The onset took me by surprise. One second, I was eyeing the velvet-covered door, and the other, I was chugging down a whole glass of water, edges of my vision beginning to blur and a giddy, warm feeling ticked instead of my heartbeat.

The club around me turned soft and liquid. Music glided across my skin, poignant and warm, like syrup, or caramel, or water sliding over a submerged rock. Cherry's blonde hair waved around her and the sweat on her skin shimmered under the reflector lights. Everything about her flowed; hair, dress, skin. She turned into a wave, her movements predictable, clear, and strong. I moved with her, wanting to mimic her dance. I found falling into her rhythm comforting and comfortable. Something about it caressed my brain.

When her hand slid into mine and she took me back to the red lounges, I wanted her to be my best friend. I missed a best friend. Elena used to be that to me, but Elena was gone, and there was no one else. Lucia couldn't be my best friend, because I needed to take care of her.

When two very handsome vampires wanted to join us in our booth, we laughed like we had an inside joke. Both were pale and dark, but their smiles were gentle and friendly. The taller, leaner one wanted to bite Cherry, but she shook her head and planted a full kiss on his lips instead.

It felt hard being her best friend as I watched someone who wasn't Dorian stick his tongue down her throat.

When he pulled down the thin red strap of her dress and exposed her soft milky boob, I forgot about her boyfriend. The vampire took her nipple into his mouth and bit lightly. Waves of pleasure rippled through my body like I was the one being kissed. I suddenly understood why the music in Dorian's clubs always pumped a seductive, sensual tune. It hit the right spot with each beat, almost like the music itself wanted to make me come.

The other guy, the shorter, but bulkier and still taller than me, was behind me, trying to move in the same rhythm. Cherry's wide eyes met mine, and there was such clarity and understanding in those murky depths that I stepped away from the vampire behind me. She did the same – no explanations or excuses, and pulled the strap back up.

"Don't worry." She crashed into me, her body gluing to mine. "Dorian doesn't mind."

I believed her. Honesty circled her entire frame like a lit halo.

"Why?" I asked, my fingers intertwining with hers, like the touch might give me more insight into her mind.

"He doesn't believe in monogamy." She leaned forward, exposing her neck to me.

More. My body whispered. More of her blood, more of the drug, more of her touch. Completely forgetting about the two vampires around us, I planted my lips against her neck and licked her skin.

She tasted like cherries and smelled like them too. Her hair was silky smooth and her skin milky. Her fingers felt warm intertwined with mine. My fangs slid into her skin, and the first contact with her blood made me dizzy. I only took a sip, some clarity returning to my head.

Her smile made me want to lean back into the feelings, but I kept my head above water and glanced around, realising we were surrounded by people in the booth. Men stared at us, sharing a whisper here and there, and the women averted their gazes, their curled lips snide.

"How are you okay with it?" I asked, even though the moment I looked back at her, she was pulling me into the high.

Like a wave, hitting the shore and dragging the pieces of sand with it to the depths.

"With what?" Cherry murmured, her tiny hands grabbing both my forearms and dragging me closer to her.

Desire burst through me. Hers or mine, I didn't know. But the moment she leaned against my body, I was a goner.

Fuck. Clarity slammed into me.

Was I about to sleep with Cherry?

"Him wanting to share you." I whispered in her ear, two puncture wounds an inch away from my mouth, her plump lips leaning against my cheek. "You sharing him."

Our hips swayed in the rhythm, and whenever the beat changed, her leg slid between mine, caressing the inner side of my thigh. I could feel the need pumping through her. I saw the red hot desire surrounding her. I moved away slightly, even though it felt like the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and watched her large eyes jump to the dancefloor below us.

"He's not mine to share."

I followed her gaze until I noticed Dorian in the middle of the crowd. He was dancing with a girl, his hand sliding up and down her back. Sweat gleamed on his forehead and his black shirt was unbuttoned. The silver strands of his hair were wet, a couple of them fell over his dark blue eyes. As if sensing my eyes on him, he looked up.

"You're allowed to want him." Cherry's whisper reached my ears, and the sentence was enough to pull me right back into the high and drown me.

"No." My heart thudded in my mouth, the beating becoming quicker when Dorian left the girl on the dancefloor and headed towards us. "I'm not. I'm-"

I couldn't finish the sentence, but there was no need. Cherry squeezed my upper arm like she understood me perfectly.

"You wouldn't be betraying her." She whispered. "She'd understand."

"You don't-" Fear and panic and sorrow filled my heart to the brim. "You have no idea."

But she knew. I felt it all around her; understanding, wisdom, empathy.

Dorian pushed through the crowd. Each step he took felt like a stab in my gut. Desire coiled around him, tangible and visible and opaque. The need to voice my soul overwhelmed me.

"I loved him." I admitted, unable to stop my tongue.

"I know." Cherry's touch felt light on the small of my back. "You're allowed to love him still."

The conversation stopped when Dorian stepped into the booth. With one look around, everyone scurried away. He didn't waste a second. His hands reached around both me and Cherry, and he led us away, into the lounges hidden behind the curtains. He reeked of chaos. Everything around him shook, his entire aura threatened to fall into pieces, and I found myself wanting to soothe that rage inside him.

