let her gaze wander over him, shortly and shyly. She didn't want to be caught looking too much, but Arturo was dressed well.

She then found his eyes again when he spoke again. The nickname sounded so sweet coming from him, and it made her smile. She accepted his hand and let herself be pulled closer to him. "I must admit I was scared for a moment, after what you told me last time", she said, looking up at him. "But I figured that if you had wanted to hurt me, you could've done so without revealing your true nature. So I am not scared anymore. I am fascinated by you. Captivated, even. I've never met someone quite like you." A soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She was close to him, yet she felt no warmth. He was a vampire, after all. But she felt safe like this, in the dim light, pulled close by Arturo, under their little bridge. She slowly raised her hand and let her thumb trace the fresh cut under his eye. She looked at her thumb, the blood on it. Vampire blood. What properties did it have? Could she lick it off, or would it mess with her body? "You're hurt", Lorelle mumbled.

Vampires possessed a rather strange 'healing' ability. Arturo found it amusing. Not only was he immortal, but his body preferred to mend itself to a 'perfect' state. He could will it otherwise, like now. Useful for moments he didn't want to appear too otherworldly. People had been burned as witches for far less and he himself had been interrogated more than once. But tonight, his languishing in the pains of mortals was for a different reason.

More than out of the annoyance of persecution, however, Arturo didn't speak of his true nature because inevitably, it hurt. Lorelle wasn't the first woman he had loved. Likely she wouldn't be the last. But she was one of the few he had felt close enough to confess to. And even fewer who came back afterward. Though whether she believed him and found him not too much of a monster or she simply thought it was a joke remained to be seen.

For a moment, simply having her warm body close to his own was enough. He pressed his cheek to hers, breathing her in her delicate scent. While the vampire had no blood of his own and no body heat, he had feed recently enough to not be cold to the touch. Though he was far from warm. "I would never hurt you, Lore," he said with a soft earnestness, pulling away so he could look down and meet her eyes. Despite her shy aversion of her gaze before, she had uch a hungry look in her eyes. So maybe she did believe him.

"We're a dying breed," he said with a charming smile, amused by his own joke. Hopefully she never met another like him. Call him jealous or perhaps afraid for her.

Arturo watched her examine the blood. He wondered what she was thinking. Not about how he was hurt so much as about the red smear on her thumb. "Mine. And also that of a stable boy the town over." He didn't like to eat where he was staying. Perhaps too it was a bit vulgar to confess such a thing to her, but she seemed curious. Far be it from him go all this way and deny her questions.

"It is of no consequence. See?" He took her chin gently and turn her gaze from her hand back to him. The cut under his eye healed closed and he reached up to wipe the bit of blood left over away, licking his finger clean with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The wounds on his knuckles had healed too, though rather than lick clean that mess, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned his hands. "Not that you seem to have needed the proof, but I came prepared," he mused.

"I always imagine you taste much better than any stableboy, little mayflower," he continued, stuffing away the soiled cloth and wrapping his arms around her once more. There were so many reasons he shouldn't be so close to her like this. But his fangs were the least of their worries. More appropriate to fear someone noticing the unwed woman galavanting about with a strange man.

If the world around them didn't exist, Lorelle would have loved to stay like that, cheek pressed to cheek, for all of eternity. But like Arturo, she too was aware of the fact that the world around them wouldn't take kindly to an unwed woman meeting with a strange man in the dark of night. When he said he would never hurt her, she believed him. The life she led had made her better at judging whether people spoke the truth or not. Although Arturo was no ordinary man, she could sense that he was honest. And again, if he had wanted to drink her blood, he could've done so without getting to know her and getting close to her. She felt as if what they had was special, to him too. She doubted he would put this much effort into a meal, especially when he could so easily find himself a stableboy like he had done earlier that night.

His joke wasn't lost on her. The air that came out of her nose was because she was amused by it, but the blood on his face caught her attention before she could respond to it. His blood mixed with that of his prey. She looked back up at him, still holding up her thumb with the smear on it. She would have preferred if it had been just the stableboy's blood. It being his as well meant he had been hurt. She didn't know vampires could heal themselves, and her jaw dropped slightly in surprise when Arturo demonstrated his power. "That's-," Witchcraft. Sorcery. Dark magic. No, she didn't feel like that at all, "Amazing." With her clean hand, she gently caressed the spot where the cut had been moments before.

