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[the-insomniac-emporium]

Words of Prey {Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU} Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language + brief references to sexual exploits Warnings: None AU Description: People have the first words their soulmate will say to them written on their wrist/forearm. Most people chose a specific quote (referred to as their "soul phrase") that they use every time they meet somebody new. Summary: Daniela has been dreaming of this day far, far too long to let anything ruin it, even if that means she has to beg for a second chance. On one hand, you have no interest in letting her court you. But on the other, you know that the universe has other plans, and you can only fight the inevitable for so long. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Of All Your Dreams

Chapter 2: The Dreaded Dawn

“Of all my dreams… I’ve come to live my nightmare.” The words had fallen from your lips like anchors, snagging Daniela’s on the way down, tugging her smile into an open-mouthed pout. Nothing could have prepared her for this ache. For decades she had admired the words on her forearm, believing that her soulmate would consider her a dream come true, something almost too good to be real. How could she have predicted the harsh addition you now presented her with? That was the cruelest part of soul bonds; no one had context for the words on their skin until they were said and done.

But who could blame you for your cruelty, given what Daniela had said to you? All her life she had yearned for a soulmate to devote herself to, and all your life, you had dreaded the day the universe would offer you up as a distraction. A temporary infatuation. A blink of attraction, a silver participation badge, as shiny as it was insulting. Just that evening you had seen proof that you weren’t Daniela’s first choice.

She hadn’t given you a second thought until you were the only person in sight.

“Don’t do this to me,” she murmurs, with a slight stutter. Her eyebrows are angled down, and the first hint at teardrops form in her eyes, but your gaze remains locked on her blood stained lips. Breath hitching in her throat, she raises one hand to caress your cheek. Again she whispers, faster this time, all traces of her earlier confidence going up in smoke. “This is supposed to be perfect. We’re supposed to be in love, immediately. We have both been longing for this meeting for as long as we can remember, have we not? Don’t break the spell, please.”

“You broke the fucking spell as soon as you opened your mouth,” you snapped. At last you make eye contact with her again, and instantly find yourself overwhelmed. An intensity lingers in her gaze, drawing equal strength from residual anger and the yearning she felt for your affection. That anger flares up for a split second as you speak, in sync with the twitching of Daniela’s nostrils. One of her hands, which has so far been pressed against the wall to hold her up, pulls back to her side, clenching into a fist. For a few moments you had forgotten the reality of your established dynamic with her, but now you are once again fully aware of how strong (and volatile) she is. It is a wonder that she manages to restrain herself at all.

“I did not know- I could not have known!” Voice growing louder with each word, she no longer bothers to disguise her despair, fully embracing the cracking and wavering. Although something deep and wretched in her chest cries out in favor of violence, all she can think to do is cup your head between both of her hands; she has never had a better reason to control herself than she does now. “We can start over, play things out the way they were meant to go. Close your eyes for me. Just for a few moments, please?” Her thumb traces a soft circle across your cheek.

Gulping, you do as she says, hoping that complying would make this ordeal end sooner rather than later. Immediately afterwards you feel Daniela’s touch fade away, the air filling with the sound of thousands of tiny wings beating. Every muscle in your body goes tense, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and you can feel your heart pounding away. To make matters worse, blood is still dripping down your neck from where Daniela bit you. Slowly the liquid trails onto your collarbone, pooling there, sure to be a pain to clean up. Oddly enough, the wound itself does not ache- at least not until you feel a feather-light touch against it. You cannot bear to be blind for any longer.

Reforming against you, Daniela eyes your injury with concern, projecting a sense of false innocence. Then her gaze shifts to meet your own, bright eyes conveying a softness you did not think her capable of experiencing. Somehow the sensation of her fingertips against your wound becomes almost pleasant. She’s cautious with her touch, enough pressure to dampen the bleeding, but ensuring that she doesn’t pinch any nerves. When she finally speaks, there is a certain raspiness to her tone (undoubtedly caused by her earlier crying) that threatens to make your knees weak.

