On this particular night I had decided to step inside a café. Not one of those trendy ones with surly employees and background music more suitable for night-clubs, but one with a warm and friendly, relaxed atmosphere that smelled of cinnamon. Just the kind I like. Sometimes I almost felt like one of them, sitting there and sharing that warmth. It was a soothing feeling but it always faded quickly. I am not of their kind, and I don't have much in common with most of my own kind, either. It's lonely. I didn't like it, but I didn't complain either. I'd gotten used to it.
I had a cup of tea in front of me (Darjeeling), and some type of vanilla tasting bun sprinkled with sticky sugar. I took small bites, carefully measured; I can eat if I want to, but I have to do it slowly and chew thoroughly, or else it just comes right back up. After all, my body is not used to solids. I had a book in my hand but I wasn't reading. Instead, I looked around at the people there, observing them and listening to their conversations. This is pastime I never tire of. Humans never cease to interest me. Perhaps they spark memories of the time I was human myself.
The café wasn't busy that night. In a corner was a trio of chatty girls with shopping bags drinking smoothies and comparing their finds, occasionally looking in my direction with whispers and giggles. A middle aged couple sat close to the window, comfortable small talk flowing between them. At the table next to mine was what looked like a young man, but I couldn't quite make out his face; he was hunched low over the table behind a stack of library books, deeply immersed in reading. Only two staffmembers were present at the moment: a young girl in a ponytail and an older, red-haired woman, casually talking while waiting for more customers. The reading young man suddenly sat upright, stretching. Glancing at him, my eyes met his.
He was just a boy, no different from normal human boys, but somehow he was still more beautiful than anyone I've ever seen. His hair was a shiny golden blonde, and his eyes were green like jade, innocent and expressive. A blush appeared on his heart shaped face when he looked at me, which I found so irresistible that I smiled at him. He smiled shyly back. Before I could stop myself, I opened my lips and a "hi" came out.
"Hi."
The boy's smile widened and he seemed pleased that I had spoken to him.
"What are you reading?"
"Uhm... 'David Copperfield'."
"You like Charles Dickens?"
He nodded enthusiastically.
"He's my favorite." He noticed the object in my hands. "What book is that?"
It was 'One flew over the cuckoo's nest'. I showed it to him.
"Oh!" he exclaimed interestedly and took it to look at the cover. "I haven't read this yet, I've only seen the movie." He handed it back. "Is the book as good as the movie?"
"Better," I said. "The movie is outstanding, but the book is definitely better. This is the third time I'm reading it."
I extended my hand.
"I'm Aidan."
"Toby."
When his hand took mine, I could feel a sensation inside me that I hadn't felt in ages. The sensation of butterflies in my stomach. It seemed as thought he felt the same, as he was blushing again. Reluctantly, I let go of his hand. We were both silent for a moment, and then I asked him about his other books.
Toby really loved books. Once he started talking about them, his forgot all about his shyness. I have always loved reading myself and it was a rare treat for me to sit there with Toby and discuss our favorites. Toby didn't talk much about himself. All he said was that he was eighteen and lived with his father.
At about nine o'clock, Toby sighed.
"I should go home."
As we took our things and left the café, I noticed Toby seemed very worried about something.
"I hope I haven't caused problems for you."
"No, no," he said shaking his head. "I'll be fine. It's no big deal. So..." he fidgeted a little. "It was nice meeting you."
I tried to force myself to just say goodbye and walk away, but it was useless.
"Can I see you again?"
His smile almost blinded me.
"Yes! I mean... I'd love to."
"Here, tomorrow at seven?"
"Okay."
After exchanging cell phone numbers, I took his hand and gave it a light squeeze.
"See you tomorrow, then."
"See you... Aidan."
We parted and went our separate ways, but I only walked a few feet before I turned around and began following Toby. I knew I shouldn't, but I had to make sure he got home safe. And there was something about his expression before that had made me worried. Toby was hurrying, sometimes almost running, and I followed swiftly and silently.
Toby lived three blocks away from the café in a rather boring apartment-building. I had placed myself in a shadowy corner and was looking at the windows wondering which one was Toby's, when I heard an angry voice drift through an open window on the second floor:
"If you don't watch it, I'll throw you out into the street like the useless sack of shit you are! You little punk!"
A door slammed, and Toby's tear-streaked face appeared in the window, closing it and lowering the blinds.
I stood motionless. Immense feelings of sadness and anger over what I had just witnessed were raging inside me like a violent storm. It took a long time for me to snap out of it. Finally, I shook myself and slowly began to make my way home, thinking of Toby's glowing smile at the café, and his pained expression just now.
"I swear... Somehow, I'll show him happiness," I thought to myself. "Whatever it takes."
When I got home, my apartment somehow seemed larger and colder than usual. I suddenly felt very tired. I went to the hallway mirror and studied the face that sadly looked back at me (yes, I do have a reflection). The hair was short, brown and thick; the eyes an unusually deep blue color. The skin was very pale, and the lips pink: classic vampire characteristics. I sighed, and took a glass of blood before going to bed. Toby never left my mind, and as I thought of an idea of something I could do for him to make him at least a little happier, I relaxed completely and drifted off to sleep.
