Blood X Macha

BLOOD X MACHA

"Go on," she hummed, her red eyes scanning every vein on my body, her voice dripping with hunger. "Just relax, won’t you? Let me savor this moment." The subtle curl of her lips betrayed her impatience; clearly, she wasn't pleased with how stubborn her prey was.

I shut my eyes, trying to block her out, and began to sing softly, hoping to distract myself. The melody flowed from my lips like a lifeline: "Where your destiny lies, dancing on the blades, you set my heart on fire. Don’t stop us now, the moment of truth, we were born to make history…"

She chuckled softly, her expression shifting to amusement as a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Keep singing," she ordered, taking a deliberate step closer, her eyes locked onto mine, unblinking.

"Why would I?" I countered, keeping my voice even.

Her amusement quickly vanished, replaced by a flash of irritation. In one swift motion, she grabbed my collar, yanking me toward her. Her crimson eyes flared as her fangs hovered dangerously close to my neck. "Keep singing," she growled, her breath hot against my skin.

But I didn't flinch. I'd dealt with crazy chicks before. "Not happening," I replied, grinning as I reached up and pulled both her cheeks apart, stretching them like rubber bands. "Heha heha ho heha heha ho," I laughed.

She blinked, releasing my collar and stepping back, rubbing her now flushed cheeks. "Who do you think you are, laughing at me? You mere human!" she huffed, crossing her arms and pouting, her glare sharp but slightly wounded.

I shrugged, smirking. "You’re lame. You think you're some kinda big shot?"

"Watch your mouth around me, mortal," she snapped, her voice sharp as a blade.

I raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. "Why don’t you watch your own mouth in the mirror? Your fangs are yellowish. Do you even brush them?"

Her face twisted with a mix of indignation and uncertainty. "My fangs are not dirty!" she shot back, but then sighed, her shoulders sagging a little. "Okay, maybe a little bit," she muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her sheepishness, but she quickly turned back, her expression hardening again. "How about I use my mouth to drain your—"

"Whoa, whoa!" I cut her off, holding my hands up defensively. "I’m not that kinda guy."

She glared at me, flustered. "Damn degenerate human. I meant blood. I’m a vampire!"

I chuckled. "Oh, so you just want my blood? You should’ve said so from the start."

She paused, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she studied me. "Don’t play with me, human. What are you scheming?" she asked, her voice laced with doubt.

I shrugged again, and replied nonchalantly as if offering her some change. "I mean, it’s just some blood."

Her eyes widened in disbelief, her body tense. "You’re… different. Most mortals urinate themselves and run when they find out what I am. You're not trying to trick me, are you?"

"Nope."

She hesitated, the tension between us thick, but then her stomach let out a low growl. Her pride cracked just a bit as she sighed, stepping closer, her red eyes locking onto mine once more. She gently placed her hand under my chin, tilting my head to the side, exposing the vein in my neck. "This might hurt a little. Be a good boy and stay still for me, okay?" Her voice softened, almost coaxing.

"Wait, hold on. Not from my neck."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "From where then?"

I held up my arm. "From here."

Top of Form

“Arm?” She blinked before sighing “Very well.”

She gently grabbed my arm, lifting it as she examined the veins, she could see them from my pale skin.

"Hold still." Her voice was low, almost a whisper, as she placed two fingers delicately on my arm. She leaned down, her fangs were mere inches from pressing into my skin.

“Wait, hold on!” I jerked my arm away just as her teeth were about to make contact.

Her eyes flared with impatience. "What now?!"

I gave her a deadpan look. "I can't let some random girl who chews God-knows-what all day, drink from me directly. It's way too unhygienic."

She blinked, momentarily stunned. "Huh?! Then what am I supposed to do?" Her annoyance was palpable, anger simmering beneath her words.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I don’t know. Use a syringe or something."

"A syringe?" she echoed, incredulous.

"Yeah. Use it to extract my blood, pour it into a glass, and drink it like a civilized person."

She rolled her eyes dramatically, clearly unimpressed, but she couldn’t argue. "And remember," I added, "not more than 250 ml."

"That’s way too low," she protested, but after a long sigh, she begrudgingly nodded in agreement.

