Chapter Twenty | Behind His Façade

Allowing Karou to watch him feed had been her first insight into his Vampirism. It was significant that she'd also seen how and from whom he harvested it, but both were so sterile and civilised compared to how he'd growled at her. Karou had seen a glimpse of the feral creature bloodlust could turn him into; it might as well have been him standing at the bathroom door naked. Maybe, at last, she was reacting how she ought to—she looked frightened. A quandary arose because Warren wasn't sure he wanted her to.

For the rest of the day, Warren worked. He needed to refocus his mind on something less stressful. Ironically, work was the perfect mediator since living with Karou was becoming more complicated.

That night, he hadn't dared leave this office. He missed his scotch and relaxation time. He waited until Karou had gone to bed to sneak past her room and get some sleep, but his night wasn't restful. When his alarm sounded, he groaned into his pillow. Ugh, I really don't want to get up.

In the next room, Karou heard Warren's alarm, too, and stirred like usual. However, when she heard the second noise coming from the bedroom, she chuckled—Karou knew the sound of someone unwilling to get out of bed.

Quietly sneaking past his room to the bathroom was easy, but on her return, Warren called out to her. "Karou."

"Uh, yeah?"

"Are you outside my door?"

"Mhmm, I just went to the bathroom."

"Come in here?"

Karou edged nearer and peeped inside. It was dark with the black-out blinds down over the unit's only windows, she could barely see his outline in the sheets. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's… fine. I have something to ask you." Warren flicked on his bedside lamp and propped himself up against the headboard.

"Is it why am I up so early on a Saturday morning?" Karou asked gingerly, entering the room to stand at the foot of the bed. "Because what's weirder is that you're not at work yet..."

"Yes, that is weird, but I'm considering giving myself a day off; I worked late yesterday."

"Hmm, I know. You didn't leave your office until after I'd gone to bed." Karou nodded and looked at the floor with a close-lipped smile; she'd figured he was avoiding her.

"Karou, do I frighten you?" Warren asked, straight to the point.

"What? No! Of course not. I told you before..." Taken aback by his question, instinctively, her limbs shifted, inclined to climb onto his bed to comfort and dissuade his idea that he was frightening. In a second, she thought better of it; it would've been too familiar. Embarrassingly, though, her movement had made her intention obvious—a vivid blush spread her cheeks when she looked at Warren apologetically.

"You can sit down if you want." He allowed with a passive 'almost-smile' that steadied Karou's nerves. Rearranging a pillow, he created space for Karou to sit near him. "Yesterday, at the bathroom door, I didn't frighten you?"

"Uh– No. I mean, I've never been growled at by a person before, but…" Karou explained as she crawled up the bed to sit cross-legged beside him.

"You looked shocked. I thought I might've scared you."

"Well, you looked like you were gonna burst in and make a snack outta me, but that wasn't what... I mean, what it was is… I was naked." Picking at her fingernails like she did when she was feeling anxious, Karou stared down into her lap, recalling the look on his face and how it had made her neck feel red hot, imagining him there.

"You looked scared because I'd wind up seeing you naked?" Warren asked in disbelief. He was certain that being seen naked was worse than being exsanguinated.

"Yeah, exactly." Karou nodded, but Warren still looked perplexed, so she decided to jog his memory. "It was the same morning we woke up, y'know, how we did..." Karou was careful not to say cuddling in case it somehow bothered him. "Anyway, you couldn't remember if anything had happened and said if it had, it would've been a 'terrible mistake'... and that it was 'ridiculous' to think that anything like that could've happened." Karou's eyes remained trained downward as she rambled. Warren had noticed that when her self-esteem was low, she would try and shrink herself physically; right now, she sat with her shoulders hunched, her eyes far from his. He'd recognised he often made her act that way.

"My words stuck with you?"

"Sometimes… When they hurt, they do. I don't know why. Nobody's ever done any different; don't know why you should be any different."

"What do you mean by 'nobody's ever done any different'?" Now that he was asking deep and prying questions, Warren angled toward her. "Karou, you've asked me to look at you when I'm talking to you, so would you extend that courtesy? Look at me."

"Nobody's ever wanted to be more than friends with me." Seeing as he'd asked, she'd looked at him, but she looked back at her hands when he did that thing with his eyebrows. He looked so handsome, and she couldn't bear to blush so blatantly when their eyes met. Warren had only furrowed his brow in confusion. The hefty sigh he exhaled almost made her wince. She knew what big sighs meant.