“You are far too grand to suffer like this- let me ease your pain,” she says, before letting out a shaky breath. A pause hangs heavy in the air between you, as she eyes you expectantly, waiting with bated breath to hear your soul phrase; but this time without the added misery. I never agreed to this, you think, never said I would give you another chance. Your mind lingers on your disappointment. Thoughts get caught on the way she had initially dismissed you, the lack of interest she displayed, and the heartache you had compiled over years of dreading this meeting.

Something in her soul reflected a piece of your own. Second choice, never the favored child, feeling doomed to a life without love. Daniela just didn’t wear her hopelessness on her sleeve, hadn’t let it go as deep as her bones yet. In this moment, you did not love her, but soulmates rarely experienced love at first sight. With the way she looks at you, a part of your heart experiences the barest shreds of hope for the first time in years.

It was nice to have her affection.

“Of all my dreams, this is the one that comes true… I dare not blink, lest I open my eyes to find myself tucked in bed, a guest of sweet slumber and midnight musing,” you reply, only slightly hesitant. Admittedly the words feel cumbersome on your tongue, but you manage the weight well enough, to your soulmate’s clear delight. Not even three full seconds pass before her lips press against your own, fixed in a brilliant smile. The contact is thankfully brief. Still, you find your cheeks growing.

“This is more than a dream, my dearest,” Daniela chimes. One arm moves to wrap around your waist, and she begins guiding you down the hall, movements deliberately slow (to make this last even a single minute longer). “This is the start of our love story, the first chapter in a timeless tale of true romance. None of your dreams could ever prepare you for the pleasure to come.” A smirk accompanies her final words, along with the perking of one of her brows. Again your cheeks feel a rush of heat; that is to say that they grow hotter, as you were still recovering from the peck she had given you. Part of you felt dirty because of that. Because you were giving in to Daniela, if only in the most miniscule of ways, entirely involuntarily.

“I am sure that you will surpass all my expectations,” you eventually say, biting down any and all less polite additions. To be fair, you are telling the truth. After all… the bar was low enough to be a tripping hazard in hell. You just hoped that, somewhere along the way, Daniela could give you a glimpse of heaven.

-----

A pleasant mix of relief and surprise well up in your chest when you discover where exactly Daniela is leading you: One of the castle’s larger bathrooms, fit for royalty. At the center of the room is a massive tub, easily capable of fitting several adult humans, with built-in benches along two sides. It was assuredly the most modern appliance you had seen within the centuries old structure. Based on the brightly colored curtains, assortment of scented candles, plush towels, and the abundance of rose petals scattered about, you had to assume that this was Daniela’s personal bathroom. Which did make you wonder if she had chosen the bathtub for any specific ‘purposes’/ulterior motives.

‘Twas safe to say that your sense of relief grew even stronger when she pulled you towards the sink instead. Of course, it was also safe to say that your heart skipped three beats when she lifted you up onto the counter without warning, as casually as one might take a deep breath first thing in the morning. She made it seem natural. But by the time you’ve processed the sudden shift in position, her attention has already been diverted to the cabinet beneath the sink.

Low humming reaches your ears, barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of Daniela rummaging through the cupboard, initially seeming like the drone of fluorescent lights. It’s not until your soulmate pauses her search that you notice an underlying melody to the noise, and you realize that she’s the source. Part of the song starts to feel… familiar. Hauntingly so. But then the music abruptly halts, as Daniela retrieves a first aid kit, propping it up on the counter with an easy grin.

“Do you have much experience with patching up injuries?” You ask, knowing that the unsaid portion of your question (as opposed to causing them) was well implied. Despite that, Daniela laughs in response, affectionately resting her hand on your shoulder. No words follow her laughter, however, just the ‘pop’ of the first aid kit being opened. “Lady Daniela?... Please, tell me that you’ve done this before. If need be, I can certainly do it myself. This is hardly-” this time your soulmate reacts with a scoff.

