Rebecca looked at Rhys from across the class. Curiosity glistened within her remarkably vibrant eyes, much like a tiger spotting it's prey from within the brush. Much to Rhys' own curiosity: Rebecca appeared to be in the peak of health. A far cry from what she was just yesterday, her skin glowed in all it's pinkish hues, the plumpness of her lips a satin red, and the curls of her hair writhed like voracious serpents in their loose curls as they flowed down her back. Rhys' couldn't help but stare in return.

He was relaxed, nonchalantly confident in that she wouldn't try anything like she had at 'Soft Beans' and therefore: he felt safe. Their surroundings were far too populated for her to try anything in a violent manner, although a certain tinge of his ego would like her to try. He was ready this time, and wouldn't mind a round two just to see whether he would do better.

Despite this, he couldn't help but notice the quickening of his heart as she approached. Rebecca didn't hold the same, preternatural, allure that she'd had for the passed three years. Instead what she had was an entirely natural charisma and the recognition she had earned which was more than enough to draw any attention she wanted.

"I need to talk to you" she said, her voice confident as if the answer couldn't be anything but yes, as she came to a stop in front of his table.

"Well go on then." Rhys gestured, sitting back comfortably in his chair with an incredulous smirk painted on his face.

"Not here. It's a privacy thing." Rebecca responded matter-of-factly. Her arms folded across her chest as she shifted her weight on to one leg and looked down at Rhys.

Rhys pondered for a moment, but in the end: his confidence got the better of him. Despite the voice at the back of his mind, screaming for him to at the very least tell one of his friends where he was going, he decided that he could handle this on his own.

Standing up, with the squeal of chair legs scraping against the floor: he began to follow Rebecca through the bustling hallways of the school. He remained a few feet from her as she easily manoeuvred the busy hall way, although did a double take as she entered into one of the girls bathrooms and his first thought was to question whether he should follow or not.

Rhys gave a quick look around to see if anyone was paying attention, before he pushed the door open and quickly darted inside. Feeling somewhat scandalised by being inside the girls bathroom despite the current situation.

But he was ready, already highly strung from a sleep filled with nightmares, there had been a moment where over-tiredness kicked in and he was brimming with energy. More than willing to test his training again.

Rebecca gave a few cursory looks to the four cubicles that were attached to the right wall of the small bathroom. Finding them vacant. The bathroom held it's own musk of bleach and various perfumes unable to escape without any form of ventilation. Circular, frosted, windows sat high into the wall; allowing the outside light to pour in generously, and falling into neat circles of white light that were periodically spaced along the floor. The murky yellow of the ceiling lights seemed to clash with the ambience, making the bathroom appear more dimly lit than it was.

Rhys crossed his arms with a strong stance as he studied Rebecca who came to a stop a few feet in front of him.

"Your blood... It did things to me." She said, looking to her hand with a knowing smile as she clenched and relaxed her fist.

"You're not a Vampire, Rebecca. No matter how much you want to be." Rhys scoffed as Rebecca's eyes returned to meet his with a pregnant electricity.

"I know that. But your blood Rhys... Fuck, I haven't felt this good in years. By the time I had left the coffee shop: the hurt had stopped Rhys. Everything wrong had stopped. Look." She said before lifting up her arm and gesturing to her otherwise unremarkable elbow.

"That's an elbow."

"Exactly! I've had a scar on there since I fell off my bike when I was five. But after that day? No more scar." Rebecca let her arm drop to her side.

Rhys frowned at the situation he was in. He was expecting a fight, or at the very least an apology. Not to be told that his blood had healing qualities. Rhys had always been able to heal things. Taking broken things and making them whole was what he did.

"What do you want Rebecca?" Rhys snapped, tensing ever so slightly as she stepped forward a little closer into his space. She grabbed his hand as if making to inspect it, and Rhys felt a small swell of pride when he was easily able to wrench it from her grasp. The realisation that Alaric's blood was not with her any longer made him all the more confident at the current situation.

He took a step on the back foot, while waiting for to make another move. For moment, all she did was look decidedly confused at her hand. As if it didn't work the way it should have.

"I don't suppose asking for another hit is possible, is it? Just like... Something I can carry with me in case I get hurt again." She asked in a coy manner, finally looking up from her hand to watch Rhys' reaction.