But her attention wasn't on it for long. The blood on her finger had dried and wouldn't smear, so she let her hand down. A shy smile appeared on her face once more. "You think so?" Blood had a metallic taste. She couldn't understand how he could differentiate between tastes. How could hers be sweeter? But getting called little mayflower like that made her melt into his embrace even more. She tilted her head to the side to look up at him, exposing her neck slightly. "Does it hurt?" she asked softly. She was going somewhere with this. If it didn't... Or if the pain didn't last long... Then maybe she would be willing to offer him her neck. Perhaps Lorelle was a bit of an odd woman, because the thought of her blood in his body sounded romantic to her. He would carry a piece of her with him, until it had digested. The thought alone got her in some kind of mood. Even a virgin could feel a certain way. She wanted to be even closer, maybe kiss him... She looked at him through her long eyelashes, biting her lower lip. "Do you want me?" Her blood. Her body. Her. She wanted to give herself to him.

Arturo in fact put a lot of effort into his favorite meals. Especially if they were ones he wanted to have repeatedly. Though it had been a long time since he had that sort of comfort. He wanted so much more than that from Lorelle. So she was worth the wait. Even if all they shared was clandestine meetings on a covered bridge to talk about his adventures and her family. Perhaps it wasn't very exciting to some, but the vampire had long learned he preferred to not just make memories but to know people. To remember them.

His eyes watched her face intently. The way she raised her eyebrows in surprise, that flicker of instinctive revulsion that she immediately turned over. He knew the words she didn't say just as much as the one she did. But she did the opposite of pull away, reaching to his cheek again. He was always a little envious of the warmth mortals possessed.

He made a heavy sound of accent. He knew so. Explaining that was harder. The coppery taste was always there in blood. But just like a fine red wine, there were notes and hints of other aspects, if one knew how to evoke them. He dared not get himself started on imagining details. He wanted to taste her, but he would wait, enjoying teasing her and feeling her body against his.

He was about to ask after her siblings when she turned her neck to him and he caught his breath instead. Now who was teasing who? He inhaled slowly, beyond tempted to kiss her, to lick her gorgeous pale neck and- Her words stopped him. A moment of silence passed. "Yes," he said finally. Not becaise he wanted to lie, but because for all his eloquent words, this wasn't something he could dress up. Especially because it was a leading question he had heard before. He had too much affection for the woman wrapped up in his desire to taste her that he knew he could never be the one to ask. Still, while they enjoyed each other's company, her hesitancy to become physically closer before put the thought if her asking from his mind.

Arturo gave in slightly leaning in to lick the rim of her ear ever so softly. "Is that a question that honestly needs asking?" From how he couldn't keep his hands off her, to talking about the taste of her blood, to his need for her closeness. Of course he wanted her. Her body. Her blood. He didn't need to feed very heavily to survive but it had been a few days since the stableboy and her blood called to him, singing a sirens song of its own. He knew she meant it seriously. "The real question," he breathed against her neck, reaching up to thread his fingers in her hair. "Is where would you like me to take you? And how far."

Of course Lorelle just assumed a lot of things about Arturo, like that he wouldn't put this much thought into a meal. She hadn't asked him about it, and maybe she just preferred to feel like she was different, special even. She didn't know a lot about vampires, after all. Judging by the tales, they'd just appear behind you one night and bite, not make you fall in love with them first. That sounded more like a siren to her.

She seemed to catch him off guard a bit when she asked about the bite, and exposed her neck. She appreciated his honesty. She would have believed him if he had said if would only hurt for a second, because she would believe anything he said. She didn't know why. Perhaps she was just gullible. Lorelle was feeling things, and her guard (which was already pretty non-existent when she was around Arturo) was let down even more. Him licking her ear like this made a shiver run down her spine. He could ask anything of her right now, and she'd be willing to do it.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head in the hand that was intertwining her hair. She sighed deeply. Lore moved her head forward again, and stood on the tips of her toes. She gently pressed a kiss on Arturo's lips, her hand resting on his chest. "Anywhere, all the way", she breathed. But more realistically... "My siblings should be asleep by now, if you want to come over."