"Dorian." I murmured, lifting my gaze. "Dorian, it's okay."

A sheen of sweat covered his forehead, his jaw remained tense, either due to drugs or something else, and he pursed his lips slightly before glancing at me. His irises were fucking gone. The sight pulled me out of my high for one clear second. His eyes were two black pits with a thin dark blue line in the outer corners of his irises.

He moved us away from the crowd.

A barrier snapped between us.

Something irrational coursed through me; a feeling that we'd both get lost in this overwhelming darkness, and that we needed to hold onto each other, if for no other reason, then to feel less lonely in the void.

"Dorian." I called his name, my hand sweaty in his big palm. "I feel weird."

He stood in front of me. His eyes were dark and devouring, and empty. So fucking empty. I saw more than I wanted to see – the pain, the anger, the desperation. A cloud of nothingness surrounded him. How was he alive? How did he live and breathe?

"Odette, you're having a bad trip." He spoke, but his jaw wouldn't listen to his tongue. "You need to ride it out."

My legs moved on their own, or he dragged me to the lounges, and I was suddenly sitting. Cherry was nowhere to be found and the music pounding in my ears now felt emotionless, mechanic. There was something here with us. A monster of sorts. We let it in when we let our guards down. But Dorian sat next to me. There was nothing in me to rebel against his hands around my shoulders, holding me tightly, keeping me away from the monster. The more time passed, the clearer the monster became, and after a while, I knew exactly what it was.

The truth snuck up on me, and it didn't care whether I wanted to face it.

The Club had emptied at some point, and Dorian and I remained alone in the huge space. He sat opposite off me when he realised I was sober enough to function. He just stared and stared at me, while the faint music in the background played on like the night would last forever.

"You should have been with Elena that night."

Dorian's expression remained neutral, but I could still feel the faint energy around him; murky, tired, sad. My heart stayed steady. I was ready. Drunk, drugged and destructive, I was ready to admit everything.

"I couldn't have been with Elena that night." Dorian said, and the only sign of emotion was his sudden grip of the edge of the velvet red sofa. "I was with you."

"But, it should have been Elena." I pushed.

"I know." Dorian nodded. "I know it should have been her. I know I was supposed to marry her-"

Don't marry her. Marry me.

He took in a sharp breath, "My duty to her should have guided me. But I was young and dumb, and I didn't follow my duty, I followed my heart. So, yes, it should have been Elena, but it couldn't have been her. Because in every scenario, every alternate timeline, and in every single lifetime, I'm in that room with you."

Just like that, tears slid down my cheeks.

An impossibly strong wave of dark sorrow washed over me. Everything I've kept buried inside me just broke through; all the anger, and regret, and resentment.

"It's all my fault." I cried out, "I- I knew she loved you. And I still-"

"It's not your fault." Dorian said, making me realise there was no stopping now. "I should have been smarter."

Silence ruled the room for a few seconds as I gathered courage to say what I was about to say. Admitting it to myself and to Dorian felt like exposing my entire soul; every awful thought, every selfish deed, all the mistakes. But I had to admit it, because I needed to get some fucking sleep.

"I'm not sorry I kissed you."

Dorian's gaze jumped up so quickly that for a second all of his facades crumbled and I saw everything clearly.

"And it's fucking killing me." I continued, "Because I know that Elena hates me, and that's why I can't sleep."

I hated myself for what I'd done that night. I hated myself for being the way I was, for making Elena feel like she wasn't enough, for betraying her even though I knew how she felt.

"At least you have a valid reason for not being able to sleep." Dorian was still staring at me, his eyes hazy and wide. "Whenever I close my eyes, I'm shaken awake by the sound of a thunder strike. It echoes your footsteps, walking away from me. It's the night you told me your family wouldn't be taking me in, remember? Remember the rain?"

It was the drug. Empathy still coursed through us even though the morning hangover slowly began to creep up from behind. We existed in that weird stage of drunk, where honesty ruled because we were too tired to lie, to pretend. I remembered the rain, and the thunder, and how I wished it would wash away my footsteps.

"It's dawning." I said. "Time for us to sleep."

"Hah." The chuckle he let out was the most human thing I've ever seen him do. "Good luck."

As I stood up, still wobbly on my feet and my head beginning to pound like a bitch, I realised I might actually sleep tonight. Something felt calm between us, settled, resolved.

I took my heels in my hand, not even caring about the glass on the floor, and headed for the door.

It would be a light sleep though. Anger wouldn't bother me tonight, and I could probably sleep through regret, but what was I supposed to do about the longing?

"Ette."

Or, would he take the longing away from me too?

I faced him. From afar and through a sober mind, he looked like a mess. The silver strands of his hair dropped over his dark, still dilated, eyes. His shirt was unbuttoned, his black pants full of cigarette ash, and his belt half-unclasped. Something darkly sweet sparked in his eyes when he stood in front of me.

He spread out his hand and touched my fingers. A hurricane of emotions swirled inside me, awakening every tired cell in my body. Everything sprung into action; heart, brain and body. His thumb caressed the back of my hand, and I caught his gaze. It was the colour of his eyes, the colour of dusk, the colour of the sky moments before night devoured the world. The colour of his eyes made me want to kiss him then. And it made me want to kiss him now.

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted us.