"You fucking stabbed me." Rhys laughed, "So that's a hard no and a fuck off on that one."

"Shame..." Rebecca sighed in defeat as she reached behind her back and procuring the same pocket knife from yesterday. She toyed with it in a pleasing manner. Playing with it's balance on her finger tips.

She grinned with devilish intent as Rhys expected: she lunged forward with the knife held high. But much to Rhys' surprise, she was not as strong or as fast as she once was. It was almost too easy to turn the blade away, as he snatched her at the wrist and gave it a sharp twist. Rebecca scowled in pain as the knife was sent clattering from her grip and spinning onto the floor. Before she could react further; Rhys twisted his back towards her, pulling her arm over his shoulder and using his hips as leverage, he flung Rebecca forward and into the far wall.

Not with enough force to do any serious damage, although it was a capability Rhys was suddenly aware he could do, but enough to get the message across that this was not going to be as easy as it was for her last time.

Her hair fell into a dishevelled mess in front of her face as she smacked against the hard wall with a grunt. Shock plastered Rebecca's face as her sudden fragility was made apparent. For three years she'd had the strength of an Olympic body builder. The speed of a racing car. She had been gifted with Alaric's blood, a small portion of his power, and now... Now she had never felt so mortal. She felt hollow, empty. Like another reminder of what had been taken from her.

Black streaks began to run down her cheeks, dropping to the floor as the tears crested her chin. Rhys felt a pang of sympathy weigh heavy in his chest as soft whimpers began to gurgle in the back of her throat. Rebecca used the wall to pull herself up onto stronger footing. As if fighting to prove the circumstance wrong, she steeled herself and in desperation she threw herself forward in another attack.

Rebecca's eyes seemed to widen as she stopped in her tracks. Her expression was one of either relief or fear, Rhys couldn't tell, but before he could register that she was not looking at him, but behind; through quivering lips she said:

"Alaric?"

Alaric stepped passed Rhys, his stride unbroken as he did nothing to acknowledge his friend. Rebecca immediately recoiled, her limbs beginning to shake as her heart began to beat fervently with panic. But before she could reach the wall behind her, Alaric was upon her. The calloused pads of his fingers hooking behind her neck as he crashed their lips together in a blinding display of need.

Rebecca moaned a burning desire into his mouth as Alaric's free hand fell neatly to the small of her back and pulled her body flush against his.

She relished the closeness, how their bodies fit together, causing her core to boil with a bubbling need that weakened her at the knees. Rebecca gasped in surprise as the hand previously at her back, cupped the other side of her jaw and he deepened the kiss. His tongue not hesitating as it stormed the gates of her mouth and explored with a wanton abandon that caused Rebecca to melt into a shiver as she hooked her arms around his neck, and carded her fingers through his hair before gripping a tight fistful.

For the first time in days she felt elated, happy, and still it was not enough as she attempted to cock her legs in a grip around his waist. An animalistic urge paying no mind to the other company present, she pleaded with her mouth for him to devour her in all the ways she knew he could.

The parting left her breathless, an unsatisfied hotness between her legs and a heavy blush to her cheeks. She leaned back against the wall, biting playfully at her finger as she arched her hips expectantly awaiting the ravishing that was to come.

Instead she felt the single index finger of Alaric's right hand as it bade her chin upwards to look into the roiling depths of his eyes. They were a cold, dark, gentle place, and there was a home for her there.

Rebecca's heart fluttered within her chest, her lips still glistening with the sweetened evidence of their exchange, and a core that was burning with a ravenous desire.

She lovingly extended her hand to caress the face of her lover, her chest leaping once more as Alaric held it within his strong grip, she pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth in anticipation.

Alaric's lips hovered torturous in their proximity to her own, his breath tickling at her nose before he spoke:

"In the coming agony of loneliness, May that kiss haunt you in the most exquisite of ways."

At the turning of his back, Rhys could swear he heard Rebecca's heart shatter into pieces.

As he stared, he watched as Rebecca was frozen save for one shaken hand softly grasping at the space Alaric had once inhabited, before bringing it to her chest while the other hand caressed her lips in a shaken manner, as if desperately trying to retrace Alaric's last kiss.

