AN: Warning-If a stalker Eric is a turn-off for you, please don’t read this little story. That way, you won’t be offended and all will be well. This is meant to be a one-shot, and it’s probably a topic that’s already been done to death…but if there is enough interest I might expand into a longer story. Let me know what you think if you feel like leaving a review or PM. Rated M for a slice of lemon.
Ever since Gran died last month, Sookie had spent more and more time outside the house. If she wasn’t working at Merlotte’s (often double shifts to distract herself from grief that often threatened to swallow her whole), she was outside during the day sunbathing, gardening, or simply sitting on the porch at night staring at the moon.
Sundays were the most difficult, as she was off from work and aside from attending church, she often found herself alone with her thoughts. She dreaded the lack of busy time and often sank into a quagmire of grief, drowning in an overwhelming sense of loss. She had never felt so deeply alone in her life. She really was alone, for all intents and purposes. She and Jason had grown apart, never more evident than after Gran’s death, as he was bitter that she was willed the old home and the surrounding land, despite the provision that he inherit their parent’s home. Tara was busy with her newborns, and she found Arlene’s condescendante platitudes to be irksome rather than comforting. Of course, Sam had made sincere attempts to reach out to her, both at work and stopping by her house on several occasions. She was touched by his efforts and had even agreed to go out for coffee with him one Sunday, but just ended up feeling guilty that she could barely engage in polite conversation. She gently declined his offers afterwards.
The proximity of the cemetery was both a blessing and a curse. While she was able to visit Gran’s grave daily, which seemed to comfort her on some level, it also magnified her feelings of mortality and alienation.
Tonight, after woodenly eating a frozen dinner after work, she headed out of the house to the cemetery to place fresh flowers on the grave (she had stopped off at the grocery store and bought some daisies, which were Gran’s favorites). As she walked, she noticed lights on at the old Compton place. Since Jesse Compton died, the house had fallen into further disrepair, and so she was surprised at the possibility it had been purchased. Who would want the old house? Either someone wanted a fixer-upper or they planned to raze it and rebuild, she figured. She walked to the edge of the cemetery and stared at the house, searching with her telepathy for the mind within that would help provide clues to the puzzle.
She noticed a red corvette parked out front, but did not detect anyone’s thoughts inside the house. She shrugged mentally, and then turned back towards home. As she walked back towards the front porch, she happened to look up at the moon, which was full and almost blindingly bright. She couldn’t believe her eyes! For a split second, she thought she saw a man flying? Although seen from a distance, he looked like a large man, and his long hair trailed behind him as he sped rapidly towards the woods.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes. When she looked up again, she saw nothing but an empty moonlit sky and the trees swaying in the wind.
She shook her head. Now she was seeing things! She supposed stress and the consuming grief over the past month had finally caught up with her. She took that as a sign to call it a night.
She want back in the house and heated up some hot water in the microwave and placed the chamomile tea bag in the cup. She took the tea into the bathroom, sipping it as she filled the tub with hot water.
She immersed herself in the water, sighing as the hot water enveloped her tense muscles. How she ached! She tried to let her thoughts drift, and as she did, found her eyes getting heavier. She tried to stay awake, but her exhausted mind soon succumbed to the soothing bath.
She abruptly startled, hearing a loud thump near the bathroom window, strong enough to shake the side of the house. She sat up, sputtering and coughing up water. She had actually fallen asleep and slipped underneath the water! She couldn’t believe it. That had never happened to her before. She had heard of this tragedy occurring to people, and until now had never understood how that would be possible (to someone sober, that is).
Rattled, she stood up in the now lukewarm water and hurriedly toweled off. She put on an old threadbare t-shirt she had stolen from Jason and a pair of boxers. As she combed out her hair, she recalled how she was suddenly awakened by the loud thump outside the small bathroom window and went to investigate.
When she went over to inspect it, she cursed when she noticed that the glass was cracked and a large shard had fallen out. What the hell had happened? She knew birds often flew into windows (she had seen their poor dead bodies laying outside on the ground underneath various windows occasionally), but it had always happened during the day. Did birds fly into windows at night? She thought it possible, but couldn’t ever remember it happening.
She went into the kitchen and got some duct tape to patch the hole to prevent insects getting into the house while she slept. She put two pieces over the hole and then passed out in bed, falling into a deep and dreamless slumber.
She was completely unaware of the vampire hovering outside her bedroom window, staring through the parted curtains at her unmoving form with an inquisitive look on his handsome face.