Dragging someone off in the night was easy. Pedestrian. Boring. But that was what he did much of the time, in some shape or form. Perhaps a one-night stand here and there even. But Lore was different. No, she wasn't the only person he had ever loved, nor would she be the last. But he didn't judge her in relation to anyone else. Lorelle was Lorelle. And whether he got to taste her or not, he wanted to know her. To bring her some piece of joy. To help her achieve her dreams.

Her silence breathed of disappointment, though he tried not to read into it. It was not small amount of pain to be bitten. But it wouldn't last, he would make sure of it. Besides, that shiver of hers spoke plenty more of what she wanted. He could feel her pulse quicken, her sweet blood rushing and only tempting him further. He perhaps thought her reckless and fearless to have returned to meet him, but not gullible. She was too smart for that, otherwise he imagined she would have been married off to some brute a long time ago. He suspected she was a virgin, but of course, 'gentlemen' didn't ask that of a lady. And if he was being honest, Arturo didn't care. It was her body, after all. He just wanted a taste of it.

He returned her kiss, straining to hold back, to let her pull away, to not graze his teeth over her lips. Not yet. Arturo chuckled. "How deeply asleep?" he said teasingly, looking down at her. He slid one his hand to her side, gently grasping the fabric of her skirt and pulling her close. the other moved to clasp her hand and intertwine his fingers with hers. He'd flirted with Lorelle before, but had never gotten her to be suggestive back, let alone invite him to her home in the dead of the night. Finally hearing what he wanted so badly, he wasn't about to really say no. "Lead the way, little mayflower," he encouraged, pulling her hand up into a dancing twirl before gently pinning her hand to the beam beside them and kissing her wrist.

She wasn't sure why she hadn't responded to Arturo telling her it would hurt. When he had called her little mayflower, she had wanted to offer him her neck then and there, but perhaps the reality of things had set in after he confirmed it would hurt. Lore simple couldn't think clearly when she was with Arturo. There was still time, though. Time to prepare for the piercing feeling, if or when she decided that she wanted to let him feed off of her.

Either way, after the kiss, she wasn't thinking about it anymore. The butterflies in her stomach almost made her feel dizzy. She had been close to Arturo before, but she had always seemed a bit hesitant. She had been worried about the future, and scared that she'd be a disappointing experience. He was the first she ever loved. Him revealing that he was a vampire had made her realise that life was short, especially for a mortal, and that she couldn't let worries dictate her life. She had admitted to herself that Arturo was what she wanted.

His hand on her waist and his fingers between hers turned her cheeks an even more red shade than they had been before. "That's for me to know, and for you to find out", she said with a chuckle in response to his question about her siblings. She didn't know how deeply asleep they were, but Lorelle was lucky enough to have a separate bedroom, on the other side of the house.

She smiled at him, after the twirl and the kiss on her wrist, and continued to hold on to his hand while peeking out from under the bridge. She looked left and right, but there was nobody to be seen. With soft and quick steps Lorelle would start to walk home, hoping Arturo would hold her hand all the way back home. If they encountered someone, she'd understand that he would have to let go of it, but most people were asleep by now.

---

After a fifteen minute walk or so, Lorelle and Arturo would arrive at the house. It was dark out, and Lorelle had made sure to take a detour that would let them arrive at the back of the house. The neighbours didn't live very close to the house, but it still couldn't hurt to be extra cautious.

The young woman opened the door and turned to face Arturo. She held a finger up to her lips to tell him to he quiet once they were inside. Unless interrupted by him or something else, she would enter the house and lead him to her bedroom. The creaky floorboards sounded louder than usual, but so did everything at night. Lore peeked around her siblings' bedroom door to check on them, and when she noticed they were fast asleep, she continued towards the opposite side of the house.

