Bathroom Break

As the evening wore on, the main course came and went, and l thoughts soon turned towards the direction of desert.

"Would you excuse me a moment?" Ava said, dabbing a stray blob of sauce from the corner of mouth with a napkin as she stood.

"Of course. Everything OK?"

"I'm fine." Dagaz looked at her, if not quite believing her. "Really." she said. "I'm just going to powder my nose. Maybe I'll take your advice and look at myself in the mirror while I'm in there. Why don't you go ahead an order for us both. Surprise me." Winking at him, she turned and made her way towards the bathroom, hips swaying as she went. She even managed to stay steady on her heels as she went, no small feat considering she was a bottle and a half down of wine by that point.

Sitting there on his lonesome, Dagaz skimmed the menu, not really being in the mood to throw desert — no matter how delectable it may be — on top of then large steak he'd just consumed. In all honestly the meal hadn't done anything for his appetite, if anything he actually felt rather nauseous. Rather nauseous quickly escalated into full blown nausea the longer he sat there desperately hoping the steak would settle in his stomach. He attempted to smother it with a few sips of iced water, but to no avail, the moment the liquid hit his stomach it was as if a fat kid had jumped in the swimming pool and sent all the water rushing out.

He ran, most ungraciously, in the direction of the gent's bathroom. Finding it blissfully vacant, he fell to his knees in front of the closet piece of porcelain he could find and proceeded to vacate the contents of his stomach with abandon. Steak, potatoes, wine all hit the water below his face with such a violent **** that Dagaz half feared he may very well turn inside out if he vomited any harder. Every time he thought he was done, that there couldn't possibly be any more food left of inside him, his body surprised him with another flood from his mouth into the water. His eyes and nose stung from the ****, half from the **** with which he was throwing up, but party from the pungent mixture now gathered below him. Not quite daring to rise from his knees, he gingerly reached up for the chain and pulled, moving his head back just in time to stop himself getting an impromptu hair wash.

As the water cleared beneath his face, Dagaz caught sight of his reflection, and what a sorry sight it was looking back at him — red, tear stained eyes and the haggard expression that reminded him of a junkie coming down from a bad hit. He stayed there for a good few minutes until his stomach, now empty, began to settle. He would have moved sooner if not out of fear of it rebelling again.

Having dined at this establishment more than frequently, he had no reason to suspect the quality of the food, the very notion of any diner succumbing to food poisoning was simply out of the question in a restaurant of this caliber. So if it wasn't the quality of the food he'd consumed that had made him retch, the was it perhaps the food itself? He been so absorbed in his guilt over nearly killing Ava on he rooftop before, he had neglected to eat even a single bite of the food he'd prepared her when he was attempting to make a mends back in his kitchen. If he had, he would have realised that his Vampiric body could no longer tolerate solid food, and would simply make his throw it up if he attempted to digest it. Sure he could enjoy the tastes and textures, but if he did he would be experiencing them twice, pleasurably on the way down and not so nicely the second time as he brought them forcefully back up.

He'd never been this sick in his (un)life, and considering he'd managed to OD on cocaine during a particularly wild backstage party in his youth, and what a party that had been, right up until that last line of blow had gone up his nose and roundhouse kicked his brain. He remembered waking up in the hospital 3 days later, greeted by the stony disapproving face of his mother looming over him and the sound of machines beeping away in the background. Where any other maternal figure would have been filled will concern at their child having edged so close to meeting their maker, Evelyn Milquiste instead had simple looked at him laying in his hospital bed, tutted, and turned on her heel towards the door in disappointment. Either at her Son’s poor choices, or his inability to even kill himself properly, he never did find out which before she had passed herself years later. He hadn't gone to the funeral, and she hadn't wanted him there anyway wh uh had suited him perfectly. It was the first thing they had ever been in agreement on.

Pulling lengths of toilet paper from the roll, Dagaz wiped the last of the vomit from his mouth. Disgusted with himself, he hauled himself to his feet on shaky arms, and threw the crumpled paper into the toilet with a silent fury, less at himself and more at his complete lack of having a fucking clue at the finer points of being a vampire. His anger bubbled, erupting forcefully as he punched a hole in the wall of the bathroom stool. Thankfully he was the only occupant of the bathroom, he would have hated to have had to explain his outburst, and surprising display of strength to a stranger if they had observed him.

He half walked, half dragged his sorry ass over to main door to the bathroom and locked it. He needed time to gather his thoughts, and he really didn't want to be disturbed whilst he did. A quick glance down at his watch told him thag thankfully only a few minutes had passed since Ava had first left him sitting at the table, although to his stomach it felt like an eternity had come and gone since then. He felt like he'd throw up food he hadn't even eaten that night, shadows of food from long ago come back to haunt him.

Sliding towards the floor, his clothes be damned, he tucked his legs towards him, rested his head on his knees and let his stomach settle and his mind wander. What exactly, had he discovered about his new condition. He'd been living it for — and he was going on the assumption that he'd woken up shorty after being turned — the better part of three days at this point.

