The fridge is providing the soundtrack as I stare at the ceiling. Warm hum from under a cold box. Outside a streetlight lights up the trees as they prepare for winter, emptying their leaves. The wind catches the screens and pops them against the glass-pa-tup, pa-tup, on and on... into the dark.

On the nightstand, 8 chapters into a paperback-on hold. A cup of cold coffee, breakfast? lunch? A napkin with remnants of an orange. Dried up seeds and strings curled up into knots. Remnants. Things left behind, evidence that there was life here. Close my eyes and listen for more sounds- steps on the stairs? The reassurance of keys thrown on a counter or the clink of ice into glasses? No, there is none of that. Just the fridge. Keeping my food chilled.

Upstairs I am at room temperature.

Our love was one lived in darkness. Every night I would come to your bed and you'd turn the lights off before I could barely get a look at you. Oh, I saw you plenty of times in the light, but never when our bodies were moving together, beating as one, and never when my lips wrapped through yours, making haunting circles of kisses.

No, we were so very proper at day. Little touches here and there, your arm about me as we walked, but nothing that made my heart beat fast like the things we did in the dark.

I loved the light of morning those couple of times we still lay naked by then. I loved to look at your hands and your lips. They attracted me in so many ways. I think I decided to try this affair the night we sat in that restaurant, surrounded by friends, the memory of your kiss some weeks ago still lingering with me, and all I could do was stare at the loveliness that was your mouth till I couldn't see anyone else, and the table grew quiet to my deaf ears, as I sat there immersed in your lips. And your lips and your hands made such words...

Now this affair is over and I try to think of what you looked like. Sometimes I can't do it. There are distinct little memories here and there, portraits in tiny vignettes. I picture your mouth from that night in that little restaurant. I can see the smile you gave me one night before I kissed you, and then darted around to see if anyone was looking. But all my memories are touch and sound, sounds emitted from touching and the feel of your hair in my hands. I wake in the dark humming hours of the night and see your ghost still in my memory, no brighter through the darkness than you had ever been in my life, peered at always through layers and layers of night. I try to connect those sounds and those feelings with my visions of you by day. But our love was one lived in darkness. And that is how it shall stay in my memory.

Alex walked sedately down the path towards the town. He could only see pin pricks of lights between the trees. The air was still and the sky clear, and he could feel the light of a thousand, frozen stars prick at his back. Though he was aware that the air was cold he did not feel it. Other things preyed on his mind, but he began to whistle as he walked a jaunty walk down the gravel path.

An old man walked by with a dog trotting several feet in front of him. Alex tipped his cap at the man, who nodded back and continued on his way. Nostrils flaring, Alex skipped the path to jog a few steps to another which wandered towards a cluster of bushes that rose up a hill.

A young girl, not more than seventeen was walking along the path. A light summer dress could be seen beneath the large coat she had on. Alex smiled a cheerful hello.

"Hi, I'm Emily." Her golden locks bounced on her shoulders and his fingers flicked against his side. She breathed in deeply and sighed. "It is a wonderful night, isn't it?"

"Indeed, I'm Alex, I'm new in town."

"I did not think I had seen you before."

"Do you always walk out alone?" he asked, his tongue sliding over his lips in a silky smooth motion. Emily didn't notice and continued her cheerful walk, allowing Alex to fall in step beside her.

"Oh, very often. Papa likes us to get a lot of fresh air."

"Would you let me walk with you?"

"There is a small hill over there that I want to walk up, you can walk with me to there."

Together they continued in silence. Her faint footfalls rung out loudly to him, though his feet of course made barely any noise on the dirt path. The reached the edge of the short bushes, which blocked out the faint lights of the town. Alex could tell that no one else was close, the old man had hurried on his way, eager to return home to a seat beside a warm fire. Eagerness flashed inside Alex as he reached out a hand and grabbed Emily by the wrist.

"Wha–? Excuse me, please let go of me." Oh, the audacity of her, thought Alex as he grinned wildly at her.

"You're perfect," he almost purred. Against her resistance he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing it delicately. "I'm glad I found you." She gasped out a scream as he secured her other wrist. "Now, now, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you for very long, and I'm very good at what I do." He put both her wrists in one of his hands and tightened his grasp around her.

With no pretended gentleness he grabbed her neck, pushing her hair out of the way. His thumb pressed against her pulse, his nails cutting into her spine. With tremendous strength he pulled her in towards him, and he forcefully pressed his mouth against the base of her neck. Swiftly his teeth pierced through the skin and she let out a gargled scream.

Warm blood filled his mouth as he flicked his tongue over the wound. Alex sucked at her, the skin of her neck tearing under the pressure, blood gushing past his lips down her shoulder and chest. Blood ran down his hand where his nails cut deeply into her smooth skin.

Gradually he let his hands around her wrists relax as her face turned pale, her eyes open in terror but unable to do anything. The muscles in her legs and arms fell limp, but his hand tight on her neck kept her upright as he drained every last glimmer of blood from her.

With a clump he let her fall to the ground. Satisfied, he licked the remaining blood from his fingers and lips. A stickiness clung to his collar, which he noticed with a complacent grin. He stared up at the half-moon.

"Thank you, Emily," he said loudly to the stars. A breeze brushed through the leaves on the bushes and he turned to make his way back home.

18