"We've been here before. I'll tell you again what I told you then. You wouldn't notice even if someone did. You haven't been on any more dates with Katou—"

"Kenichi? Ha—to tell you the truth, I don't know what's going on with him and Juniper, but I don't think he was ever that into me. I don't want to think so little of him, but I wonder whether he went on that date with me hoping to make her jealous."

"That's Demons for you… You know, you blew off that Elemental boy right in front of me, too."

"Pft, Ebon doesn't need a girlfriend; he's already in love with himself. I heard him talking behind my back; apparently, his only fascination with me is that I'm Mortal," Karou grumbled. "He was curious to see how easy I'd be to control."

"Hmph, he'd only have to live with you for a day to know you are practically impossible to control." Warren scoffed.

Karou forced a smile; his 'almost' compliment lifted her mood slightly. Humming in acceptance that this was as close as she'd be allowed, she let the silence linger to savour it.

Breaking their silence, he asked, "You're still hung up on being sired, aren't you?" Trying not to roll his eyes.

"Every time I talk about it, you get angry." Karou stopped picking at her fingers but still needed something to soothe her anxiety. Consequently, she pulled her hair over one shoulder and braided the dark brown strands together. With her hair out of the way, he could stare at her neck.

You're toying with me again, and you don't even know it," he thought as he said, "You ask me for things I can't give you, Karou."

"Like kisses?" Now her gun-metal blue eyes homed in on him, wide, beautiful, and glistening with her feelings.

Whenever she looked at him that way, something shifted inside, pulling him toward her. Resisting her magnetism, he drew a deep breath, only to be taunted by her scent. Choking back a thirsty growl put gravel in his voice when he asked, "Wasn't one enough to put you off?"

"There were two actually, but… No."

"Karou, you make living with you so hard sometimes." Falling back into his pillows, Warren ran his hands back through his hair with a defeated groan.

"Well, you don't care about hurting my feelings, so if the thought of doing it again is too gross to consider, you should just tell me."

"I never intend to hurt your feelings. I try not to lie to you. But mostly, I try to keep you safe, and navigating what I'm supposed to say and do while keeping both of those things in mind is a fucking minefield." Dragging his hands from his face, his brows arranged on his face in a way she'd never seen only once before. "Did anything about how I kissed you make you think it repulsed me?"

Karou could see that she had pushed him too far. He wasn't angry, but he was undoubtedly annoyed. In a last-ditch attempt not to fight, she tried to lighten the mood and grinned at him, hoping that she could make amends. She joked, "I wouldn't know, would I? I'm not an expert."

Later, when she tried to recall it, it would blur into flashes of moments without context or chronology. She wasn't sure how it happened. One second, she was sitting, grinning at him, and the next, she found herself splayed in the bank of bed pillows with Warren's face looming over her. Their eyes locked. Warren's were nearer, Columbian blue, than thirsty Onyx, so what he did next wasn't down to bloodlust.

Karou lost the attention of his eyes when he watched her lips tremble beneath his fingertips. He mumbled something, but the audio of her memory had lost the words. The trail his fingers traced over her cheek and jaw tingled in his wake until he combed her hair back and cupped the side of her face. The image of his face flickered away when she closed her eyes to savour those tender sensations. How can such a cold touch be so warm?

Cautiously, Karou reached to rest her hands against Warren's bare chest. She hummed, happy and relieved that he didn't flinch. It was extraordinary to be allowed to touch him. For a brief moment, their eyes met again before they both watched as her fingers traced over his collarbones and shoulders. Encouraged by Warren's placidity, she ventured towards his neck. The embossed texture of his scarred skin suddenly made sense—the scars had once been fang bites, trophies of his raw moments as a victim to another Vampire. Karou wondered if she'd ever convince him to give in to her and gift her a set of similar scars. She was fascinated to know what it would feel like but couldn't fathom why—she knew it seemed crazy. Regardless, she imagined there was something intimate about it. All she'd known in place of love was neglect, so perhaps biting could be her segue. Since Warren warned her that feelings during feeding could be akin to sex, and that was something else she wanted to experience, she couldn't persuade herself to be scared of his fangs. Could she dare hope he would be willing to deliver on that wish, too?

The curious way Karou tilted her chin toward him prompted him to continue. The action had been an involuntary invite on her part, but he had taken it as her consent.
The last time they'd kissed, he'd been deliberate in his exploration of the inside of her mouth, but this time, he took his time finding just the right way for their lips to meet. A few times, he lightly pecked at her before changing the angle of his head or the pressure behind his lips until he'd teased her enough. She'd whined in pleasure and impatience, and when the time was right, her lips opened against his without prompting. With their lips locked together, Karou's excited heart thrummed, her pulse beat into the pads of his fingers as he cupped her chin, and as if she were desperate to keep him close, her fingers reached about the back of his head.

