True Blood Canon: S4, Ep 3
Jun. 17th, 2017 09:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
onceavikingIt's hard.
Sookie is pretty and the way she smells makes him want to -
But he tries to behave, even though Pam's revelation that Sookie's house is in fact his house is making it harder.
Sookie shows him a hidden cubby (she has to coax him to climb down the small ladder).
"Wow," he says, looking around in the small space with the bed. "This really is my house."
"Yeah, but not for long," Sookie replies, seemingly disinclined to discuss it any further.
He - doesn't really pick up on that.
"And you live here? In my house?"
"Yes."
So disinclined.
But he presses on, because surely, surely that has to mean something.
"Are you mine?" he asks, hopefully. "No," she replies, curtly.
"Do you belong to another vampire?"
He hopes not and her - just as curt - 'no' kindles a hope in him. A hope that flies out of his mouth, breathlessly.
"Would you like to be mine?"
He looks at her. Hopefully.
"Um, not really," Sookie mumbles, "but - thank you for askin".
It's all so awkward and his open, trusting puppy-face is making it even more so.
And then he is suddenly taking hold of her, moving very, very close. His lips parted in a far more recognicable expression.
She says, "Eric, let me go", and is proud of herself for sounding firm instead of scared.
(His hands are huge).
"I just want to thank you for uh - for everything," Eric says and his voice sounds distant to his own ears. Up close it is really difficult to not get caught up in her scent. "That - that's all."
"You're welcome," she says with a fake smile. "Please let me go now." Trying to will him into doing as she tells him to.
"What are you?" he asks. Emcee called her a fairy girl or half fairy or something. Is that what she is?
The question, this particular question, manages to push Sookie from somewhat intimidated straight to really annoyed.
"I am really sick of being asked that question is what I am," she spits. "Let me go."
And he does. Quickly. As if burned.
"Of course," he says. "Sorry."
And then he settles down under the covers and she tries to make her body forget the sensation of his cold fingers curled around her upper arm.
Sookie is pretty and the way she smells makes him want to -
But he tries to behave, even though Pam's revelation that Sookie's house is in fact his house is making it harder.
Sookie shows him a hidden cubby (she has to coax him to climb down the small ladder).
"Wow," he says, looking around in the small space with the bed. "This really is my house."
"Yeah, but not for long," Sookie replies, seemingly disinclined to discuss it any further.
He - doesn't really pick up on that.
"And you live here? In my house?"
"Yes."
So disinclined.
But he presses on, because surely, surely that has to mean something.
"Are you mine?" he asks, hopefully. "No," she replies, curtly.
"Do you belong to another vampire?"
He hopes not and her - just as curt - 'no' kindles a hope in him. A hope that flies out of his mouth, breathlessly.
"Would you like to be mine?"
He looks at her. Hopefully.
"Um, not really," Sookie mumbles, "but - thank you for askin".
It's all so awkward and his open, trusting puppy-face is making it even more so.
And then he is suddenly taking hold of her, moving very, very close. His lips parted in a far more recognicable expression.
She says, "Eric, let me go", and is proud of herself for sounding firm instead of scared.
(His hands are huge).
"I just want to thank you for uh - for everything," Eric says and his voice sounds distant to his own ears. Up close it is really difficult to not get caught up in her scent. "That - that's all."
"You're welcome," she says with a fake smile. "Please let me go now." Trying to will him into doing as she tells him to.
"What are you?" he asks. Emcee called her a fairy girl or half fairy or something. Is that what she is?
The question, this particular question, manages to push Sookie from somewhat intimidated straight to really annoyed.
"I am really sick of being asked that question is what I am," she spits. "Let me go."
And he does. Quickly. As if burned.
"Of course," he says. "Sorry."
And then he settles down under the covers and she tries to make her body forget the sensation of his cold fingers curled around her upper arm.
