We Are Bulletproof

At the door, Adrian turned. Ivy looked unwell but the only cure was blood and for that, Adrian had to go out and hunt. He could have taken blood from the blood bank but once Ivy tasted human blood, it was difficult to 'make do' with animal. Best not to get him started down the wrong path, he thought.

"I'll be back soon," he repeated again reassuringly, cupping one of Ivy's cold cheeks. He told himself it was only to feel his temperature but he was lying; he only wanted to touch him again. Adrian felt himself leaning closer, though. A touch was so innocent, except that it prompted other, less innocent things. Like the kiss, a bare flutter of lips against Ivy's cheek.

"Thank you. You saved my life tonight." And Adrian would do everything within his power to preserve Ivy's. He smiled briefly, then turned to leave, before their proximity made it impossible to turn away.

"All right. I'll be back soon." He hated to leave a newly turned vampire alone but it had to be done. Adrian couldn't take Ivy with him--it would take twice as long and they might run into hunters. Hunters like... Adrian. He didn't think now was a good time to mention that, so he left well enough alone and straightened, gently extricating himself from Ivy.

As he turned, he spied a curious little face around a corner--a kitten, who hissed at him and promptly disappeared. Adrian smiled ruefully. "They've never seen a vampire before, have they? It takes them a while to get used to us." But eventually, he was sure, the animals would overcome their fright. Like anything, if treated with respect and kindness, they would soon respond in kind. (Although respect and cat sometimes didn't go hand-in-hand, simply based on the nature of the animal.)

"Keep the door locked while I'm gone, okay?"

"Of course. Of course there's a way," Adrian murmured by Ivy's temple, stroking his hair like a parent soothing a fretful child. A different kind of warmth was stealing over him, from the arms around him. Ivy needed him. He wasn't repulsed or angry and that was a little bit of a balm on Adrian's guilty soul.

His lips found their way to Ivy's temple, left a soft, tender kiss there. "I don't kill unless... unless it's necessary." Tonight being the notable exception, the break in routine. Adrian's arms slipped around Ivy's shoulders and he drew him closer.

"I promise, nothing else will die tonight. Not a human or an animal. I'll be careful." He eased his head back so that he could look Ivy in the eyes, to show him that he wasn't simply lying or saying things Ivy wanted to hear. "I promise. All right?"

"Ivy!" Alarmed, Adrian quickly rose with hands outstretched to catch Ivy, who righted himself before he toppled over. With worry creasing his brow, Adrian ran a gentle hand over his hair. "It doesn't have to be... human," he said quietly, grazing Ivy's temple with his fingertips, running them down to his jaw and under his chin to tilt his head up a little. Adrian looked into his tired, wan face and his heart ached. Poor, poor Ivy. What had he done to him?

"It's better to have a little, before the hunger makes you--turns you into a monster." And Adrian knew now, all too well, what that was like. Not even he could resist the temptation for blood, although... it didn't exactly help to have it dancing before him, offering itself (literally) to him. But it wasn't Ivy's fault and he attributed blame only to himself, and his own lack of foresight. If he hadn't tried to hold out for so long, none of this would have happened.

Slowly, Adrian bent towards him. He was irresistibly drawn to Ivy, to the point where even he thought that his actions bordered on obscene. This was definitely not within his normal range of behavior but how could he help it, when Ivy was so beautiful? It wasn't merely his physical attractiveness that drew Adrian in. His soul was beautiful; Adrian had a first-hand glimpse of that throughout the evening.

Tenderly, he pressed his lips to Ivy's forehead. "I'll find you something to help take the edge off. Nothing human," Adrian repeated, glad that Ivy was stubbornly trying to resist, to cling to his humanity. That would be important in the days to come, when his willpower and resolve would be sorely tested. But Adrian would be there, by his side, to help him through it, that was already a given.

Us. Ivy was already counting himself among the ranks of the undead and Adrian couldn't help the way that his hand stopped abruptly. He took in a deep breath. "Yes. If you believe. If you have faith."