******
I showed up at the café early. I was a little nervous, thinking Toby might not show up. I hadn't been nervous for more than fifty years. I waited outside, taking deep breaths of cold winter air. When finally I saw a smiling and waving Toby hurrying towards me, I felt a sense of relief so overwhelming that, as Toby came up to me, I embraced him without even thinking about it.
I heard Toby gasp softly, and then he just sort of melted into my arms and slipped his own around me. I held him close, savoring the moment and the sensation of his breath against my ear... his scent filling my nostrils. I suddenly became aware that I was becoming aroused, and reluctantly let go. I had planned to treat him to something inside the café, but now I wanted privacy with Toby.
"Would you like to come home with me? I have something I would like to give you. A gift."
He didn't speak, just smiled and nodded. I hailed a cab and we rode in silence. When we arrived at my home and I had paid the driver, Toby looked up at the old, impressive building with a gaping mouth.
"What is it you do for a living...?"
"Oh, I'm not working at all right now," I replied and Toby looked at me questioningly. "Old money," I shrugged. "Now and then I make some investments, otherwise I just do what I want."
I took his hand and led him inside taking the elevator to the top floor. As I opened the door to my apartment and let him in, Toby gasped.
"Whoa...!"
I was pretty certain that his admiration wasn't of the spacious apartment or the elegant yet comfortable, inviting furniture, but the many books on shelves and in bookcases all around the apartment.
"I have more books in here," I said and opened the door to a room. My apartment had four bedrooms. One I used myself and two were guest rooms (hardly ever used), but this one was completely filled with my books.
"Now I know what you do with all your spare time," Toby said and walked around looking at the books, fascinated. "This is... amazing."
"You can borrow as many as you like. But I have something special for you. Something I want you to have."
I took Toby to the living room and had him sit down on the couch. I took a book from one of the shelves and gave it to him, almost shivering with anticipation, hoping to see his wonderful smile again. But he didn't smile. His perfect mouth just fell open in shock.
"Oh God," he croaked. He traced the guilded letters on the cover with a small, trembling finger. "Oliver Twist..."
"First edition, in excellent condition," I said, sitting down next to him. Given to me by the author personally, no less, but needless to say, I kept that part to myself.
"I can't take this."
"Why?" I asked. I was starting to worry that maybe he'd gotten the wrong idea by this gift. "Don't you like it?"
"I love it. But... this is too much. I can't..."
"Toby..." I placed a hand on his shoulder and he tore his eyes away from the book in his hands. "You would make me very happy if you accepted it."
Finally, he smiled and a warm sensation spread throughout my body. I watched, both amused and moved when Toby reverently opened the book and lightly caressed the pages and even held it up to his nose, inhaling deeply.
"Old books have a very special smell that I've always loved." Carefully, he placed the book on the coffee table, his smile fading a little. "Could I... could I keep it here for a while? My father..." he sighed. "My father hates books but... well, he would know that this is valuable just by looking at it, and I'm afraid he might sell it if he found it."
I clenched my fist but kept my anger in control and reassured Toby that he could keep it here as long as he wanted.
"And, like I said, you can come over whenever you want to borrow books."
"Thank you, Aidan." He looked at me, glowing. "You're so kind to me."
I couldn't take it anymore. I put an arm around him and pulled him closer. I placed my hand on his neck, tracing his trembling lower lip with my thumb; the feeling his pulse under my palm fuelled my lust and I had to remind myself to be very careful with Toby. I lowered my head to his slowly, giving him an opportunity to resist, but instead he tilted head giving me better access. With a smile, I pressed my lips to his.
I lost myself in the kiss. All that mattered was the young man in my arms, the softness of his lips, his arms over my shoulders. His lips parted and I slipped my tongue inside, relishing the sweetness of his taste as I caressed his tongue with my own, coaxing it to dance, and as I did so a small "Mmm..." rose from Toby's throat, going straight to my groin. I lowered him onto the couch, placing myself between his legs. I moved my lips away from his lips and placed them on his throat, kissing and licking as my fingers quickly undid the buttons on his shirt. I longed to bite down and taste his blood; I could do it without causing pain, but it wouldn't be right. I contented myself with nibbling carefully at the skin, causing more enticing noises to spill from Toby's kiss-bruised lips.
I raised myself a little, looking down at the angel beneath me; shirt open revealing creamy white skin and pink nipples on his heaving chest, his eyes large and burning. He was so beautiful I ached. Hungrily I dove down and fastened my lips around his nipple, feeling it harden in my mouth. I could feel Toby's hands fastening in my hair.
"Aidan," he whispered huskily.
"Does it feel good?" I asked, my own voice just as husky.
"Yes..."
"I'll make it even better, my angel."
Returning to his nipples, switching between them to pleasure them with lips and tongue, my hands undid the button and zipper to his jeans. Reaching inside, my hand wrapped around his member, making Toby cry out and arch his back.
"Aah!"
"That's it," I whispered, stroking him rhythmically. "Let me hear you. Let me hear your pleasure."
"Ah... aah!"
