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Petrus smiled at his lover, enjoying the way the wind played with her long hair, spreading it like a frayed golden banner behind her. It also brought a flush to her cheeks that reminded him of her mortality.
His sweet was human. Mortal, fragile, and so easily impressed by the things that he'd seen and the places he'd been in his long centuries. They'd been together for twenty years now, and he still delighted in watching her. He wouldn’t let her go, and he’d made sure that she would never want to leave him.
She'd been young when he'd found her. Young by the current standards, at least. In his mortal days, she'd have been wed and likely mother to a child or two by that age. But this was a different era, and she had still been considered a child.
Barely sixteen the night he'd first met her, having wandered farther from her family's outing on the beach. She had looked so pretty in her delicate green swimsuit, one that showed her arms and her legs and a tempting expanse of her pale throat... She had been so young and sheltered, innocent and unaware of the dangers of the world. He'd decided immediately that her eyes were beautiful, and he liked the sound of her laugh.
He'd taken the time necessary in making her trust him. First he’d let her get used to seeing him in the area, then talking about harmless matters - books and the weather and local wildlife and history. Several months of that had caused the pretty girl to begin to trust him. One might even compare his actions to winning the trust of a shy wild creature.
Being a sympathetic ear with her troubles in school and the follies of the other young mortals at her school had caused her youthful infatuation with Ethan to fade away. He'd been delighted when it was replaced by a crush on himself. This had caused a few more changes in his behavior.
A few months of watching her with a tiny smile, of falling quiet when her words turned to dating - what a strange way to refer to courtships - and parties. A few flowers and trinkets left on her windowsill... It hadn’t taken long before his actions had borne fruit. She had given herself to him. Given him her body, begging him to touch her, to teach her about pleasure and passion. To make her a woman.
A few months, close to a year even were not that much time to a vampire of his age. Not when he'd seen centuries pass, when he'd seen nations form, change and fall. When whole continents had been discovered and made part of the civilized world. Not even a year of slow steps and she’d given herself to him, sharing herself in stolen, secret moments. In her youth, she had found the idea of a secret lover to be delightful, especially knowing that her parents wouldn’t approve.
He'd wanted her, and he had taken the necessary actions to have her. Eventually, when her fascination with the idea of a secret love affair had begun to fade, he'd moved her into the house where he'd been staying. He'd whispered that he wanted to keep her close to him, to be able to savor her presence more often, not mere stolen moments that she could sneak away.
Perhaps he spoiled her. He bought her whatever clothing she wanted, and pretty jewelry and shoes to go with the many outfits. Pretty trinkets, the newest technological things that she wanted, though he still thought that most of that wasn't what he considered real music. He even bought her an automobile, a safe means of transportation.
Petrus loved the way she smiled when he touched her, the way she responded when he teased her body in all the ways he'd learned to inspire passion and pleasure. Loved the little smile and sparkle in her eyes when he promised that he would always keep her with him. The tempting way she blushed when he told her she was more beautiful every day.
He doubted that she believed him when he told her that she was more beautiful now. Another human would probably just be lying, or deluded by their emotions. Despite that, he meant every word.
Just as he would enjoy seeing the way time continued to touch her. He would watch as her skin became slightly less firm and began to show lines from certain expressions. He would watch as her golden hair began turning silver. He would be there as her days became less active, less frantic rushing to squeeze every last drop from each of her limited number of days and slowed to savoring the time that she had left.
He would stay with her when time began to weaken her body. When her vision and hearing were no longer as keen. When her movements slowed and stiffened.
She would still be his sweet, precious mortal.
And when the time came that she could no longer walk the grounds of the house and meander along the forest paths, he would keep her in the house, sitting near a warm fire for her last few nights. She would not be alone even unto death.
Even then, he would keep her close. She would remain in the room filled with her cherished possessions. He would watch as time wrought rapid changes to her body. As the flesh withered and fell away from her bones, as her hair fell into loose threads on the pillow. He would still keep her near him. Still count her as beautiful.
Just like all the other mortal lovers he'd kept.
end.
written October 25, 2012