In the morning, Sookie woke up for the first time in weeks feeling somewhat refreshed. However, as so often happened, reality hit and a large wave of grief crashed into her. She experienced a sharp and sudden pain in her chest as she thought about Gran making her biscuits and gravy for breakfast, realizing with a deep and profound sadness she would never again eat her food, never share a meal, smile, hug, or joke again. She lay on her side on the bed and cried. It seemed like she did a lot of that nowadays, and she knew Gran would chastise her for shedding so many tears, but she couldn’t help herself. She had read on a grief support website that it was better to allow yourself to feel emotions, to feel the pain and cry if you wanted to instead of ignoring or denying it. In other words, suppressing the grief would only make the healing process prolonged. She hated the term “closure,” knowing deep in her soul she would never “get over” Gran’s death. She simply hoped one day that the pain would become less acute and she could instead focus on the bittersweet memories of the woman who loved her unconditionally and was more of a mother to her than her biological parent.
After several minutes, she got up and took a hot shower and got dressed. She didn’t need to be at Merlotte’s until 11:30 for the lunch crowd, but she wanted to go outside and check out the damaged window. After two cups of coffee and an English muffin, she headed out the back door to the side of the house where her bathroom was located. She looked on the ground and found the shard of broken glass, but did not see a dead or injured bird (she was glad about that!). She shrugged and picked up the glass to dump into the trash and decided to call Terry Bellefleur, who was always helpful and a competent handy man. He was usually happy for the chance to perform odd jobs for extra money.
He agreed to come out and look at the window and get the supplies to replace the pane of glass, and after much encouragement accepted a modest sum for his troubles (in addition to the reimbursement for the supplies). Since he wasn’t working at Merlotte’s that day and was willing to repair the window that afternoon, she informed him she would leave the key to the house under her front porch mat. He agreed to replace it under the mat after he was done. She asked him to call her and leave a message with the amount she owed him so she could leave a check with Sam at Merlotte’s.
She then decided to sit out on her lawn chair and read a book, but she had difficulty concentrating. She still had about another hour before she’d have to leave for work, and decided to go visit Gran again. She knew other people might think it morbid or pathetic that she spent so much time at her grandmother’s grave, but she didn’t care. She needed the comfort, cold though it was, by talking to her Gran and being near her in some capacity. As she walked on the little dirt path, she noticed large boot prints that pointed towards the grave. She thought it odd that the tracks led up to the edge of the grave but did not point away. It was if someone walked up to the grave and then disappeared. She frowned. The prints were not there the day before, and she wondered who had been visiting her Gran. She supposed it could have been Jason or someone from the DGD or even from church, but she had not heard any cars drive up, since access would have to made from either her driveway or…
An idea popped into her head. She would head over to the Compton house and see if the driver of the vette had been in the cemetery, as she was curious whether the new tenant had known Gran. As she headed over to the house, she noticed that the car was gone, and all lights were off. It looked empty and abandoned. She approached the house with some trepidation, but built up enough courage to climb the rickety steps to knock on the door. There was no answer, and no sounds within (listening with both her ears and her mind). She had a chill run down her spine for some reason, and bounded down the stairs in a rush, hurrying back to her house to finish getting ready for work.
Sookie was tired when she got home after working through the lunch and dinner shifts. As she drove down her pitted gravel driveway, she was struck by how lonely and cold the house looked. She choked back a sob and parked her car around back and let herself in the back door. She remembered that Terry had said he returned the key she had left for him. She went to retrieve the key but found nothing underneath the doormat. She lifted the mat and shook it out, and then checked the entire front porch but could not find the key. She was too tired to pursue the matter any further tonight, and figured Terry probably forgot to return it. She cut him some slack, as he was a good guy, but very damaged emotionally (and hence, distractible) since the war.
She went upstairs and checked his work in the bathroom. She was pleased to see that he had replaced the window, which looked good as new. She was so tired that she decided to take a shower and go straight to bed. She had brought a sandwich to work for lunch, and although she hadn’t eaten since noon, she just wasn’t feeling hungry. She was actually too exhausted to eat.
After slipping on a white cotton nightie, she lay down on her bed and cried for several minutes as she once again thought about Gran. She tried to sleep, and despite being so tired, tossed and turned. The house was stuffy, and her cotton gown stuck to her skin in a most unpleasant way. She got up to open the window to let in some fresh air, and hopefully get a breeze blowing into her room. The fresh draught actually helped, and she found herself eventually falling into a fitful sleep.
Sookie had a history of talking and walking in her sleep ever since her molestation by Uncle Bartlett, which increased in frequency immediately after her parents died. Over the years, while living with Gran, who gave her consistent love and support, the sleepwalking and talking had decreased, but the episodes had a tendency to reemerge during times of stress. Since Gran had died, she had caught herself on a couple of occasions in different rooms, and had also awakened on the couch and even in the laundry room with no recollection as to how she got there.
Tonight, she talked out loud while she slept. On any other night no one would have heard what she said. But tonight was different. Tonight a vampire hovered outside her window and he heard her words.
