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Frank was never one to care much about her skin— lips, to be exact. It usually had to do with sensory issues, how the chapstick would mix in with whatever beverage she was drinking, and how it would blanket her lips.
She had an unfortunately bad habit of biting her lips often, the skin peeling off like velcro. It would usually draw blood if she bit at the wrong angle, resulting in that familiar metallic taste on her tongue.
Frank sits there, perched on her bed, the dorm room of her and Illi so silent they could hear the chatter of their classmates outside. She unconsciously bit her lips in thought, already peeling off the dry skin and chewing it.
As her teeth tore at her skin, she could feel the eyes of Illi bore into her. She paused the lip-biting, a familiar metallic taste filling her mouth already as she glanced back at the ravenette from the other side of the room.
She knew Illi to be a vampire, which wasn’t much of a secret, since the school they attended was full of all kinds of creatures of the night. Frank, in this instance, was a witch. It wasn’t a surprise that Illi was attracted, due to how magnetic most witches were.
“...You got a little something on your lips.” Illi peered, her eyes nervously darting at the blood.
Frank shook her head, breaking out of thought. She felt the sting, pursing her lips to relieve the pain, as a concerningly large amount of blood pooled out. “Oh…” She rose up off her bed, aiming for the bathroom.
Illi internally panicked as she watched Frank get up. “W… wait.” She broke the bit of silence, slowly ascending from her own bed. She seemed, if not, a little nervous.
Frank spun around, tilting her head.
Illi fiddled with the hems of her shirt, gazing at the hardwood floor beneath them. “I… I haven’t had blood in a while… can I…?” She stammered, nearly shrinking in her uniform.
Frank’s stomach started doing somersaults, as the crimson red continued pooling all over her bottom lip. She thought about it for a minute, and slowly nodded, her gaze never leaving Illi’s frame. “Of course… yes.” She simply replied, if not showing a bit of embarrassment.
Illi’s cheeks grew cherry-blossom pink, in contrast to her pale complexion and black hair. She slowly nodded, ambling towards the bleeding girl, as if not wanting to scare her away. She towered over her, eyes darkening at the sight of the blood. “I hope this isn’t too uncomfortable.” Her head trembled as their faces were so close, they could feel each other’s breath.
“It’s… it’s okay. I kind of wanted to kiss you anyway.” Frank tried to make that sound like a joke, eyes averted as she felt like she’d regret saying that in ten years. She wasn’t lying, she did want to kiss that girl and her soft cherry lips. And she didn’t even know if Illi was always this nervous with everyone, or if it was just with her.
Illi felt her face heat up at Frank’s words, the scent of her blood making her dizzy. “H… ha. Okay.” She breathed, slowly moving her face into Frank’s. Her tongue traced over her bottom lip, the sweet taste of blood hitting her taste-buds. She gently brought her hand at the back of Frank’s head, soft hair brushing against her skin.
Frank couldn’t help but shiver under this contact, how Illi’s tongue was gentle against her lips to sooth the cut. Everything about Illi was comforting, gentle, and romantic…
Illi continued to swallow the blood, feeling it flow smooth down her throat like a waterfall. It was a delicacy, tasting a witch’s blood like this. A witch’s blood is the sweetest and most enchanting, so she’s heard. That was true. She felt dazed at the contact, too. The feeling of their skin and bodies close together, feeling each other’s warmth.
She started to brave the contact, relishing every last bit of the feeling of Frank’s skin and, dare she say it, ichor. She always saw Frank as a sort of goddess, despite her attire being more masculine, it was more of the way she casted spells.
Frank could say the same thing about Illi. She always admired vampires, how they dance in the moonlight with rose petals and their vantablack hair falling into place. But mostly because Illi was a different kind of vampire. Shy, and not wanting to pierce anyone’s neck with her fangs. She felt butterflies in her stomach, knowing that this one vampire would never hurt her.
As Illi continued to taste the crimson red, she could feel Frank shiver, probably due to the cuts. Her hand came up to the bleeding-girl’s cheek, lightly brushing it in a comforting way. Her worst fear was injuring anyone drastically as she’d drink blood, so she had to be soft. Especially towards Frank…
Frank could feel it in the air, the hunger that filled Illi as her tongue lapped at her bleeding bottom lip. She admitted, it was a little… intimate. A little? Yeah. Practically letting your roommate kiss you was a little intimate.
Illi licked the last bit of blood off of Frank’s cracked lip, then traced her tongue over the cuts to heal. She slowly pulled away, a thin string of red connecting their lips. Her breath hitched as she swallowed the last bit of blood, tongue greedily searching in the crevices of her teeth for more. She paused, and started blinking rapidly, returning to her timid grounds.
Frank could feel the wound on her lip immediately heal, wiping her slobbered lips with a thumb as her heart practically pounded out her chest. She felt weak beneath Illi’s touch, like she could just lay on her and sleep.
Illi looked around, anywhere but Frank’s eyes. “I’m— I’m sorry…” Her voice was hushed and worried.
Frank felt her lips twitch up, trying to contain a giggle. She hesitated, before bringing a hand up to cup Illi’s face. “It’s okay, Illi. You haven’t fed in awhile. You should’ve told me sooner…”
Illi whined as she leaned her face into the hand further, making her cheek squish slightly. “I’ll make it up to you. We could have dinner… or do whatever you want.”
Frank’s eyes lit up at the idea. “A date…?”
Illi bashfully grinned, practically sweating bullets as she gained more courage. Her hands trembled as they awkwardly went behind Frank’s back. “M… yeah. Yes.” She shut her eyes tight, worrying about the possibilities of rejection.
Frank leaned in to kiss Illi’s cheek, feeling how soft it felt against her lips, and the faint cherry scent. She pulled away, a smile formed on her face as she wrapped her arms around the taller girl.
Illi felt her breath falter, limbs like jelly. A glint in her eyes. Her lips formed an awkward smile, as she went down to bury her face in the crook of Frank’s neck, taking in every scent of sage and bay leaves attached to the girl like a natural perfume. She could feel her pulse beat faster against her face, the cacophony of rushing blood.
“So, when is this fabled date?” Frank swayed left and right, a hand running through Illi’s fluffy hair.
Illi followed the motions of Frank, as if they were creating a horrible slow-dance. For a moment, all problems had gone away. The taste of Frank’s blood was the least of her worries. “...Whenever you want.”