A Dance in the Moonlight

Irie coughed as a foot caught him, tossing him aside. He skidded across the floor and slammed into the wall. He lay for a moment, stunned. It had been right there. Right there!! He'd even tasted it! But it was no use. He couldn't anymore. He closed his eyes, pondering if this was what death felt like. Maybe the agent would be nice and finish him off.
 
(Dammit. Never got the notif)

Amara scrambled quickly back and pulled her arm against herself, staring at him, he somehow looked familiar but she wasn't sure why. He didn't come after her so she stayed put but ready to flee "are...you..ok?"
 
Irie barked out a hoarse laugh around his shivers. "Do I look alright?" he tried to snap, but it came out more like a feeble whimper than a snap.
 
She frowned a little and she looked at her arm and the little spots of blood..

She of course knew stories about vampires. He had all the trademark indications. She tried to calm herself, watching him? Thrn her eyes widened "oh my god...you're...you're the son"
 
Irie slowly worked himself up into a sitting position while she was debating and considering the evidence. He leaned against the wall, half-curled around his stomach. He felt like he had an empty pit lined with razor blades for a stomach. He flopped his head back and gazed at the agent wearily. "I know I'm gorgeous, but I wouldn't say I glow that much," he quipped in a hoarse voice, trying to make a bit of dry humor.
 
Amara smiled faintly but briefly too.
"Why..are you here?" Ahe asked him, still trying to decide how exactly she was going to proceed here with this new information
 
"It's my house, isn't it?" Irie shot back irritably. Then he frowned. "At least... I thought it was my house. I came to be here alone after... and then..." He shook his head. "Never mind the story. I'm stuck here, and it's my house, anyway." He scowled at her challengingly, but there was no way he could back up his challenge.
 
"Technically..not anymore...you disappeared..the house went to thr bank" she explained. It was clear enough in her eyes that she felt badly.

"You're...hungry yeah? I can get you food.."
 
Irie shook his head. "I can't eat, not anymore." Then he paused, her first sentence registering fully. "Wait... what do you mean the bank took it? I haven't been gone that long! It's only been like two weeks! Or maybe three..." He hesitated, uncertainty creeping into his heart. "Yeah! Only three weeks. I thought they couldn't take a hat until... Longer..."
 
She glanced at her arm again "I can get you blood...not human but..I know a butcher" she said and looked back at him, not addressing the first thing yet "why don't I come back tomorrow with that and then we can talk? Will you be ok that long?"
 
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Irie mumbled, slumping back against the wall. "Fine as I'll ever be, I guess." He closed his eyes. He was tired. So very tired. "Hey. Sorry for making a lot of messes and stuff. I just... I needed to protect my house. I don't have anywhere else to go." He opened his eyes, scowling again. "And you'd best go now. I don't do sad sob stories."
 
Shw smirked a little and got to her feet "I'll come as soon as I can tomorrow she said "I'll cancel showings until we figure out ehat to do" she said before she headed toward the door. Her thoughts all over the place
 
Irie managed a weak wave but didn't say anything further. He didn't actually notice when or if she left. After a few minutes of sitting quietly, he dragged himself up off the floor - literally as he was clinging to the walls - and slowly hobbled toward the kitchen. Maybe he could sleep early? He doubted it, but maybe. He just wanted things to be different.
 
Amara returned thr following night. No showings to disturb him as promised.

She knocked lightly before she stepped in "hello?"
 
Irie sat in the little hallway between the family room and the foyer, watching quietly. He hadn't expected her to return. If she had returned, he hadn't expected her to be so... polite about it. He moved back just a little as the open door let in the moonlight, but the light did not come close to touching him. Even so, he felt wary of the innocuous beams. His hands still stung.

"Hello," he greeted after an awkward silence. "You came back."
 
"I said I would" she closed the door "i visited my butcher friend" she lifted the cooler she had brought with her "I got you some pig and cow blood...I didn't know what would be better"
 
He straightened a little, unable to help the glimmer of eagerness in his eyes. "I hope I did not cause you too much trouble," he whispered, his voice already tired. Everything was tired. Her blood would fix that... His gaze wandered to her throat. It was right there. Calling to him!

No.

He forced himself to look back at the cooler. "I do not know which will be better, either. I have not had anything but rat and once a dog." He was a bit sorry about the dog. It was a small thing and probably someone's pet. He'd done his best to bury it deep under the house.
 
"I think it's me who has beem causing more dostress" she said, stepping closer she set thr cooler down and stepped back so he could take it. "I just..didn't realize what was going on and now...Well I don't know what to do exactly"
 
Irie inched closer to the cooler, taking great care to avoid any possibility of touching the light. The cooler popped over to reveal four quart jars of blood, and his eyes widened in shock. He leaned forward and took a deep breath. The scent of blood twined tantalizingly around his nose. Wait... He took another breath and looked at the jars in surprise. He could smell the difference! Two different types of blood! No, he must be overthinking it. After all, she'd already told him there were two kinds.

He picked up one jar with great care and opened the lid. His hands shook as the scent grew stronger. A groan shivered from his lips. Then he lifted the jar to his mouth and started drinking. Once he started, he couldn't stop! He forgot about moonlight. Forgot about the agent and his house. Forgot about everything but the sweet, coppery taste of nourishment!

He was on his third jar before he slowed. He drank the fourth jar slowly then licked off the rim. Somehow, shockingly, he'd managed to keep from spilling all over himself like a psychopath, and he laid back with a deep sigh. So this was what it felt like to be full! He could have easily drunk another jar, but he felt satisfied. The pain in his belly was gone, as were the blisters on his hands. For the first time in weeks... he did not hurt!
 
Amara sat quietly by and let him drink his fill. she tried not to stare too much and give him his privacy but it was hard to pull her eyes away. he was so desperate and so so hungry. she knew she should be disturbed but that wasn't at all what came to mind. He was sxared, hungry and confused with no place to go. She wanted to help so she sat quietly and waited for him to finish.

"better?" she asked softly when he had finished drinking the fourth jar of blood
 
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