He could not make out everything she said, but caught occasional mentions of a “Gran” and “come back, don’t leave.” The young woman sounded forlorn, her beautiful face stricken. Eric listened to her, strangely moved by her sadness and loss, surmising that the young woman dreamed about her dead grandmother, buried in the small cemetery near the Compton house that he recently purchased. He had heard her crying softly and knew that grief lay heavily upon her.
He had planned to restore the old property and renovate it into a safe house, as it was reasonably close to his Shreveport businesses while offering seclusion in this small back water town. He initially wanted to just demolish the rattrap and build anew, but didn’t want to face the hassle of facing a backlash from the community since the house had been declared an historic property. The renovations were to begin soon, as he had already had hired contractors to start later in the week.
He continued to watch the sleeping beauty as he hovered outside her window. She was mouthwateringly ripe and voluptuous. She had kicked off the sheets as she tossed and turned, revealing toned, tan thighs and a glimpse of downy blonde pubic hair between her legs. He could also see her large, firm breasts straining against the thin cotton fabric of her nightgown, which clung to her sweat-soaked skin. He was truly grateful he had intervened when he had spotted her sinking underneath the water in the bathtub the night before. If not for his interference, she likely would not have been here lying in her bed before him, and that was unacceptable…He had plans for her…
He licked his lips and wondered if she would taste as delicious as she looked. He moved closer to the window and sat on the edge of the sill to get a better view. He could smell her enticing scent wafting through the open window. She smelled more appealing than any other human he had ever encountered in his 1000 plus years. He inhaled deeply and continued to watch her with rapt attention.
He wondered what she would think to see him sitting at her window and chuckled to himself. He supposed she would be terrified, and rightfully so, to see the large blonde peeping Tom perched on her sill. He knew she had caught a glimpse of him flying the previous night, which had led to his further investigation of the woman. He had initially planned to glamour her to forget the incident, but a combination of her beauty, sadness, and hints of her sweet scent had reeled him in. He had his day man do research on her while he was dead for the day and received information about her name, age, and other basic personal information. He also was told that she was single and lived alone…a nice addition to her allure.
He continued to watch the sleeping woman, when suddenly, Sookie sat up in bed and said, “Is it you?” He was so startled he almost fell off his perch. He considered flying away, but as he looked closely at her he realized she was still asleep. “Ah,” he thought. “Maybe I can use this to my advantage.”
He decided to answer her. “Yes, it is.”
Sookie looked perplexed and pursed her lips querulously, “But where have you been? I’ve missed you.”
He was initially taken aback but recovered quickly. “I’ve been here, waiting.”
She turned towards him and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
He crooned in a low voice, “Come here, dear one.”
Sookie stood up and walked over to the open window.
His fangs ran out as she neared, noting how her heart had sped up slightly. He whispered, “Invite me in, Sookie.”
She obeyed. “Please come in.”
He smiled triumphantly and easily half floated, half crawled through the window, without hindrance despite his size. He gently took her by the shoulders and guided her back to the bed.
“Sweetness,” he soothingly breathed in her ear. He slowly pulled her hair from her neck and licked the tender spot over the carotid artery, priming it for his fangs. He then ever so gently inserted his needle sharp fangs into the vein, moaning as the hot and delectable nectar hit his mouth. Virgin. She was a virgin. Gods! He couldn’t believe his good fortune.
Sookie sighed and began to softly pant, grasping his shoulders.
He was rock hard. He could not remember a time when he had wanted a woman so desperately. He clenched his eyes shut tightly and grimaced as if in a great deal of pain while he had a silent but powerful orgasm, shooting cum violently into his pants. He couldn’t believe how intense the orgasm was, especially considering they had not even had sex. He shuddered and reluctantly withdrew his fangs, biting his tongue and bathing the wounds in his blood, which allowed him to not only heal her, but also inject enough of his magic into her bloodstream to begin a small bond.
Sookie whimpered as he licked the blood off her neck lazily.
He withdrew and stared at her with lust, his cerulean eyes glowing eerily in the moonlight. She was still asleep. Amazing. Had she awakened, he would have promptly glamoured her, but now he simply guided her to lie back in bed. If she remembered anything in the morning, she would likely attribute it to a dream and nothing more.
He pushed her gently back down into bed, where she curled up on her side and closed her eyes, her chest moving slowly and deeply, apparently falling into a calm and deep sleep.
He sat on her bed, watching her for several hours. He simply did not want to leave her side. Now that he had established a small bond with her, he felt even more compelled to be physically close to her.
He stayed right up until sunrise, deciding to go to ground out near the woods. He would rise and clean himself at the old house at sunset before seeking her out. He now had open access to her home given that he had a key and most importantly, an invitation. Before Eric flew out of the window, he glanced one last time at her sleeping form. Her days of loneliness and sadness were nearing an end. Although she didn’t know it yet, she was now his and her life as she knew it would never be the same.
So stocker Eric is kinda sexy. I think he wants to help her…I mean he saved her from ‘the bathtub’. I look forward to reading more.