After a while she brought the syringe and extracted it up with exactly 250ml of blood from my arm. After that, she placed the syringe down and went to the fridge to grab a glass, pouring the blood into it.

Just as she was about to take a sip, I interrupted, “Hey, do you have macha?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “Um… yes, I do.”

“Great. How about you pour me a glass? I mean, it’s your house, and here you are drinking something without offering your guest anything. Don’t you have any manners? You really are uncivilized.”

She stood there, speechless for a solid minute, her mouth slightly open as if processing my demand. Then, with a sigh, she shook her head and muttered something under her breath before disappearing into the kitchen.

A few moments later, she returned with a glass of macha and handed it to me, still looking a little bewildered.

“Now that’s more like it,” I said with a grin, raising my glass. I clinked it against her glass of blood. “Cheers.”

The vampire stared at me, her eyes narrowing as the glasses clinked together. For a moment, she looked utterly dumbfounded, as if she couldn't decide whether to be insulted or amused. Her lips twitched, and she let out a low growl, but it wasn’t threatening—it was more like an exasperated sigh.

She took a sip from her glass, watching me closely. “You know, most people would be terrified in your position.”

“Terrified of whom? You? You’re just a goth chick with a narcissistic complex.”

Her eyes flared. “Yes, you should be scared, because I could drain every drop of blood from you without a second thought." She crossed her arms and grinned, as if trying to intimidate me.

I leaned back, unfazed. "Are you stupid? If you did that, I’d die, and then where would your next meal come from?"

She paused, trying to think of a retort. "I could find another source."

"Oh really?" I stood up from the couch, making a show of heading for the door. "Then go ahead, find yourself a new blood donor. I’m out."

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked genuinely alarmed. She let out a frustrated growl and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine! My fangs are dirty, and I’m not going to drain you. There, happy?"

I smirked. "Much better. Know your place."

“Hmph!” She huffed, turning away, but I caught the faintest twitch of a smile as she tried to hide her annoyance.

I leaned back into the couch, feeling the soft, plush fabric under me. The room was massive, with high ceilings and a chandelier hanging overhead. Large windows were covered with heavy curtains, and the floor was so shiny I could see my reflection. Paintings and statues were everywhere, like decorations in a museum. It was quiet, almost too quiet.

“This is a huge mansion,” I said, glancing around. “You live here alone?”

“Of course.” She shot me a glance, her eyes sparkling with something sharp and teasing. “Are you jealous?” Her voice was taunting, playful. “Well, you must be. I can sense the poverty oozing from your face. Kekeke.”

“Wow, so funny. Your jokes are as good as your fangs.” I leaned into the sarcasm, playing it off as usual before letting the honesty slip out. “Yes, I am a little jealous.”

For just a second, her playful mask faltered. She seemed genuinely surprised. She sat beside me on the couch, leaving a single seat of space between us, her posture a little more relaxed now. “Would you like to live here?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, and I let myself consider it before responding. “Nah, I can’t. I’m not rich enough to pay rent for this place. I’m just a college student.”

“Rent?” She let out a soft chuckle, her amusement returning. “You think I would lower myself to ask a mere human for rent?” She leaned in slightly, her voice taking on a teasing edge again. “Your blood is tasty, that’s good enough. In fact, I would love it if you stayed with me. You could be a good source of entertainment.”

Something in her tone softened, and I looked at her for a moment. There was no manipulation in her smile this time. No hidden motives, just simple, sincere words. They shouldn’t have meant much. But to me, they did.

I’ve been alone for a long time. My parents died in a car accident when I was three. Then I was raised by an aunt and uncle who quickly grew tired of the burden I became. They were good to me at first, but as their finances worsened, so did their patience. They started fighting, and I became the problem. Eventually, they sent me to an orphanage, and I’ve been on my own ever since.

I dreamed big once—fancied myself living in a mansion like this, driving a Mercedes. I thought if I studied hard enough, I could make it all come true. But the world has a way of cutting down dreams. No matter how hard I tried, I was always just… mediocre. The kid who was once a ‘prodigy’ fell behind in everything—sports, grades, chess. The football team dropped me. My grades slipped. Even in chess, where I used to shine, I couldn’t keep up.

When I was in high-school, I moved out and rented a tiny apartment. I got a part time job as a waiter in a street-bakery, earning just enough to pay my rent and college fee.

Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “Hey, human. I’m speaking to you.”

I blinked and shook off the haze. “So when can I move in?”

“You agreed? That fast?” She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. “Some shameless, prideless freeloader you are.”

I shrugged, smirking back.

“Can you at least cook?” She asked.

“Of course I can,” I answered with pride before adding, “But I’m not cooking for you.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I’m giving you my blood. It’s only fair you feed me well with your cooking. Besides,” I leaned forward, lowering my voice, “I’m sure you wouldn’t want your precious food source dying from blood loss, would you?”

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, clearly defeated. “Tch. Whatever.”

“And besides, do you even need food? I mean, You drink blood, eww.” I teased.

“Don’t ‘eww’ me,” she shot back. “I eat for the taste.”

I grinned, leaning closer to her, closing the gap between us. The warmth of the couch seemed to contrast the coolness of her demeanor. “What are you doing?” she asked, surprised.

“I feel lightheaded. Mind if I rest here for a bit?” I said, dramatically resting my head on her shoulder.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Stop being dramatic. You drank macha, not some wine.”

I gently placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. “Shh… kiss me.”

Her face turned bright red as she stammered, “W-what? Nonsense! I would never lower myself to kiss a mortal like you! Where did that even come from?”

Leaning closer, my voice dropped to a low, teasing whisper in her ear. “If you do, I’ll give you 150ml extra blood today.”

She froze, caught off guard, clearly torn. “I don’t want this. But… 150ml extra blood… I... I... fine.” She sighed, defeated. “But this is a one-time thing, mortal,” she added quickly, as though convincing herself more than me.

I watched with amusement as she reluctantly leaned in, gulping as though preparing for something entirely new to her. It was almost too entertaining. Her hand hesitantly reached up to hold my chin, her eyes fluttering shut, her face flushed crimson. She leaned in, ready to press her lips against mine when—

A sudden laugh erupted from me. “Heha heha ho heha heha ho! Aww, just how desperate are you for a kiss? What a naïve little virgin you are!”

Her eyes shot open, and she recoiled, mortified. “What? You—You were just messing with me?!” She turned away, hiding her face, clearly embarrassed and flustered.

I tried to stifle my laughter but couldn’t help it. After a few moments of silence, she finally asked, voice low, “Then… what about my 150ml of blood?”

I smirked. “Heh, forget it. I never planned on giving it to you anyway.”

Her eyes widened, and to my surprise, they began to well up with tears. I blinked, taken aback. I never expected a bloodthirsty vampire to look so vulnerable, so... adorable.

“Hey, are you crying? What are you, some kind of baby?” I asked sarcastically, but this time, I immediately regretted it.

She actually started sniffling, her voice trembling. “Why does... why does everyone always lie to me?”

“Huh?” I exclaimed, completely thrown off by her soft, hurt tone.

“Hey, it was just a joke.” I scratched the back of my head awkwardly. “Um... ah... fine!” I sighed. “Stop making that face, okay?”

I grabbed the syringe from the table and extracted 150ml of blood from my arm, handing it to her. She stared at the glass for a moment, and as her tears dried, giving rise to a small, genuine smile across her white face—one that was surprisingly sweet.

As she slowly sipped the blood, I instinctively reached out, placing my hand on her soft, crimson hair, gently patting it. She glanced up at me, her red eyes holding mine for a moment, but she stayed silent, as if silently appreciating the comfort.

But in my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about her tears from earlier. What was that about? Maybe her life had been rougher than I had imagined. I mean, how lonely must it be, living for centuries, seeing people come and go? She might have been betrayed countless times.

There was something strangely familiar in her sadness, something that tugged at me in ways I hadn’t expected. I wanted to know more about her. What made her laugh? What was her hobby? Did she have a favorite TV show? What food did she like apart from blood? Why did she say everyone lied to her? What had happened in her long life to leave her so guarded, so fragile beneath the surface? And the most importantly—what was even her name? I didn’t even know that yet.

But those questions could wait. I didn’t want to ruin this quiet, precious moment between us. After all, I was staying here now, with her. We had time—plenty of it. I smiled to myself, already thinking about the days to come, about all the things I’d learn and the moments we’d share.

THE END