That smell.

"I am marked as your soul mate it aint the same, i can still live trough us being away from each other." He said it was true though, Zechariah could live without being with her, but the truth was he could live with the hole he had, done so ages ago. But his heart was beating wild for her. As her hand followed his neck it gave electricity in his body.

As she told him he did not need he scorfed she did not understand the part of being a witch if he did this with her he would, not be able to be with anyone els ever. His eyes looked at her as he, raised his eyebrow. He then moved away from her agian as she move toward him,

"i dont think you understand how it is Heather, so no you dont know how much i wanne be with you, but it is a lot to do and i would say, we cant do it." He said as he, went back until he felt his back agianst the wall. Why was this so hard to keep himself away from her, he was marked yes but he had to try and hold his own stand.

"I dont know what, will happend, so i dont want this yet, we might need to get to know each other, i aint that much for being so close with another even, though it his like i cant control myself near you." He said as he sent her a short smile.

As he told her that he could live being away from eachother it felt like her heart got a crack. Why did she feel so sad about him telling that? She wasn’t the one who needed him. His blood was just like a drug and it could drive her mad to live without it. She would do anything to keep it.

When he moved away from her yet again she felt the crack got deeper. Why was he tearing her heart into pieces? Apparently she didn’t understand how it was to be a witch, which was obvious since she was a pureblood vampire. We can’t do it. She looked away from him and sighed. She wanted to fight for a successful relationship but it all seemed to crumble underneath her.

I don’t want this yet, pulled her heart in two. She felt her breathing getting shorter. “You know what I don’t want to be a part of this,” she said. It was clear that she was sad. She looked up at him with tears down her cheeks. “Fuck you,” she cried, “Fuck you and your fucking mark”. She turned away from him, picked her shoes up in her hand and sobbed. If he didn’t say a thing she would leave the room and eventually while walking put on her shoes.

Zechariah had, figure out how to deal with, if not he could accept this, they where never going to be a thing as it seems like rage and sadness took over, and he heard her voices he was speechless. Then she took her stuff and moved towards the door. Inside him, he was fighting how much he wanted her to stay and even beg her to take him.

But by closing his eyes he could, see clear, as the door shout as she wander of he open them up, shortly after he grabbed his own things, before he took a deep breath and left the hotel going the complete other way. This was how he had made his bed, nothing new to do about it.
//out < 3//

Nothing. He said nothing. She dried her cheeks once and began to put on her shoes. He could probably hear her sobbing. She didn’t care. Everyone was welcome to hear her crying.
She knew she needed to get her mind off of Zechariah. On her way down the stairs she dried her cheeks, tied the bow in front of her chest and lifted her head. She had put on a façade, even though it was clear that she had been crying, just by looking at her cheeks and in her eyes. Both were red. She was going to party tonight. Maybe drink a bit too much blood. Nobody was going to stop her.

She grabbed an umbrella in the lobby, even though it wasn’t raining outside. As soon as she got out she opened it up and walked towards the metro. She had to go home, rest, drink some boring bloodbags and get dressed for the best night ever.

//Out 3