Slowly, he reached over and slid his hand over Ivy's. His thumb gently stroked over the back of Ivy's hand. "I'll find a way." There had to be a way; Adrian couldn't afford to believe otherwise. His faith in God was the only thing that kept him human--that kept his mirror image still recognizable as being once human. After giving Ivy's hand a soft squeeze, he returned to cleaning up the table and the floor, where some tea had dripped.

"Are you... hungry?" Adrian was on the floor with paper towels, soaking up the spilled tea. He looked up at Ivy with concern creasing his brow. "Please let me know if you are. You shouldn't ignore it... Like I did."

"I will." There was a stronger note of resolve in his voice. Adrian held Ivy closer, more tightly, protectively. "I will save your soul." If it was the last thing that he did, he would save Ivy. It was his life's calling, to help those who couldn't help themselves, to save the poor, the lost and those led down the path of sin--even those who were so lost that they no longer believed they needed help for their damned souls.

Ivy wasn't beyond saving, though. Ivy was still pure and still capable of kindness. The consideration that he showed Adrian was proof positive of that. They just had to be careful, to ease Ivy into his new... lifestyle. Life still had to march on, and whether they wanted to or not, they had to march on with it.

Adrian closed his eyes briefly, resting his cheek against the side of Ivy's head briefly. "I will save you," he whispered again, softly, though firmly. Then he pulled back and found that he was able to smile again, albeit sadly, ruefully. 'I will protect you, Ivy." Adrian finally stepped back. He wasn't normally moved to spontaneous action in the heat of the moment--preferring to calmly assess the situation before acting--but he couldn't help the way that he felt or even acted. Ivy's actions moved him.

"Oh!" Only then realizing that a cup of tea had been spilt and was dripping onto the floor, Adrian scrambled to right the cup.

The chair clattered as Adrian rose to his feet abruptly. He had half a mind to run--to flee the scene of the crime, escaping Ivy's tenderness, his saintly ability to sympathize. Instead, Adrian reached for him and pulled him in. It was a jerky movement; their chests bumped together before Adrian brought him in close, cradling him as one would a delicate and precious newborn.

"I'm sorry." Those were the only words he seemed to be able to say; everything else was too difficult to force out between his ragged breaths. His contrition knew no bounds, but it wouldn't bring back Ivy's innocence. Feeling sorry couldn't make Ivy whole and human again. The only way to make up for what he did was to protect Ivy--if need be, from himself.

Even from a young age, Adrian had been responsible. Serious. His parents used to comment on how serious he was--like a little old man, they would say, laughing and smoothing down his hair fondly. They trusted him with everything, even the run of the house while they were away, despite the fact that Adrian wasn't even the oldest in the family. His siblings weren't irresponsible--they were like most kids their age--but he seemed to have been born with the shoulders to carry the weight of responsibility.

"I can help you... Please let me make up for this. I'm sorry, Ivy. I'm so sorry."

The tears that Adrian shed were not for himself; they weren't tears of self-pity.

He wept for Ivy, for his lost innocence and pure soul. He shed them knowing that what he had done was the gravest sin that any man could commit, that he had gone against God in doing what he did. He thought only of himself and of his own guilt when he turned Ivy, blinded by his own selfishness, by his cowardice.

And yet... even in his own darkest hour, Ivy still tried to comfort him. It made Adrian feel worse, that Ivy had rushed over to him, placing a gentle hand against his back, up against his neck. Adrian turned into him, blinded now by tears. His shaking, clumsy hands slid over Ivy's lovely face, cradling it like a precious treasure. "I'm so sorry," he choked, sweeping a thumb over one pale, cold cheek.

Once it must have been warm. Ivy's skin was fine and soft, his features noble in the radiant light of his compassion, but he felt so cold.

Adrian cradled the mug of steaming hot tea between his hands, staring down at the dark liquid in the cup. What happened indeed? He swallowed.

"Earlier... I took your blood," he began slowly, and softly. His eyes wouldn't lift. Couldn't lift up to Ivy's innocent, sweet face. Adrian drank some of the tea just to have something to do but tasted only the bitterness of his own actions.

"I took too much. It would have killed you and I... I couldn't..." He couldn't let Ivy die.