"Let's go." Alaric said darkly, as he once again passed by Rhys; but all Rhys could do was watch as Rebecca stared horrified and in shock at Alaric's retreating form. Like her heart had been ripped out beating, bloody, and crushed before being tossed before her. Rebecca's eyes glassed over quickly as the tears began to build and she clasped her hand tightly over her mouth as a sob escaped her chest. And it was in that moment that Rhys learned just how cruel Alaric could be.

"Well I slept like a log! All comfy in the moss and stuff" Lily preened happily, as she stretched her arms upwards, completely ignore the stack of five books that lay in a pile before her.

"You sleep like a log anywhere" Marshal responded with a groan, pushing his own book away from him.

Marshal, Lily, and Alice had joined together in the library in some vain attempt to find a link to Rhys' dream. They hadn't spent too long searching for books that had otherwise been abandoned. Evidenced by the thick layer of dust that had settled on each and every one of them. They had been tucked away on a top shelf in the corner somewhere, and crunched uneasily along the spine when opened. It was a shame, for they looked well made, with gold leaf imprint for titles.

But the moment Lily noticed that not a single one of them had pictures on the inside, she knew it was going to be an arduous and an incredibly boring task. Even Alice, who loved nothing more than to bury her head in a book, was finding it tough to stay focused. Although she was doing a far better job at it than Marshal and Lily were. Every other line she would have to go back and reread because it didn't register properly. But at least she was trying.

Attention was immediately called at the sound of clattering wood and scraping chair legs. The three looked up, with Marshal sprouting into a large blush at the sight of Mark recovering from having tripped on a set of chairs.

Lily, of course, giggled. Snorting as she hurriedly covered her mouth despite a quick elbow from Marshal, as Mark slowly made his way over. He kept his eyes averted, his cheeks reddened and evident from his bowed head as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"H-hey" Mark said, finally looking up with a smirk, and suddenly Marshal felt a strange tingling warmth all over. Like a sudden shiver, sprouting his skin in a wave of goosebumps all at the sight of this clumsy young man in front of him. The slight riding up of his t-shirt revealing a patch of skin that had no business being as enticing as Marshal found it. Marshal pulled his bag on to his lap.

"Hi, Mark!" Lily squealed, all too happy for the distraction from looking in dusty old books. "How's it going?"

"Oh, it's going just fine. I was wondering if I could talk to Marshal?" He asked sheepishly, proffering the question in Marshal's direction. He didn't want to seem rude, but ultimately: he was here to see one person, and one person only.

"Oh sure, go ahead!" Lily grinned, leaning forward and planting her chin in the palm of her hands as they balanced on her elbows. Her eyes glittering with an eagerness as they flitted between Mark and Marshal expectantly.

Marshal could not help but stare in shock at the girl. She was going to be the death of him, and he was quite sure that the means she would use; would be pure embarrassment.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff, grasping his bag and taking Mark by the hand, pulling him promptly away from the table.

"Come on, Mark." He said, sticking his tongue out briefly towards the now scowling Lily, as Mark gave an uneasy wave in the direction of the two girls.

He lead Mark to a more secluded area of the library. A far off corner in the right hand side where a number of outdated text books on mathematics and science were kept. It smelt of stale, old, paper, and the soapy scent of a long ignored air freshener that had gathered a small coat of blackened dust on the inside.

The Library itself wasn't particularly large for a high school library. But the lone librarian Mrs Wicket was practically a geriatric, so being keen with a duster wasn't high on the list of her priorities.

Marshal only briefly realised that he was holding the hand of, and pulling along, another boy. He whipped around and before he the apology could get half way passed his lips, Marks own was pushed against them. Snuffing out the words he had started and beckoning a whole new string of sounds that rumbled from the back of Marshals throat.

Marks right hand cupped Marshals jaw, his fingers hooking the back of his neck where the contact splintered forks of pleasing static down Marshals spine. His other hand gripped Marshal's waist, guiding him backwards until he was pushed against the wall and there was no further retreat.

Fire burned within, smouldering and sparking with glittering ignition with every touch. Roaring higher as Mark swiped his tongue over the lower lip of Marshal before deepening the kiss further and encroaching himself closer in a ravenous bid for that hungry, desperate, contact.

