Mila
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This — K de la Renta
🕑 Added 2024-03-05 22:50:23 +0000 UTC“Thousands.”
A laugh escapes you as you register the word that’s fallen from B’s mouth. “Hundreds, B.”
The werewolf rolls their eyes. “Sure, but if I say that K’s thousands of years old then it pisses them off even more.”
“And we want that because…?”
A light smile curls over B’s mouth. “I might as well live up to fantasy and annoy vampires, no?”
“I suppose so.”
There’s a pause between the two of you. You’re sitting across from each other, at a small corner cafe, one that’s scenic and quiet. The kind of place that opens its doors for when a moment with your best friend is needed, for when it’s absolutely necessary to feel a dosage of platonic love and normalcy.
“Although, now you and K are together, I suppose that’s officially your job now.”
You’re sure B knows of the butterflies that erupt in your stomach at the mention of the vampire, even more so at the reminder of a relationship with them. Your facial expression gives it away, the same way B has the gleaming glint in their eyes, indicating their own happiness at the two of you.
You bring your drink closer towards you. “If you ask them, they’d definitely tell you I’m annoying.”
B shakes their head at your joke. You’re expecting the slightest of chuckles to fall from them, the briefest of smiles. But it doesn’t come, instead there’s a serious expression on their face. One that has them forgetting the sandwich and hot drink they ordered, the same meal sitting in front of them.
“You don’t actually think K would say that, do you?”
You blink, all before you shrug your shoulders. “They probably would but—“
They shake their head harshly. “If anyone asked, the first thing that would come from K’s mouth is how much they adore you,” B says with no hesitation, candour to their words. “Granted, admitting to feelings isn’t their strong point but…you, you mean more to K than anyone.”
It’s not the description you were going for. Not an answer you, at all, expected—but it’s an answer that fills you up inside. One that’s felt by the butterflies in your stomach, and the rush of heat that rushes over your skin whenever a certain vampire is close by. And, probably what engulfs you most is that one of your true friends is able to gather all of that.
It’s B, of all people though. The person who understands emotions and feelings more than anyone, some who can point them out without a second thought. But, what you and K have for each other must be obvious enough.
Your mouth opens to respond, to say something, all until you hear the sound of heavy boots. You watch as B’s dark brown eyes flit away from you and land on a figure behind you.
“Have I mentioned that I fucking hate the cold weather?” a voice asks, one that’s all too familiar. The touch is something comforting too when the lightest touch of their hand rests against your shoulder.
“Speak of the devil,” B says playfully at K’s presence.
You look up to see K standing next to your table. Their topaz eyes fall to you, and in that brief moment, a softness enters their eyes. A small look that’s asking you a thousand questions; ‘are you okay?’ ‘how’s your day been?’ ‘have you missed me because I sure have missed you?’
The vampire brings a hand towards your face, their thumb rests on your cheek, and as the cliche states, it’s practically like you’re the only two people around.
Much to B’s realisation.
“It’s probably not your beverage of choice,” B murmurs as they get up from their seat, “but feel free to have my drink.”
Your brows furrow. “You’re leaving?”
They shrug lightly. “There’s still shopping for me to do in the city centre anyway.” They nod towards K. “Plus, I’d think the eight thousand year old vampire would need a seat.”
A laugh escapes you, much to K’s dismay as a hint of their fangs are on display and shown in B’s direction. “You’re an ass,” the Puerto Rican murmurs, annoyed.
B reaches down for their bag. “That’s not the kindest thing to say to someone who’s been keeping your partner company for the past few hours.”
—
B was right. A hot drink is definitely not K’s beverage of choice. One time it might’ve been. A long, long time ago when they were human, but alas, their life is different now. But not for the worst necessarily, not when they’ve met you.
“You’re in a knitted jumper,” you point out, your fingers reaching over to fiddle with K’s sleeve.
The corner of their mouth twitches upwards. It’s an attire that many don’t see them in, when their main wardrobe is surrounded of black, red and burgundy, beneath all that; there’s practically a whole other world. Less denim. Less diamond earrings. A much softer and less ‘rough around the edges’ world.
“I am,” they mumble with their wrist on show now, their light brown skin getting a ray of sunlight. K desperately hopes your fingers will brush against it, and when their wish is granted, comfort suddenly takes over.
“Hm, I like it.”
“Yeah?” K asks teasingly, leaning forward slightly. “No other compliments for me?”
Your eyes roll playfully. “No, not if you fish for them like that.”
You lean forward too, elbows on the table and your eyes staring into topaz ones with pupils that dilate at the sight of you.
K’s fingers rest under your chin. Not touching it, just hovering there as if to ask whether it’s okay to touch you. There’s a knowing look between the both of you, one where words don’t need to be uttered but a single feeling is shared. Telepathic, almost.
You lower your head a little and make the connection with their hand. A simple action that answered K’s internal question. With your head resting against their hand, your eyes glance between the deep dimples in their cheeks.
“You have a nice smile, I suppose,” you utter, only forcing K to smile wider, in a way that’s shyer than either of you would’ve expected.
K’s thumb creeps up to trace the outline of your bottom lip. A feather light touch that remains a little after it’s happened. “Charming.”
You pout. “Others would say thank you.”
K arches a brow. “Others would’ve kissed you by now.”
“You can do that too,” you say quickly, all too quickly, enough for K to chuckle and lean forward that bit more.
Their forehead rests against yours, and you expect them to close the gap between your mouths. Embrace you is a kiss that’s soft, passionate, something you’ve craved the entire day—all of the above. But, their eyes close for a brief moment.
“Thank you,” they murmur quietly, practically whispering the words.
Your hands cup their cheeks, and despite the cold temperature of them, K doesn’t wince. “For what?”
“Just…I don’t know. This.”
It’s a broad reference, and you begin to think whether it’s being with them at this café, or for complimenting their sweater and smile, or…
“Just, thank you for you. I’m shit, really shit at expressing it all, but I mean it,” K finishes.
And whilst you were the one expecting to receive something to resemble true love’s kiss. You’re the one giving it to K instead.
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