creative writing piece from a year ago [Untitled]

Since when did daytime begin to sting you? The slightest touch of golden sunlight on your pale skin makes you glisten, a distraction from the cries that come out of your throat. I find your glowing appeal and poignant cries beautiful, enough to instill an overwhelming urge in my body, for it wishes to embrace yours as I gaze upon the sight of sunlight painting your skin. 

Your eyes pierce through me. the very same eyes whose irises you told me were poured into with burning wine. One single look at you and it seems as though your eyes savoured it. They must have. My eyes do not deceive me, I see the fire burning. Although I wish they did, then there would be no need for me to convince myself that the fire isn’t embracing your body before I could. Is it so selfish of me to if you could stop it from wrapping you whole? 

The teardrops trickling from your cheeks down to your jaw match the color of your eyes. The frown-like grin you show reveals teeth that were sharpened because of another’s not very long ago, so you’ve told. But was it torturous? Were your cries filled with anguish? You never told me. Now I’m forced by my beating heart to listen to the clamour coming from a living dead. Curiosity is bleeding through me, but impulse is filling me back up. 

I’m lifting my right foot off the ground, placing it forward, followed by my left foot doing the same, and repeating the pattern until you’re merely inches away from where I stand. My knees drop, and my hands immediately hold you close, shaking. What a blessing it is to have a better look at what makes you breathtakingly inhuman, I thought. Alas, I examine your pitiful eyes and watch as blood drops slide off your teeth and tongue. 

As if on cue, I mindlessly tilt my head to the side, baring my neck just for you. Feast on it. While the fire is setting you ablaze, let my blood extinguish it. Pour the same burning wine into my irises and give me teeth like yours, transforming my urge into thirst. My murmurs try to calm you but your whimpers laced with fear leaves me no choice but to pull you in, even at the cost of your pleasant bite transforming me into your kin. You’ve become nothing but a fool, and I’m no better. A chuckle echoes out my throat as I feel your arms tightening around me, perhaps a bit too tight. With my lips on your forehead, and our arms wreathing the other’s body, the fire crackles. 

Turn me into what you loathe–into what you hated but became. Impart on me what tore your heart apart and the agony that came with it. Let us be one of the same as we near our demise.