It was hard to deny that he was equally desperate. Warren had often daydreamed about this, but Karou was much sweeter in reality. This was only a gateway to darker pleasures, though, so the instant he felt his fingertips twitch with the urge to roam down her neck, and the possibility of her chest and waist beneath his hands seemed within reach, he knew he would have to stop. He knew he had to pry himself away from her right then, or he wouldn't be able to. So, setting his hand onto her shoulder, Warren did it gently by stroking up her arm towards where her hand had splayed into his hair. Gradually, he pried her fingers free of him and began his retreat. The whimper she made when she knew the moment was dying was heart-wrenching, and he immediately mourned the absence of her lips. As a comfort, Warren took Karou's hand and held it to his chest—she didn't have to stop touching him just yet.

Inches and silence were the only things between them as they calmed down. Warren wondered why kissing someone had never felt like that before, and Karou feared that she might never be kissed like that again.

Eventually, Warren left for the bathroom while Karou stared at the ceiling, gathering her thoughts. So many words had been said before, and now there was silence. What had happened was both real and simultaneously not.

The man staring back at him from the bathroom mirror was familiar, but the signals his body had sent to his brain weren't. He knew lust, but it was apparent that he wasn't thinking with that part of his body when he glanced down to his pelvis. His chest ached, his head felt fuzzy, and inside and out, he felt tingly and pleasant.

A cold shower grounded him, and when he stepped out of the water, he continued his ablutions and was set to go about the rest of his day without having any more to do with Karou than he usually would. However, when he left the bathroom, distractedly rubbing a towel through his hair, he discovered Karou was still lying on his bed—she'd fallen back to sleep. When he glanced at his alarm clock, it was still early for her. Karou looked to be out cold and peaceful; the expression on her face was content. Confident that he wouldn't wake her, he dropped his towel and dressed. The closing of one of his dresser drawers stirred Karou—blinking her eyes open as Warren zipped himself into a pair of jeans. At first, it was hard to believe; she'd never seen Warren dress in anything other than formal wear and pyjamas.

"You're not going to work today?" Karou asked drowsily.

"No, I meant it when I said I'd have a day off," Warren was glad that there seemed to be no awkwardness about their having kissed again. But for now, he was happy to have enjoyed it for what it was and didn't want to tarnish the memory of it with deep discussion and dissection. Karou propped herself up and scooted to the edge of his bed. The lazy braid she'd made in her hair earlier now had flyaway strands sticking out this way and that, and her cotton pyjamas were creased; her serenity was raw and tangible. How she looked climbing out of his bed changed how Warren imagined he wanted to spend the rest of his free day. "Why don't you go shower, and we can have breakfast? Unless you have other plans for today."

"I don't have plans. I never do. I'm not like you; I don't plan anything." Karou joked.

Warren rolled his eyes and went back to getting dressed. He grabbed a long-sleeved shirt from a drawer with a simple embellishment: a column of four brown buttons down the front contrasted with the fabric's cream shade and tight waffle weave.

"I'll shower and see you in the kitchen then?" Karou went on her way, but she stopped in the doorway. Her head tipped to the side in that cute way of hers when she asked, "Uhm, Warren, what's for breakfast?

"I feel like pancakes." A treat. Toast and eggs were usually as adventurous as he could be bothered to get most mornings.

"Hmm, I'm not sure I can eat pancakes. Y'know what? I'll just have toast."

"I think by now I can make pancakes you can eat, allergies and all." Warren quipped, shaking his head. As he sauntered past her, making for the kitchen, he combed his fingers back through his hair, tousling the damp stands, and smiled.

Whoa, he's being so friendly today, Karou thought as she hopped into the shower. Best not get used to it; it'll probably wear off.

After her shower, she scurried across the hallway to her room and dressed for the day—in cropped jeans and a shirt made of a floaty mint-coloured material.

✷✷✷

Breakfast was served on the kitchen island—pancakes, as promised, and coffee, as usual. Casting her eyes over the breakfast spread, she tipped her head to the side, impressed. "So, everything's safe for me to eat?" She asked, noticing an ingredient that appeared to be yoghurt—it occurred to her that sometimes people didn't realise how many foods were dairy.

"Yes, everything is dairy, soy, and nut-free. I made your pancakes with oat flour and oat-based yoghurt." Warren peered at her through his clubmaster-style reading glasses over the top of his newspaper with an accomplished, if not slightly impish, side smile.