So, what had he discovered exactly?

Well, he was strong. He'd surmised that much by his first having travelled with ease through the drywall of the cubicle, but confirmed it when it continued to travel well into the concrete behind with minimal resistance.

Two, daylight wasn't his friend. That had come not only from his own sense of apprehension at feeling the dawn approach each morning, but also from the little information he had been able to clean into vampirism through his research.

He'd discovered that his blood healed his own wounds, and his saliva seemed to heal others. Gazing at the back of his hand, he watched with and intent fascination as the cuts on his knuckled closed before his eyes.

And lastly, he'd discovered that blood seemed to be the only food he could consume, at least without stomach churning consequences. Solid food, human food, would sadly have to find itself removed from his palette from now on, save he find himself back on his knees praying to porcelain again.

His blood also seemed to posses another, quite interesting property, one that he had began to suspect the previous day, but was slowly becoming more sure of. If he fed it to someone, they seemed to become susceptible to his suggestions. He'd first realised when he'd made the offer for Ava to move in with him, but he'd been convinced of it when she'd left for the bathroom. He'd planted the idea — actually unintentionally — for her to go the bathroom and look at herself in the mirror. The thought had taken hold, and after a time, she'd acted on it. If that was what a single drop had done, who knew what would happen if he'd have given her more. Would she become as he was, he wondered? He suspected not, Ysabelle had drained him to the point of **** before giving him her own blood. But until he got a handle on things, he'd have to be mindfully of what he said around her at the very least.

Amidst the silence of his own thoughts, a sharp trill brought him back to the moment as his phone went off in his pocket. He could have sworn that he'd left it on silent during the meal. Retrieving it from his pocket, he looked down to see a string of messages from and unknown number. He opened the first one, really hoping it wasn't some stupid chain message or anything like that. Since the iCloud hack, a lot of people's numbers had been compromised. He'd been loathe to change his though as many of his clients abroad would be unreachable for long stretches of time, and he would hate to loose contact with them.

To his pleasant surprise, the first one he opened was from Ava.

Hope you don't mind, I snagged your number off of one of your business cards earlier when I was getting changed. Figured I should at least save you in my phone. Took your advice, and had a look in the mirror.

What do you think? -x-

He opened the picture attached, and was greeted with a selfie of her, posing for him in the bathroom mirror of the restaurant.

Hitting reply with his thumb, he messaged back his approval.

Beautiful, just like I told you. Can you see it yourself now?

He hit send, unsure if he should have reciprocated the kiss she had put on the end of her first message. After a few moments, a second photo popped up on his screen. This one had again been taken in the mirror, but this time Ava was tugging seductively at the front of her dress, exposing the tops of her considerable chest to him via her reflection.

Within moments of his reply being sent, another message alert popped up on his screen. This time, she'd sent him another picture, showing her turned to angle the camera of her phone over her shoulder in order to flaunt her killer backside at him via the reflection. The dress was so tight her could see the faint outline of her delicate underwear tracing the crack of her ass beneath the material.

A third message soon followed, accompanied by another selfie.

Like what you see?

Well that was a rhetorical question if ever he'd heard one, he didn't think there was a person on the planet, alive or undead, who wouldn't have appreciated what he was seeing in that moment, and he told her pretty much that. Leaving out the undead part of course.

His phone was bombarded with a string of fresh alerts, and he gleefully opened each one in turn as Ava began to send him a digital strip tease via his mobile. In the first, her bra had come off. In the second, she had begun to tease at the edges of her skirt with her spare hand, hooking with her thumb and looking down in mock shock, like she was surprised at her own actions.

By the third picture, the skirt had followed her bra to the floor, but she continued to tantalise him by keeping her tits covered. Which was quite an impressive feat with one arm. In the next, she had let that arm fall away to uncover them.

Even though he'd seen them before, had them in his mouth and hands even, there was still something inherently sexy about seeing her naked on the tiny screen before him.

She was either a daredevil, or had been of the same mind as he had been and had locked the bathroom door, he thought. The messages continued to come through, each showing more of Ava's stunning body uncovered, and Dagaz continued to send his approval at each one.

Then the messages stopped or so he thought. As if her boldness had somehow restored his own strength, Dagaz pushed himself to his feet. Checking his own reflection, he smoothed his shirt, checked his own face for any lingering signs of vomit, and went to make his way back to the table, hoping to arrive back there before his date.

From his pocket, he felt his phone vibrate one last time, and as he checked it, his eyes very nearly pooped from his head. Ava had sent him one final picture. Even though her face was hidden, he would have recognize her ass anywhere. But how she'd managed to get this angle, he had no idea. She was bent over the edge of the sink with her ass pointing towards the camera, one hand reached behind her to spread her pussy lips, whilst the other pushed something that looked remarkably like a breadstick inside her. As he read the caption typed neatly beneath the picture, he let out a long whistle to himself.

It simply said 'Wouldn't you rather eat this.'