My failures just seem to multiply as time goes on

Esmee sauntered down the empty London streets, trying to ignore the delicious scent of all the humans. She hadn't fed in so long, and the fact that she was drowning is stress didn't help her blood lust problem. She had dark looking bruises under her gray eyes, she looked exceedingly tired. Every time should would pass someone, she would hold her breath, hoping that she wouldn't reach out and suck them dry. The images plagued her mind, causing her to clench her fists together.

She couldn't take the closeness to all the mortals much longer, she broke down and found a nice alleyway where she quickly took shelter in. She slumped against the brick wall, letting her head fall into her pale hands. She groaned loudly, wishing the sound of a nearby heartbeat would leave her mind.

The beating inched closer and closer as the time passed. Soon, Esmee could feel their body heat radiate on her cold touch. The scrawny man looked at her, concern clear in his eyes. Great the thought swirled violently through her mind. Her hunger caused her head to snap up, her gray eyes turning a frightening black as she focused on the man. She struggled with herself, hoping that maybe she could win over her blood lust. But, alas, she seemed to fail once again.

The smell of his blood was just far to enticing for Esmee to handle. The man was just so close to her, she knew she could just reach out and touch him. With thinking that, her hand left her side, finding its way to the human. She slowly rose to her feet, letting herself move closer to the pulse that called to her. She let her cold hand grab at his, pulling him farther into the alley. A seductive smile crossed her face, causing the man's breath to catch.

Esmee struggled with herself, but the monster within won. She stood on her tippy toes, looking as if she was about to kiss the human. But, instead, her pink lips went straight to his throat. Her canines grew long, finding their way through the mortals flimsy skin. The sanguine flood rushed from the wound, flowing swiftly into Esmee's hungry mouth.

She fed, loving the way the sweet fluid glided down her throat. But, she couldn't help but hear a peculiar sound. It sounded as if someone was approaching. Of course, her want of blood made her ignore the fact that there could be an intruder. All she wanted was to suck the stranger dry, not caring if he lived or not.

He had been strolling through the streets of London after the sun had set, drowning in self-pity. His eyes were dark and his eyelids heavy, and his charming smiles had long since faded. He had eaten earlier-his colleague had finally obliged after getting his strength back from the last time.

His eyes followed the many people walking the streets, and he shook his head and muttered quietly to himself as every person passed. He was very tired of himself at this point in the day, seemingly early for him. He decided he had better go somewhere he enjoyed, so he headed into the heart of downtown, where he was sure to find something to take his interest off of himself and how morose he always seemed to be.

He was walking down the road, watching the lavish restaurants pass by, wishing he could digest regular food, and scowling that he couldn't. The food didn't smell remotely good to him anymore, and that made him wallow ever-more in his sadness. It smelled foreign, and he wished that he was normal. For the millionth time that day.

As he passed the alleys, he realized he was picking up a smell. A smell of someone of his kind. A vampire. Hm, he thought, that was peculiar. He picked up his pace, walking faster towards the smell. As he walked, it became stronger, and another smell came with it-blood. His curiosity took hold of him, leading him into a dark alley.

He watched a blond vampire turn and bite a man, and closed his mouth, feeling like he was out of place in his black suit. He couldn't see her face, and felt like he was intruding, but still looked on, wondering who this girl was, though he didn't really care she was feeding-though it was a strange manner, to him. He continued to stare.

Esmee finally snapped out of her feeding frenzy, realizing that there was someone in the alleyway with her. Her thoughts flew around in panic, wondering if it was a human or not. Something in the back of her head told her she was safe. That she had no need to worry. Of course, her head jerked away from the body. Her grip on the limp mortal failed, letting him fall to the floor. She let her arm fins her mouth, wiping away the delicious blood that spotted her pale lips.

Her gray eyes were wide in shock when she realized what she had done. She wanted to crawl into the corner of the alley and cry. Her mouth hung agape, making her look dumbfounded. She looked down at the body that had fallen to the concrete. She grimaced at the sight, gently stepping over the still alive human. She was relieved that he wasn't dead. Of course, it would probably be smart if she made sure he didn't remember this night. She just shrugged and continued staring at the vampire that had intruded her feeding.

Normally, if someone interrupted her meal, she would go into a frenzy, anger taking control. But, this time, she had herself under control. She was grateful that this man had stopped her killing of this innocent human. She let an expression of shame and sorrow cross her features, her eyebrows knitted together. She looked down at her feet, digging her heel into the ground.

"Uh," she started, "Sorry you had to see that. How embarrassing," she mumbled, her face turning a shade paler. "Um. Thanks for stopping me though. I can't believe I lost control again," she made her way over to the brick wall, sliding down it till she was sitting on the cold cement. A hand lifted from her side, rubbing at her forehead.