“If there is one thing that I have learned from my dalliances with people less important than you, it is how to bandage love bites,” Daniela explains, gesturing to the side with one hand, wetting a rag in the sink with the other. Once more you watch as her lips twist up into a self-satisfied smile, playful yet dangerous. Gods, you think, how many women have fallen prey to that grin? To those teeth? Your thoughts are quickly interrupted by an increasingly familiar touch. “For future reference,” Daniela starts to say, dabbing the cloth against your neck as she does, “my sisters and I are, hmm, built to take blood. You would have to ask Bela for the exact details, but our bites are never lethal unless we intend them to be. Something in our saliva, I think? Helps stop the bleeding. Do you know what that means?”

She pulls the cloth away from you, leaning her face close to your neck, warm breath extra tickly against your damp skin. Try as you might, nothing more than awkward stuttering leaves your mouth. So Daniela moves even closer, until her lips are tingling against you. Then she whispers, voice smooth, pulling out all the stops to make your heart beat as fast as possible.

“It means that I can kiss your wounds better.” Without further ado, she ‘offers’ up a demonstration, placing an open mouthed kiss on your neck. It’s silly, in a way, considering that the bleeding had stopped five minutes ago. Then again, this wasn’t actually about healing you- not entirely, at least. To her credit, she does seem to be thorough in her efforts. By the time she pulls away, she had licked up what little blood the cloth had failed to remove, and a warmth was starting to pool in the pit of your stomach. Perhaps out of some misguided (read: placebo-esque) interpretation of her words, you swear that the bite mark was ever-so-slightly numb. No more pain. Merely… pleasure. Noticing the tint of your cheeks, as well as the shakiness of your breath, Daniela cups your chin and gives you a loving look. “Now, isn’t this wonderful?”

“Bandages would have worked perfectly fine,” you stutter, instinctively turning your face away from her. Out of the corner of your eye you can see her start to pout. A nervousness builds up in your chest, mind flashing back to what happened at dinner. So what if she had yet to lash out at you? There was still an inherent risk with disappointing her. Between the concept of her inevitable bond with you and the possible threat of Dimitrescu style violence, it was becoming rather difficult to remain neutral. Less than half an hour with her and she was already breaking down your walls. I need to find a way to slow this down, you think. Maybe I can find a way to balance her happiness with my lack of interest? “I… I am grateful, Lady Daniela.”

“We are soulmates. I would do anything for you, and one day you will feel the same way. Until then, I will shower you with endless devotion, relentlessly, and you will shiver under my attention,” she promises, puffing her chest out in pride. Forcing yourself to smile, you give her a short nod, hoping to satisfy her without actively encouraging her. “Now… you need to rest. And where better to do so than in my arms?” Without waiting for a reply, she pulls you off of the counter, into her embrace. The air begins to shake around you, buzzing with intimate intent.

“I would enjoy that, if not for the sake of my roommates,” you say, words tumbling forth in a rush, desperate to delay a night in her quarters. You have no doubt that she would respect your wishes to not engage in certain behavior, were you to sleep in her bed, but even simply cuddling with her was not something you desired. Thankfully, she hesitates long enough for you to elaborate. “All that they know is that an argument took place earlier today, and that I have yet to return to my room. I cannot bear the thought of them fearing the worst for me. Please, Daniela, allow me to ease their worries… and give me time to process our bond.”

Silence follows. Your only comfort is the fact that the air had stopped buzzing, with Daniela content to remain in her human form. Alas, her expression is nigh unreadable, only hardly expressing a sense of great consideration. Though she only takes fifteen or so seconds to make a decision, it feels as if you were left suspended for an eternity. At last she speaks, adopting a comforting tone, rubbing soft circles into your back as she does.

“Very well, dearest. Come morning, we will reunite, and I will cherish you all the more for these missing hours.” Internally, you can only pray that you will have a clear plan by then. If not… you would not last a single week against the inevitable.