Stay With Me They pressed around me, those unwashed masses, the children of the night, the lost souls that couldn't find anywhere but here. They thronged together and found small holes in the fabric of reality in places like this one. In here, in this dingy backstreet club where the air was full of clove smoke and sweat, this was their domain. Their place to be free from the cruel restraints that reality had placed on them. In this place there was no school, no homework, no bullies and no parents. There was only the taste of someone else's skin, the smoke that filled their lungs and the music that kept their hearts beating. They had come from all over town to find this place, this little slice of heaven. Those children were dressed however they felt most comfortable. Some had bare midriffs and some didn't, some had thick leather jackets and some wore only thin cotton shirts. They had thick make up smeared over their delicate skin and their hair was full of gel and spray. They looked dead, almost. Like someone had sucked most of the #life from them and allowed them to keep going. But still, it was beautiful. A scrawny thing, probably only just fifteen, darted past me towards his friends with a smile on his face and a drink in his hand. It was only a light beer, but still he had one and that was enough. His skin was shiny with sweat and his hair was spiked almost taller than he was. Dressed in black, he disappeared into the crowd with ease. A hush fell over the crowd, and then a strange excitement began to arise. The thrumming of all those matching heartbeats sped up until it was all I could hear, all I could feel. A single man stepped out onto the stage, and all eyes turned to him. He picked up a guitar and smiled, messing with the strings until a beautiful note pierced the air around us. Another followed him, sitting neatly behind the drum kit. There was a moment before he began playing when the crowd held its collective breath. He hit the skins with his drumsticks and a heavy breath was released from all of the children. All of them. Another walked on and picked up his bass. He was quiet and unassuming, but the crowd watched him with those haunting black rimmed eyes. They kept their gaze on him as he moved, and then he went still. His fingers blazed up and down the neck of his bass, but the rest of him was almost a statue. Finally, a fourth man walked on stage. He was beautiful, dressed in black leather trousers and not much else. He had a ripped black top that hung lose from his shoulders, and hair that reached down to his waist. He stood in front of the crowd, feeling the buzzing excitement building. I felt it then, the pull that had brought me here to this small club in the middle of the southern states. This man, he was why I was here. His beautiful sharp features, and those eyes that took in the entire room. He was stunning, and I wanted him. Suddenly, almost without warning, the band started playing. The guitar scratched and he drums reached a level of noise you couldn't have heard anywhere but this small town club. And the bass players fingers reached levels I couldn't imagine. I tried to focus on each of them individually but I failed. My attention, and the entire crowd's attention too, was drawn to the man that held the microphone. He licked his lips, that pink tongue darting between them, and smiled. He opened his mouth and let his voice be heard. The words meant nothing to me, but the clear tones of his voice shook me to the core. He was so achingly beautiful, his notes spun a haunting refrain around our heads and the crowd whispered along with him. I found myself looking into the face of my lover-to-be. His lips curled up in a smile as he saw me amongst his faithful. The children surged forwards, their hands raised high as though in prayer and their soft voices echoing his words. Originally, I had come for one of the children. But he, who stood up there so mighty and proud, he made my mouth water. I wanted him and only him. There I stood, enraptured by this man's beauty, until he was finished with his band and they all left the stage. I realised I had been stood still for several hours, the beer in my hand had grown warm. I took a long slug, feeling the warm suds slip down my throat and turned on my heel to leave. "Excuse me," the man at the door caught my arm, "one of the band members would like to see you." "Who?" I asked, my voice hadn't been used in nearly a full month, so it was scratchy and harsh. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Who wants me?" The man replied instantly, "The singer." I smiled and nodded. He let go of my arm and motioned for me to follow him. I did, and as I did I grew more and more wary of what could happen next. The man left me in front of a small door, and I knocked on it. There was a moment before it swung open to reveal a small dressing room. I stood in the doorway, waiting for the man to invite me in. There was a moment of silence. "You can come in, you know." He said softly, his voice was like whiskey on a summer's day. I smiled and stepped into the room, his room. "I saw you out there." "Did you?" "You came for them." He muttered looking down at his hands. "I did." "You stayed for me." He stated. I nodded not feeling like I should correct him. He was perfectly right. If this was a normal day, I would have left before the band had finished. Instead, I was stood backstage with a man I was intensely attracted to. "Why didn't you take one and leave?" He asked, not looking at me. I shrugged. I didn't know, not really. I could have left at any point during the night but instead, I was here with him. Maybe he was the reason I didn't find any children tonight. He looked up at me, his eyes a deep shade of grey. "Did you wait for me?" "Yes." I bowed my head, not wanting to look into those eyes again. I could see far too much of myself in them, but the longing there... The ache, the need for something real, that screamed at me. I could feel him, his longing rivalling my own. "Do you still want me?" His mouth twirled up at the end, a sly smile finding its way onto his face. I nodded. His hand wrapped around my wrist and he pulled me down to his level. He smirked and pushed his lips against mine. I froze for a second before following his lead and kissing him back. Two hundred years of not seeing another of my kind had left me lonely, needy and unfulfilled. I felt the same hollowness in him and we strove fix it for each other. His mouth was warm, he was warm. He'd fed recently. Compared to him, I must have been freezing. Still, we clashed against each other. Bodies pressed close and hands pulling, tugging, stroking. He was on top of me, I was against the wall. His hands were at my belt and I had ripped his top clean off. I could feel the thrum of warm blood under his skin and I ached to take it from him. "Bite me." His moan was sensual, needy. He was begging me to do what I was fighting every instinct to not do. At that, I gave in and pressed my teeth to his skin. Over and over, the thick red welling blood dripped down his chest and neck and soaked both of us. By the time we were finished, both of us were panting and smeared in the thick clotting blood that had seeped from his veins. I smiled at him, and he pressed a delicate kiss to my lips. "Stay with me." He whispered. "Stay with me, please." I nodded, my own mouth curling into a smile. "Okay. I'll stay." He sighed happily and curled into my arms. I held him close and smiled into the darkness.