Finally, they would be in her room, away from unwelcome eyes and ears. Once she had closed the door behind them, she turned to face the vampire with a smile on her face. She would look vulnerable, but not in a bad way. Arturo would simply be able to learn more about her here. It's where she lived, where she worked, where she had lost her mother. Bringing someone to your room always was a vulnerable thing. It was full of things that were seldom talked about, like her clothes in the closet, her old dolls near the windowsill, the nightgown on her bed that he would never have known about if he hadn't come to her house that night. The bed itself. You never think about what people look like when they're asleep until you see their bed. But Lorelle wasn't thinking about any of these things. All she was thinking about was crawling back into Arturo's embrace.

She walked over to him and stood still in front of him, looking up at him. "Show me how to love", she said softly. She had no idea how to start.

He smiled as Lore side stepped his question. She was quite eager tonight. Clearly something they had discusses moved her deeply. He both wanted to ask and didn't dare add another obstacle to what they both clearly wanted. "I would very much like to find out."

As tempted as he was to pick her up effortless and dash all the way to her home (he had followed her once in secret and a few times as an 'escort' to ensure she made it there safely) he refrained. There was a time and a place for such dramatics and he wanted to soak in every moment of her hand in his. Besides, there was something about walking, about experiencing the world as normal men did that the vampire enjoyed from time to time. It was slow, but this moment with his Lorelle was nothing is not warm, more so than any other time he'd accompanied her to her home with her hand on his arm.

They encountered no one on the walk home, and rather than spend it in silence, the vampire recounted a tale of Rome, where he once spent some time escorting the Pope two centuries ago. He missed the statues and the wine and the dashing armor.

---

Arturo grew quiet as they nearer her home on the edge of town. When she held up her finger to her lips, he too held up a finger, but to her lips as well, not his own. He grinned, eyes sparkling with unsounded amusement. He closed the door softly, betraying a fine more control most mortal did not possess. This he reflected too in graceful steps, managing to avoid most of the creaking floorboards from only her lead to follow, lithe and stealthy as a black cat. One might consider it a special sort of witchcraft. He waited for her as she checked on her siblings.

Even in the dark, he could see the living room and kitchen space. The stacked up scrubbed plates, the spinning wheel in the corner, fabrics and furniture and toys and clothes making not a mess, but a well lived in home. It was intimate, seeing another's home. It made him long for a space of his own sometimes, but the feeling always passed. After leaving his sire, he had fought to break that desire to be close, struggled to take in the world and learn and see where and what he, Arturo Diaz de Frontera, wanted of the world. Even now, he knew if his sire called, he would answer. But short of that demand, he was his own man.

Lorelle's bedroom was even more personal. The dolls from her childhood made him wonder when she'd last played with them. Who gave them to her or if she made them. If she would give them to her sister. The nightgown was finer than he might have expected. Likely a gift from someone or perhaps a family heirloom she took comfort in. The bed was large enough for two, the room likely having been her parents until her mother passed. He wondered when she had last heard from her father. If he was alive, where he was fighting. But none of those things were topics of the moment. No, Lorelle herself, having opened herself entirely to him, stepped up to him once again. She was the topic of the moment.

Her demand made a few things clear. Her inexperience. Her desire. And her dominance. Perhaps not this time. But she knew what she wanted and needed only to know how to unlock it. "As my little mayflower commands." Arturo cupped her arm, blushing cheeks in his hands, leaning down to meet their lips once again, more passionately than before. He allowed the moment to linger, enjoying the taste of her lips and then running his tongue over hers to politely request to deepen the kiss. He backed her up slowly until they reached the bed. He yearned to rip her clothes off of her body, longed to see her exposed. But instead, he slipped the shawl from her shoulders, graceful fingers seeking out the ties for her skirt and corset and the layers of clothing she was wrapped in, taking his time to enjoy her taste and the course fabric under his fingers. "I want to show you so many things, Lorelle," he rumbled softly, pulling away to give her a moment to breathe.

Back then, or maybe especially in her family, sex wasn't talked about a lot. It was meant for reproduction, and women weren't really seen as creatures that enjoyed it. Of course they did, but it wasn't as easy to talk about to your friends as it is today. This meant that Lorelle didn't really know how to go about it, or what she was supposed to do. It made her feel vulnerable and small to have to ask Arturo, but she felt safe with him. The young woman felt as if he would show her without judgement. She blushed again when he responded. Had she been too commanding? Had it been wrong to ask? She didn't feel like he minded, judging by the fact he cupped her cheeks and kissed her again. She closed her eyes and kissed him back, her hands resting on his arms. His tongue on her lips caused her to open her eyes slightly for a moment, surprised by the feeling, but she then closed her eyes again and opened her mouth slightly to invite him in.

