Whose kiss?Mature

He made them both a coffee each, carrying them through to the bedroom. He walked in quietly and at first she didn't notice his presence. She was crying to herself, with hushed sobs. He put the coffees down on the dresser next to her, crouching next to her.

"What's wrong?" he mumbled, his arm instinctively wrapping around her shoulders.

"Nothing, I'm fine," she murmured, wiping her eyes and sitting up straight. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Of course.  That's why you're crying," he mumbled, standing up. He disappeared for a moment before returning with a box of tissues, placing them in front of her.

She denied it for a moment, before sighing and taking one. "I'm just useless, that's all," she explained, blowing her nose - which was something she definitely didn't miss when she was a vampire.

"You're not useless at all. What makes you say that?" he asked, pulling on a pair of jeans and sitting down on the bed behind her.

"When I was human, I had servants to do everything for me, now I'm human again I don't know anything," she sighed once more, "if Grace was to see me now she'd have a heart-attack."

"You'll get the hang of it," he shrugged, "everyone's gotta learn at some point, you just happen to be learning a few centuries late."

"Just a few," she muttered bitterly and he sighed, moving back over to her and placing both his arms around her shoulders from behind.

"It'll be fine," he muttered.

"Now I have to brush my hair..." she murmured, "I miss Grace." Again, he had to resist the desire to roll his eyes. Rich kids are all the same, he thought to himself.

"You'll do fine without her, Melissa," he mumbled, kissing her on the cheek and letting go to allow her to get on with brushing her hair. He picked up his coffee and sat on the floor beside her, leaning back on the wall as he looked up at her. She sighed, picking up the brush she looked at her reflection and brushed through her hair, which had already begun to dry and curl. As she tried to fix her hair, he had to look away again, focusing on his coffee, unable to rid his thoughts of his deep seated resentment for rich families and their dependence on their servants.

After a while she placed the brush back down, took a ribbon and tied back her hair with it, but as she stared at her reflection further, she just seemed to miss Grace even more, then she felt selfish for only thinking of her now, after four hundred years.

"Alright?" he asked, glancing up again as she sat staring at herself.

"Mourning people I should have mourned so long ago. I've turned into such a selfish creature," she replied and he nodded, staring back at the bottom of his mug, tilting it slightly to make the last dregs at the bottom move around slightly. She lifted her coffee and downed it in one, before absently brushing the pony-tail she had just created, helping it to curl further.

"Well, I should really go shopping," he muttered, pushing himself up as he spoke, looking for a shirt.

"Get some food in too and I'll cook."

"Sure," he said, tugging a too-tight t-shirt over his head. "I think I shrunk it," he muttered, looking down at himself, plucking the clinging material away from him and watching as it pinged back. He shook his head slightly and looked for a pen, "what d'you want me to get?"

She reeled off a list of various goods, then re-checked them in her head as he wrote them down first on his hand and then slowly writing down his arm, "yep and... why not get some wine or something?" She smiled, putting the brush down and turning to face him.

"Yeah, okay. I may be a fair while... you know I rarely venture out of the frozen meal section."

She nodded, "but you can't leave yet!" he looked around at her, vaguely wondering where his shoes were. She stood, linked her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly... or as tightly as she could. "Now, you may leave," she whispered, pulling away. He smiled and kissed her gently on the lips for a moment before leaving the room. He grabbed his wallet and found his shoes, one by the door and the other behind the sofa.

When he was done shopping, he staggered back to the apartment, his hands straining under the weight of the bags. "I need a new car!" he whined as he dumped the bags in the kitchen, shaking the blood flow back into them.

"You could've asked, I would've gone and helped," Melissa said, standing in the doorway.

"No, no," he shook his head, "I meant to get a new car ages ago, I just never really had the time in between being hunted and jailed and moving house and marrying the woman of my dreams," he flashed a grin at her as he started putting the groceries away. "Oh, here," he pulled out a new sponge, some women's facial wash and hair conditioner, "thought you might appreciate those."

"Thank you," she murmured walking into the kitchen, "is there anything I can do?"

"Um... well, since you're the only one that knows how to cook, you might want the kitchen stuff in a certain order?" he muttered, shuddering as he remembered how he used to get yelled at for putting things in the wrong place if he stayed at a woman's house when he was kicked out of his place.

"Not really. I'll find it eventually," she smiled.

"Um... I dunno then," he laughed, putting the last few things in the fridge, "what do you wanna do?"

"I just wondered if I could help."

"You can put the face wash and stuff in the bathroom," he shrugged and slapped his forehead, "I didn't get you any deodorant."

"I guess I'll just borrow yours for a while, till we can get some." She took the bathroom stuff and shrugged, "I don't plan on leaving the apartment anytime soon."

"Fair enough," he nodded, getting a glass of water and leaning back on the counter.

She placed the stuff in the bathroom, next to Lazarus' stuff and the facial wash in the small cabinet above the sink before returning back to him. "So, what's to do as a human?" She asked, feeling the boredom seeping into her routine again.

"What did you miss most about being human?"

She fell into a dream for a moment, "the kiss."

"The kiss?" he asked, trying not the arch an eyebrow.

"Oh... it's nothing. To be honest, the food." He didn't say anything, wondering whose kiss she had missed and whether it was worth the small pang of jealousy. "Which doesn't help my problem," she continued.

"Well the kitchen's full of food, feel free to eat whatever," he shrugged, standing away from the counter, "I'm gonna play the piano. Wanna join me?"


The End

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