Bite

It's raining again. Not a light drizzle, but a steady, torrential downpour, and there's one person to blame—you know this. Rather annoying that you're having to get up from your comfy chair, put your mug down on the table and walk the several paces over to the front door because she, once again, is at it.

You find it surprising how whenever it rains, the moment that thunder echoes across the city, there's an almost frantic knock that follows. And of course, once you finally open it, the culprit is right there on the other side.

Ning Yizhuo. Your annoying, meddling, definitely too-involved, overly-attached-and-obsessed, whatever the fuck you wanna call the relationship you share with the girl. You'd call her an ex, but you never officially ended anything. Even with an ocean between the two of you, a volcano, she'd still find a way, at some point or another, to show up at the doorstep in the middle of the night,

So you sigh at her presence—yet, not because you hate seeing her. No, quite the opposite. It's only out of some kind of spite that you keep her waiting, lingering there outside your house in the rain. Like this is the universe punishing you for past transgressions.

Against your better judgment, you open the door, checking if the doorknob is hot first.

There she stands, looking too attractive in all black, thin stockings, torn somehow, a way too tight skirt hugging her waist. Low cut top, visible through a dark coat, with far too much cleavage to defend against.

And somehow, nothing looks out of place—despite having no other option but to brave the rain to see you.

"Is this your doing, I assume?"

The expression on her face drops from hopeful to annoyance in mere seconds. Ningning rolls her eyes and takes a step forward. You take a step back.

"What, the sky? Please, not even I can control the weather."

"Then why do you always show up whenever there's a storm?"

She scowls, folding her arms. "Call it a coincidence. Now, aren't you gonna invite me inside?"

You hesitate as the storm begins to worsen. Not only the rain but the booming thunder and lightning that chases it, so bad that the entire street lights up. In all honesty, you know that you don't really have another choice. It's not like she'll physically enter the house if you don't allow it, yet she's just insufferable enough to camp in the driveway until the sun comes out.

"Do you even get wet, Ning? You're practically standing in a monsoon out there, and not a spot on you."

"Depends if your pants are still on or not," she fires back, that wicked smile always wide and ready to strike.

You've made worse mistakes than this, you suppose—even though a little voice at the back of your mind urges otherwise.

"Come inside," you say, already regretting the words the moment they leave your lips, gesturing to the open door.

Ningning can't help but smirk. "If things go right tonight, that's what I'll be telling you later, baby."

And just like that, she moves past the doorframe—heading inside like she owns the place.

There's no point in pretending that this isn't a you-know-what from your not-ex. She kicks her heels off, hanging her coat on the rack beside the door and making you wonder just how many times Ningning has shown up completely dry in the midst of pouring rain.

"So, what did I interrupt that was so important that you took forever to open the door?" Ningning asks, standing around as if she didn't show up uninvited, as if you're expected to drop to your knees just because she's arrived.

"Enjoying the peace, Ning, that's what. It's late," you reply, feeling an incoming headache at having to deal with her. "Maybe if you sent a warning—"

She ignores everything. Stares as you sit back down on the couch, your tea more than a little cold now. "Typical."

You roll your eyes, fighting not to pick an argument while she surveys the place. "Typical what?"

She ignores you again. Somehow unbothered and distant, focused entirely elsewhere—just as if nothing has happened between the two of you. The absolute gall, she has.

"Well, I'm glad you're up at this hour. Even better you're alone."

Now you're the one ignoring her, leaning back down on the couch to finish the last sips of tea, a nagging feeling brewing the pit of your stomach—because there's only ever one reason why she shows up late at night, and it's not to chat over tea.

Much to your chagrin, Ningning looks directly at you, but she moves close—very close, until there's a dangerous look in her eyes while she smiles. "Have you eaten yet?

"A bit, but not really—"

Ningning shakes her head, taunting with a feigned annoyance at your response. "How is it you never have food in this damn house?"

"Don't get hungry often enough, I guess," you say, fighting to keep your eyes off of her outfit.

She nods in response, crossing her arms. "I see. Well then—"

The storm rages on outside the living room window, but your focus is stolen entirely away as Ningning approaches, positioning herself in a spot right in front of your line of sight, as if to distract. Not that it's a hard thing to do. Not when she's wearing a tiny little thing she calls a skirt, stockings that do her legs far too much of a favor, and a top that struggles to contain much of anything.

"Yes, Ning?"

There's a moment that passes by where Ningning stares long enough that you're uncomfortable, long enough to where you feel as if the moment can shatter at any second.

"Look, before I say anything else," she begins, still standing in place as those eyes stay locked on you. "Had to take the train here. Nothing was fucking available. Then a taxi—since you had to live out in bumfuck nowhere. I'm tired, and sore—I'm absolutely starving. Not for food, obviously."

"Obviously," you repeat, hardly in shock with her direct nature. She's hardly ever subtle. "Then take what you need. Don't have to ask twice."

Her lips curl up. "Thanks, sweetie. Knew there was a reason why I liked you."

Without anything further, Ningning is quick—far too quick for your liking while she climbs atop, legs on either side, straddling you—close enough so you can feel the cold on your skin. You sit idly by and soak it all in.

"This'll hurt just a little bit—" she says, before her lips press deep so she can pepper several kisses along the side of your neck. "Just keep still. I'll be quick."

"Don't be."

You don't even register the words that come out of your mouth, not fully, at least. Ningning smirks, running her fingers through your hair, smiling in satisfaction that you've somehow fallen into her trap yet again.

"Darling, I will tear you apart if you let me have my way."

You'd damn near let her.

Ningning's not the type to wait around, tilting her head back so she can bare her glistening fangs, primed and ready to devour you whole in the process. They sink in at the crook of your neck, piercing the skin with ease—almost at the exact same spot you remember from the last time.

Sharp pain shoots through your body in a matter of seconds, as blood flows out without pause, succumbing to her hunger, letting Ningning takes what she pleases. You hiss at the sensation—a strange mixture of pleasure and pain, not sure which is winning out, only able to watch her drain you, eyes locked in an almost sinister trance while she feeds.

Then, just like that, Ningning pulls her head back, lips stained with a crimson red that she wipes off with the back of her hand. She looks more vibrant, alive—eyes that pierce deep, more than satisfied for the night.

"Thanks, love. That's enough," she replies softly, running her fingers over the bite mark before planting a little kiss on your cheek. "Took a little more than usual. Hope you don't mind."

You laugh, looking up, lost in her gaze. "What am I gonna do, Ning, take it back? Don't worry."

"That'd be very inconvenient," Ningning says, smiling at that. "You should rest a bit, yeah? How do you feel?"