He led her to the bed, and gently removed the shawl from her shoulders before feeling around for the ties of her skirt and corset. She wouldn't stop him. He could untie them and take off her dress. She smiled against his lips and breathed in when he pulled back. "I want to learn, from you", she said, looking at him with her big, dark eyes. Now the ties were loose, she slowly started to remove the corset and skirt until she was standing there in her underwear, which was definitely not as sexy in the 1770s. She let herself fall back on the bed and grabbed his hand to pull him with her. After kissing him again, now she'd be the one to pull away for a moment to speak. "Bite me. Show me who you are." There was some fear in her eyes, but she was determined. She wasn't afraid of him but of the sensation of his fangs. Yet she wanted to feel it. "I want you the way that you are."

Arturo met her questioning look with a smile in his eyes. Her lips parted for him, and he hummed in desire and pleasure at being able to taste her more than he ever had before. It wasn't enough, but her warm lips around his, his tongue tangling with hers...perhaps it was not the more and all the way she envisioned but it was a first step to being vulnerable with each other, letting the other in.

Practically, the clothes of the time were not meant for easy removal. Some of that was by design, other times it was a limitation of the construction of the clothes. For Arturo, it was still just as much an exciting part of intimacy. He was in no rush. Each button and tie and clasp and fold of the fabric was one small step he took to get closer to the woman before him. Having her so exposed only made his need for her grow. For the vampire, intimacy was a complicated thing. It was his desire to enjoy someone. Sometimes that meant taste. Sometimes that meant sex. Often, it meant both and there was no separating one from the other. He loved her and could think of no greater display of trust and affection than to consume her blood and make love to her.

He wanted to teach Lore how to make love, but he was no teacher. He never had been. Especially when it came to his passions, Arturo was not a man of patience. He believed in learning by doing and sex was no different.

He followed her tug to the bed with a grin, straddling her waist for a moment, hands exploring the shape of her body. Her round breasts, her flat stomach and slim waist. The shape of her neck and tight muscles and ligaments of her throat. His hands glided over each part of her, basking in her warmth and her figure. As he moved further down the bed, her demand made him pause. "I want to," he confirmed, reaching up to cup her cheek again, thumb trailing over her soft lips. "But I want you to enjoy this as it is meant to be enjoyed first," he said. “I want to enjoy you as you were meant to be enjoyed.” Of course tasting her would make the moment sweeter, but without either of them knowing what she enjoyed, her kinks and pleasures, he didn’t wish to color her experience one way or another. Besides the consequences of draining even some of her blood. "But I adore your eagerness. I promise, if that’s what you desire, then I will,” he said with a smile, reaching a hand down to tease Lorelle over her undergarments.

[fade in]

It was a sweet torture, to be so close to someone he cared so deeply for, to watch Lorelle's chest heave up and down, to hear the pounding of her heart and see it in the pulse on throat. And to know this was but a small moment. A brief window of time where he could be so comfortable, where he could shrug off what he was. Only for his pleasure and hers to be quickly followed by a chaser of that gnawing hunger that he kept buried. but even more than that, it was the knowledge that he could spend her whole life here, and it would still be just a blip in the ocean. One he would treasure beyond the other grains of sand on the beach.

Arturo chuckled. He didn't blame her should she have thought him a back fuck. "Five hundred years does not make me an expert," he mused. He didn't need to say as much for her to know as much. "You were wonderful yourself," he added, letting her pull him close to bestow another kiss on her lips. Having caught his breath, he eased out of her, settling on his side and pulling her close to him. Arturo pressed his nose to her hair, breathing her in before moving to kiss her cheek. He leaned away briefly to reach behind him and pull a blanket around them, now that the more heated affairs of the evening were satisfied.

"It means a lot to me, to share this moment with you, Lorelle. You mean a lot to me." Perhaps that was a bit loaded, coming from a man who professed to be ancient by all accounts. But it was true. He wanted her to know that even outside the throes of their pleasure.