"I... turned you." Finally his eyes lifted, the emotion in them refusing to be hidden or stemmed. Adrian took in a shuddering breath as his eyes burned and he bit down so hard on his lower lip that it hurt. Apologies felt inadequate. I'm sorry could never be enough to make up for what he had done to Ivy. Words tumbled from his lips in a hurry, a babble of a confession.

"I.... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did and I know that I can never be forgiven. I don't deserve it but I hope that-that you will let me help you. I--" His voice faltered as the heat spilled over from behind his eyes, and he quickly hid his face in shame, shaking from the harrowing nature of his admission and almost shrinking into himself.

Adrian was sorry. He was more sorry about this than he had been about anything in his entire, miserable life.

"Thank you." He made his desperate escape from the kitchen, burning from shame and embarrassment. It didn't escape his notice that Ivy reacted to him. Ivy turned into his touch rather than away from it. Ivy's hand was on the way up into the air, as though to grasp on to him or to recall him. What Ivy felt was probably... some lingering effects from being charmed earlier. Adrian didn't dare to hope that Ivy felt the same way about him; that would be all too good to be true.

In the bathroom, he leaned against the sink with his head down. When he raised his head, his own image reflected back at him in the mirror. Those silly stories about vampires having no reflection in mirrors weren't true--nothing more than myth, stuff of tall tales. But the mirror, as they say, did not lie and the creature that looked back at him didn't look quite human. There were vestiges of humanity in there, but it was undeniable that a monster stared at him. At least... he wasn't completely lost. He could still make out something of his old human appearance. No doubt Ivy still saw himself as he was, completely human, earlier in the same mirror. He hadn't killed. He hadn't gone through what Adrian went through shortly after he was turned, and after his creator abandoned him.

Sighing, he put a hand to his face, knowing that the gnarled and dessicated hand with the dry, leathery skin stretched taut over knuckles and bones in the mirror was the same human one that he saw when he looked down. Adrian turned away from the mirror.

Sure enough, Ivy had left him a change of clothes on the towel rack and he changed into them while talking himself down from his panicked flight earlier. He shouldn't be so cowardly, he told himself. He shouldn't be shirking his duty. The truth had to come out eventually and he might as well get it over with, sooner rather than later.

Still, he loitered in the bathroom for a while before finally emerging, dressed in the warm and dry clothes that Ivy had left out for him. Adrian re-entered the kitchen with soft footsteps, standing in the doorway momentarily while Ivy's back was turned to him. He admired him, silently and secretly, before clearing his throat to announce his presence. "Thank you for the clothes... and the tea." Adrian saw the mugs steaming on the island. "Should we have a seat?" He reached to take both mugs, so that Ivy wouldn't have to carry them.

Every time that Ivy smiled at him, Adrian's heart gave a painful thump in response, until he couldn't help but avoid his face completely. Such an innocent and guileless smile shouldn't be directed at him. He felt like a monster, driven by hunger and base instinct to imperil an innocent, well-meaning bystander. All that Ivy wanted to do was to help him... and this was how Adrian repaid him.

"It's fine. Loose leaf is fine." Adrian's voice was a bare murmur. He turned back as he caught movement out of the corner of his eyes--just Ivy extending the tin to show him the tea. Anything would do, really. Their bodies no longer acquired warmth in the usual ways. Blood was the only way--fresh blood, warm blood--to briefly chase away the chill inside.

Slowly, almost against his will, his hand rose. He brushed away a damp strand of hair from the side of Ivy's face, drawn to him by the bond that had formed between them when they exchanged blood--Ivy's rushing through his veins, rejuvenating him and his own inside of Ivy's, poisoning him from the inside out. Adrian's fingertips trembled as they touched the side of Ivy's face, for nothing more than a second. But in that second his heart ached unbearably at the evil that he had committed.

Sharply, almost violently, Adrian pulled his hand down. "I'm sorry. I'll just go and dry off in the bathroom, if you don't mind." He took a step backwards and bumped into something--the table behind him. "I'll... be right back."