Henry's eyes took it in as he realized she knew he was there in the alley with her. She was very disgruntled, he saw, and felt like he needed to help the girl. She looked aghast, and he was baffled as to why she was so displeased. She had just had a good meal, hadn't she? What was the need for being upset for?

Henry watched in confusion as the girl dropped the body, seemingly horrified with herself. He was strangely intrigued with the way she showed how despised she was with herself. He didn't really talk, he just stared back at her, his eyes taking in her large gray doe eyes, her long blonde hair. She was really quite pretty, he concluded, but continued watching her strange, almost clumsy mannerisms.

She looked...moritifed. That was it. The way she looked at her feet, and looked so abashed. "Why are you embarrassed?" He asked, finally, striding over to her, listening to the satisfying click-clack of his fancy shoes on the stone. "Are you quite alright?"

He was careful to sit down a fair distance away from her. "It's alright, I don't see why you are..." He didn't want to be repetitive, so he just looked up, smoothing his already perfect hair back with the palm of one hand.

Esmee watched as the man sat down, keeping his distance. Her lip raised to the side, making it seem like she was in deep thought. She let her head rest against the wall, her eyes gazing up into the night sky. There were barely any stars out, the city lights made them all impossible to see.

"Because I'm a horrible person," she mumbled, eyes still focused on the cloudy night. "I for one don't like killing innocent people," her voice started to sound curt. She took a deep breath, hoping that she wasn't coming off as bi-polar. She was completely normal, except for the fact that she had uncontrollable thirst for blood and she hated what she was.

"And I'm not alright," she muttered, her voice sounded bored, no longer having an edge to it. "I want to be normal." Esmee let out a short, quick laugh. She thought she sounded childish, always complaining about how she hated being a vampire, hated stealing the life from people just to survive. She let her eyes trail down from the sky, back to he peculiar man who sat before her. She tilted her head to the side, admiring the way he looked and the way he dressed. She always like a man with good tastes in clothing.

He didn't dare disturb her thoughts, but sat, perplexed by what she was looking at and why she was so upset with herself. He didn't understand. Her voice changed moods quickly, or that was quite possibly his imagination, but he listened to her just the same. Her voice was high and cold, as well as very guilty-sounding.

"You can't help it," he said quietly, shyly. "Nor do I, but it's the way I've got to live." He noted that this was a lie-he didn't kill people normally, nor on a regular day basis. He hadn't done that in months. Years, maybe. But he was on a roll, so he continued, hoping that his words would help the troubled soul.

"Then why don't you walk out into the sunlight?" He asked. He understood his words and tone were both harsh, but why was she here when she didn't want to be? "I mean," he said, his voice softer this time, "It's your nature, killing, that is, and that's normal. For...what you are. Is there even a normal for us? We're like, the epitome of not normal." He laughed at himself, his smooth yet gravelly laugh, once again reaching up to smooth back his hair.

Esmee narrowed her gray eyes at the man, feeling utterly insulted. Kill herself? That was something only weak people did. She would never stoop to that level. She growled at him, feeling truly upset by his tone. "Maybe I will," she spat at him. She rose swiftly to her feet. She straightened her spine and jutted her chin out, trying to look fierce when she was just petite and small. She pursed her lips, giving up. She probably looked more like a kitten then a fierce lioness.

She pivoted, turning on her heals to make her dramatic exit. Her shoes clicked against he cement, echoing in the confined space. She stuck her nose up in the air, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn't actually going to kill herself, she loved the fabulous life too much. Sure she hated what she was, but she loved how she could easily be glamorous.

But, was being glamorous for eternity really worth it? Even if it cost people their lives? She shrugged, not really wanting to make the decision right there and then. If she had to, she would lock herself in her home like she's done before. I wouldn't be that hard...

He watched her huff and puff her way out of the alley, feeling rather bad for hurting the girl's feelings. He supposed it had come out a tad bit harsher than he had intended it to. He slouched at his impoliteness and the realization that he had been rude and mean, and chased after her.

"I'm sorry, sorry," he said, looking sideways at her, his tall, thin frame slouching so he could be closer to her height. She wasn't very scary to him, but he had been with enough girls to know that look that they would give him when they got upset; it was like an unspoken slap across the face. He grimaced at the remembrance of other times he had made the same expression.

"I didn't mean...I only meant that you should embrace what you are, stop being unhappy. Life is much...easier when you're optimistic. More fun, too." He stopped, feeling like he was ranting, and turned to examine her. He walked in front of her and turned, holding out a masculine hand to her. "I am Henry. What, may I ask, is your name?" He said, trying to break her tense silence.