"Wow. Y'know your stuff." Given the 'all clear', Karou proceeded to tuck in. The pancakes were an especially yummy treat. It was refreshing that her allergies didn't hinder her life barely at all since Warren could afford anything she required and never asked her to compensate him, how he got a hold of some of the groceries given the ongoing war never failed to amaze her. "Mmm, these are so good..." Karou mumbled with a mouth full. "I'm a little disappointed I can't have the chocolate ones, though." She eyed Warren's plate with a pout.

"If I had to choose between anaphylaxis or blueberry pancakes, I think I'd choose the blueberry pancakes, no? While chocolate is delicious, it's not worth risking your life over." Warren reasoned.

"D'you have a sweet tooth?" Karou enquired while peeping over the brim of her coffee mug.

Warren met her eyes over his newspaper and grinned. "Yes. I enjoy sweet things…" Like you. An internal voice whispered salaciously.

"Hm, is that right?" Karou asked rhetorically. Her cheeks flushed, his eyes conveying his inner thoughts unconsciously. "I've wondered why you eat, though." Karou was going to keep him talking, at least until her patience ran out. "And also, why do you wear glasses—isn't your eyesight essentially perfect?

"You've got a lot of questions this morning." Karou's face dropped, naturally assuming he wasn't going to answer, but he did, he said, "I like the ritual and routine of eating. There are certain foods I would miss the taste of. As for the glasses, they reduce the strain on my eyes. I read all day, every day, both on paper and screen, so they reduce the strain."

"Uh-huh, that makes sense," Karou replied with a nod concerning his glasses. "And the food thing, I get that, but not having to go to the bathroom ever again sounds like something I could live with."

"Ha, I've never thought about it like that. I guess I appreciate the ritual and routine of that, too."

Warren and Karou mutually tittered at his potty joke, but he quickly returned to his newspaper. That was until it struck him that there had been nothing usual about their morning so far, so he decided to continue in that vein and chose to do something unusual; he sparked a conversation.

"For a long time, I clung to what remained of my humanity for my sanity's sake, but eventually, I learned to let certain things go."

"What did you let go of?"

"People, mostly. Mortal people. They continue to age and eventually die while you're destined to linger, frozen in time. It's hard to maintain a meaningful relationship with someone when your expiration date is on hold for the foreseeable future and you are trying not to consume them when every fibre of your being drives you to. You've glimpsed some of the things I've done to survive, and there are plenty of worse things I'm not proud of. You have to let go of your previous life's moral compass if your sanity is going to remain."

Karou reached over the kitchen island to his newspaper, and she pushed it down, lowering the shield he'd put between them. "Is that why you don't want to be my friend?"

"No. I'm not lying to you about who or what I am." Warren started. "You know I'm a Vampire. You know I'll outlive you. You also know that I don't go to great lengths to hide how ugly I am on the inside. And, you know I could devour you at any moment, and you'd be helpless to stop me." He allowed himself one of his side smiles that made Karou blush. For now, he chose not to state the truth too strongly, but he and Karou's relationship was unique; she was the first Mortal who knew his true nature and hadn't been a victim of his fangs.

"Well, there may be some truth to those reasons, but I still don't believe you're a monster, and y'know, I could outlive you if I get what I want." Biting onto her lower lip, she tried to make her eyes appear as big and innocent as possible.

"Wasn't I naive to think we could make it through breakfast without you bringing that up?" Deflated and slightly annoyed, Warren huffed and slapped his newspaper onto the countertop. Consequently, that freed his arms, and he crossed them over chest in a show of displeasure.

"Persistence is a talent of mine." Karou looked pretty pleased with herself despite his offensive reaction. "I could be persuaded to make a deal, though. Say, if you spent the rest of your day off with me, I won't mention it again?" Karou knew she was pushing her luck because this was the only day off he'd spontaneously taken the whole time she'd known him.

Warren offered his hand to her over the kitchen island, initiating a handshake. "Deal."

With wide eyes, Karou took his hand and shook it to seal the deal. "You're agreeing, just like that?"

"Yes, there doesn't appear to be a catch, so I agree. Is that so hard to believe? I mean, what am I going to do otherwise? Sit and watch TV all day?" Warren had finished every morsel of his breakfast, and Karou had had enough, so he began clearing away their dishes. "Please don't tell me that is what you want to do; it would be a waste when we've put on day clothes." Warren turned on the faucet and pushed up his shirt sleeves to wash up.

"I haven't thought about what we should do. I didn't expect you to say yes." Karou hopped down from her chair, grabbed a dish towel and insinuated she'd dry while he washed.

"How about we leave the unit and see where our feet take us?" Warren smiled down his shoulder at her and passed her the first clean bowl. Karou smiled back, and they washed up together. It was perfectly ordinary but somehow special to Karou.