Marshals hands fisted in Marks T-shirt. Pulling him as close as possible, suddenly all thoughts of decency seemed to be like comprehending a foreign language without reference. Marshals legs parted slightly, his hips arching lightly as he returned the push against Mark.

Clothes seemed entirely too much, too constricting, almost suffocating, and Marshal wished more than anything to be free of them. They gyrated against one another, frotting against each other in a contact that was deliciously consuming but agonisingly falling short of what they wanted. The few centimetres of cloth stretching like an unfathomably fair chasm. A painful tease that manifested in a strained ache of the groin.

Mark separated, breathlessly resting his forehead against Marshal who smiled with his eyes closed, as if lost in the most blissful of dreams.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" Marshal croaked with a laugh, clearing his throat. Mark laughed in return, somehow finding the strength to pry himself away from Marshal. For a brief moment he had entirely forgotten what it was he wanted to talk about. His mind drew a blank as he looked to the quite literally: breath taking young man before him. The gentle outside light from the window, cascading its beams on the pale blonde hair that seemed to glow in response. His soft cheeks that hummed with the redness that he had caused, mimicking the glistening colour of his soft lips that Mark suddenly found himself enraptured with.

He shook himself back into focus

"I actually wanted to talk about arranging our second date" he said with a laugh, stepping closer. His voice dropped, becoming low and husky as he took Marshal by the hand and held it close to the fervent beating of his chest. He felt like his heart was trying to beat its way from his ribcage, and he could feel Marshals own quickened pulse through his finger tips as they were splayed against the taught musculature of his chest. Agonisingly separated by the millimetres thin fabric of his shirt, he would give anything for skin on skin contact, and seriously debated shoving Marshals hand underneath his own shirt just for the sake of it.

"But- fuck- I don't think I can wait for the whole three date minimum thing." He said, nerves biting deep at his sudden forwardness.

Marshal closed the distance further, bending his arm so he was as close to Mark as he possibly could and rested his forehead against his.

"I don't think I can wait much later either." Marshal whispered, biting his lip in response to his own nerves as if he had been the one to be so forward. His arousal strained against his clothes, and he couldn't be sure if it was the sheer rampant lust that was talking or if it was something deeper. Their contact had been brief in the scope of things, but nobody had ever touched Marshal the way Mark had. Made him feel so weak and yet so full of energy the way Mark does. Perhaps it was Marshals own inexperience that caused him to be so eager. Or maybe it was something genuine: Marshal didn't know. But for now, he was more than willing to find out.

"Did you wanna get away together? My original plan was to get out of town, maybe go to the beach or something. Get a hotel room, the whole nine yards." Mark asked, and Marshal immediately seized at the lump that had formed in his throat.

"I-I can't. I can't leave Willowstream. I'm sorry." Marshal responded. For the first time, it wasn't just fear of the ocean that kept him from running away to the beach with someone who he was more than willing to follow. Fuck, if Mark asked him to jump off a bridge: Marshal was almost sure he wouldn't of been able to turn him down. But this time was different. To leave would to put his friends in danger. He wasn't as capable as Alice, he couldn't heal like Rhys. He wasn't as seemingly indestructible as Lily, or a terrifying creature of the night like Alaric. But if something happened to them without him here, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. They were stronger together. Safer.

"Hey, that's okay. They have hotels here too!" Mark said cheerfully, immediately snatching Marshal away from the pit of self despair he had suddenly began to sink into, and bringing him out into a bright smile. "We can make it a whole thing. I'll take you out to dinner and then we can go back to the hotel and... uh... finish?"

The last part caused Marshal to break out into a bout of laughter, causing Mark to shove at him with embarrassment.

"Okay." He finally said, beaming his smile in Marks direction.

"Great! Then it's date."

"I wonder if they're making out" Lily sighed, still resting her chin in her hand as she looked to the direction the two boys had run off to. As she had been doing for the passed five minutes.

"They are." Alice said bluntly, refusing to look up from her book as she pushed her reading glasses back up her slender nose.

"You can hear them?"

"Worse. I can hear squishing and stuff." Alice cringed, crinkling her nose, and not for the last time: cursing her sensitive ears.

A/N: And to make up for the short chapter before, have a super long one instead! This one is a little... Saucier I guess?
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

And as always: thank you for reading! ^-^