"Oh! I thought those were..." Actually he didn't know what they were, and he didn't want to touch them in case they were for some other purpose. Witches, for example, typically used dried herbs for potions. Or chefs used them for flavoring dishes. Adrian didn't want to take some of what he thought to be tea, only to discover he'd been steeping oregano or thyme in the pot all along.

He smiled at his own mistake and ducked his head. For all of his insistence that he could handle everything, he wasn't doing a very good job of it, was he?

"Do you have Oolong?" He moved forward and stood beside Ivy, inspecting the array of canisters. It appeared that he had quite the selection and Adrian studied the labels on them while steadfastly avoiding looking at Ivy.

Maybe it was impertinent, but... He really thought that Ivy was one of the most handsome men he had ever seen. Having never believed in the concept of love at first sight, Adrian didn't know what label to apply to the quickening of his pulse or the way that he felt towards a virtual stranger--albeit one who saved his life.

Guilt aside, he knew that he was attracted to Ivy but... it seemed inappropriate. Lurid, almost, because Ivy was now also his fledgling and his responsibility, not unlike a child. Adrian turned away, rubbing the side of his chilly arm with one hand. "After we make the tea... there's something I need to tell you, Ivy."

"Oh... no, I--" Adrian trailed off. He had so much to tell him. Ivy. Jude Iverson. It didn't take a genius to figure out where 'Ivy' came from, out of his name, and the plants were something of a dead giveaway. "I'm Adrian. Adrian Kwon," he offered, having a hard time looking Ivy in the eye.

Now seemed like the perfect time to talk about the vampire business but... He couldn't go through with it just yet. So instead, he said, a touch sheepishly, "I couldn't find the tea." As though on cue, the kettle began to hiss and whistle and Adrian turned quickly toward the kitchen to rescue the kettle from the stove.

"Ahh... maybe I wasn't looking in the right place..."

It took Adrian a while to find everything--the teapot, cups. But the tea bags. No tea bags. Adrian stood in the middle of the immaculate kitchen, completely stumped. Surely, he thought, surely this man drank tea. He agreed to tea earlier and said that he would prepare some but all Adrian saw were herbs and plants. Nothing that resembled tea.

After a long moment of utter confusion, he put some water to boil on the stove, laid the cups out and resigned himself to looking stupid. He was no magician; he couldn't conjure tea out of nowhere. But he could remove some of his sopping wet clothes, laying them out neatly folded by the door so that he could take them on the way out. That left him in damp pants and a simple white t-shirt, also damp. Adrian didn't feel quite as good but at least he wasn't soggy.

For a few moments, he stood in the middle of the living room and studied his surroundings. Evidently, this man loved plants. Plants everywhere, as far as the eye could see. Adrian went over to inspect some of them but he could place no name to them. Most were leafy. Some were twiggy. Others, distinctly flowery. Curiosity got the better of him and he bent to sniff one--and was immediately repulsed by the odor that assailed his senses.

He sneezed just as a voice called out, and then sneezed again and quickly backed away from the plant. It looked innocent but... good Lord, the smell was something else altogether. Yet, it only seemed to release its scent once Adrian got near. He couldn't smell it from a pace away. "I'm--" Another sneeze. "I'm here! In the living room."

"I'm much better... thanks to you."

Adrian moved forward as he spoke, reaching out to lightly grasp the man's wrist--the one upraised as he felt his neck. The bite mark was still there, two conspicuous holes, perfectly round and darkened with congealed blood at the edges. They were closing, but slowly. He would have to feed and to take in fresh blood in order for his body to completely repair itself.

But they weren't getting anywhere standing here arguing, and Adrian was, yes, stubborn in his own way. He peered into the man's eyes, holding his gaze. "You go first." It was more of a command this time, a directive aided by Adrian's powers of persuasion. He was older and more powerful (though his abilities paled in comparison to others', those who fed freely and grew powerful off of the blood of innocent humans). At the very least, he could talk this man into getting into the shower first and drying himself off.

"I will make tea." Adrian's lips curved briefly in a small smile. It was a strange thing to have someone be that adamant about taking care of him--a rare thing, but... nice. "Don't worry. Go."