Fangs

She’s sitting alone, in her magical world which she calls her own, feeling that something soon would happen. (She felt slightly unprepared; she wondered if she should bear a suit of armor.)

Her tail twitched in anticipation, in a way, waiting for something unusual to occur; deciphering it would be hard to understand, like Latin. (Although it was to be smooth and painless, like smocked drugged sateen)

There was no slight hesitation, when all of a sudden someone reached a hand in to her mystical world beckoning her to come to this one. Walking slowly to the portal, she was surprised not to see a mortal, but another creature from a different world, sought after her. (Little did she know Fate’s cruel irony came in the form, not in a dose of blood, but a drop of love; a more powerful medication, than any duration, that she had ever taken)…
In her world she was so used to the sharing of a drop of blood, when someone sought out love; that at the thought of this she unsheathed her fangs and almost used them. (Only she had to stop when she noticed the creature had beaten her to it; so she held out her hand, so that he could partly consume it)
Fangs so sharp, pierce my heart. (Draw my blood, it signifies love!)

When the blood warmly runs down my spine, then I’m sure your mine; for no one has ever come this close to me (Promise me your mine for all eternity; that you’ll never abandon or leave me)
To this he looked at her questionably, and shook his head unexpectedly (he refused to hurt her)
They say there’s a fine line between love and hate and yes, my accused fate had me thinking that love was hate. (In the past I drew other’s blood in vain; I know now this feeling is not the same…I actually love you…)

Ears down, she hissed. For he was dislodging the customs she grew up with. (This creature was slowly starting to change her, like he was rearranging her; minus the blood, minus the gore; all the things in the past she had adored)
Somehow, a miracle occurred through this commotion of snarling, he made the wild princess promise that each morning that she was to visit him; to let him call her darling. It was this or have her followed constantly, stalked, unmercifully;, to have him come into her world, was a bother.(To be honest he’s lucky that she didn’t rip out his ungula; to sit there in front of her, was if to give her an unpronounced hug and to laugh at her.)

When walking away the first time, several words came to her mind (including “Brave, and smug”)
Weeks passed and now, Yes, I can’t make myself draw your blood. For now I’ve truly fallen in love. When you’re injured, it’s like I feel your pain, I have to get you back to health or a wave of shame washes over me. I would be drowning in a sea, bleeding internally.  (Helplessly)
(What am I to do? I know that fairy tales don’t come true! No, but seems that its happy ending is closing in…)

Now it’s as if we are at the beginning. He’s sitting on the other side of the portal grinning; and to get him back for the misleading tease, I pulled him in. (a Vary rash decision)
His fangs disappearing, I sat back starring, knowing that I had made the right decision in the end…