Chapter Text
There are three simple rules to being a vampire:
- Don’t go out in the sun
- Stay away from pointy things
- Blend InTM
Kara’s got the hang of it for one so new, except when it comes to Lena Luthor.
Lena is a creature of shadow and moonlight, as ethereal as a spirit of the forest. At least that was Kara first impression when they met the day she arrived at college. She knocked on the door of the dorm room they were supposed to share with her heart in her throat (or it would have been located there if it still beat) and, on the threshold, Lena was an apparition of black and white and dashing scarlet. Real - Kara could see her pulse thump against the perfect column of her neck - but not quite of this world.
She navigates the sometimes agitated waters of college life with grace and the self-assuredness of someone that, at her young age, already knows exactly who she is. When she glides by, Kara trailing after her for evening classes, every head turns and more than a few spin - of that Kara is sure.
Often, when they are together, people mistake her for the vampire, which is something Kara cannot really blame them for.
Silvered glass is no longer used in mirrors and all Kara needs to do to examine her reflection is walk into the bathroom she and Lena share, so she’s painfully aware of how un-vampirelike she looks.
While Lena’s black clothes and blood-red lipstick emphasize the pallor of her skin - which is the hallmark of vampirism according to fashion magazines - Kara’s blonde hair and blue eyes, coupled with her love for pastel colors do nothing of the sort.
She even played with baring her fangs at her reflected image once or twice, deep-seated sparks of red igniting in her eyes, but she could never get past the pissed off puppy look and, crap , that’s humiliating.
Even though Lena said she finds it cute .
That’s not the only thing about Lena making Kara wish she still had a working heart. There’s the casual way in which Lena keeps touching her - a hand on her knee when they grab a bite with friends, a brush of fingers against her temple to push strands of golden hair away from Kara’s eyes - or how she leans in close, peering over Kara’s shoulder, whenever she has her sketchbook out. Her eyes are different colors, Kara notices on one such occasion, pencil scratching furiously on the paper to capture the moment, and mutable with both her moods and the season.
They linger on her for a moment longer than they should, and the weight of Lena’s gaze is burning sunlight on her skin. So much so that Kara forgets how to breathe, which is Really Bad, especially in the middle of a campus library full of stressed-out human students - but she can’t help it. Lena is too close, and Kara can smell her lavender-scented soap and a minty trace of toothpaste in her breath.
Under her intense study, the Blend InTM rule flies out the nearest window and they have to leave the premises in a hurry, before some anti-vampire jock notices what’s going on.
“I’m so sorry.” They have stopped a a block or so from their dorm building and Lena leans into a tree to catch her breath. Kara doesn’t need to, but her chest is aching in a funny way as if she should.
“N-no.” Clutching the sketchbook to her chest, Kara shakes her head with vehemence. She is still gripping her pencil too and, when she uncurls her fist, she discovers it is crushed irreparably into splinters. “It’s my fault. I should have more control, really.” You make me forget all about rules. The voice in her head says quietly, and Kara inhales sharply of air she doesn’t need. “Just, don’t tell Alex about what happened? Please?”
Alex would throw a fit and maybe even call Eliza, Kara’s adoptive mother. It had been hard enough convincing her foster family that she was ready to leave Midvale and step into the world, without giving them an excuse to call her back home. Homeschooling had been fine up to the point loneliness became unbearable, but she’s ready now - there’s plenty of other vamps living on campus and, if they can manage to coexist with mortals, so can she.
“Of course I won’t!” Lena retorts, mildly offended. Then, her tone softens and her mouth quirks upward in a playful half-smile. “It will be our little secret.” It’s how she says it, with a hint of double-meaning, that makes what’s left of the blood she had for sustenance at dinner gather underneath the skin of Kara’s cheeks. Her face hasn’t felt this warm in 10 years at the very least.
She suffocates a groan.
In the glow of a nearby streetlight, Lena’s eyes are sparkling and sly. Racking her brains for some witty comeback, Kara opens her mouth. She shuts it with a loud click a moment later, unable to think past the steady beat of Lena’s heart.
“Race you to the room!”
Lena’s laughter makes the night around them come alive. An owl hoots in the distance and the crisp autumn wind shakes the treetops overhead, the branches rubbing against one another in dry mirth.
Before Kara can even think of moving, Lena is running ahead and vanishing between two buildings. She looks carefree and wild, and unafraid of the things that absolutely go bumping into the night.
With her unnatural speed she’d catch up in a matter of seconds but, instead, she just stares, helplessly, after her friend.
Something like cement is pouring into her chest, crushing her lungs and she wants, wants, wants for her heart to beat again - just once.
*************
Kara sits on her bed, back to the wall, watching Lena get ready for her date.
Her body feels cold and hard as it always does when she goes too many hours without feeding, but she welcomes the lack of sensation. She is numb, detached from everything around her, and the fact that Lena is going out with some guy - who could potentially become her boyfriend - doesn’t hurt so badly anymore. You have no right to be jealous. A small, unhelpful voice inside her head reminds her. You’re just friends, remember?
“Who is this dude again?” She has to raise her voice a little, since Lena ducked back inside the bathroom to swap dresses. The last one had been a changeable grey-green that drew attention to Lena’s eyes.
Kara thought it lovely, but Lena had disagreed.
“His name is Morgan Edge.” Lena is leaning on the doorway, naked except for a pair of black, hip-hugging undies. The golden light that spills out of the bathroom softens her curves and they look oh, so touchable to Kara. Desire makes her fingers tingle and ache with sudden warmth.
She does her best not to stare, but her gaze is unerringly attracted to Lena’s small breasts and to her pebbled nipples, which seem to stiffen further under her eyes.
“I really rather not go.” Kara struggles to refocus. “But Mother set the whole thing up, so.”
Lena sighs, long and heavy, and rolls her eyes a little. The subject of her family is a sore one and Kara never asked for more details than Lena was willing to give.
Kara is aware that the Luthors are very rich - but everyone knows that - and, in case someone happened to forget, the generous yearly donations to National City’s college are a good reminder. Hell , the campus theater is named after Lena’s father. Old money and powerful, but those who bothered to know Lena beyond what the town said would soon realize how little she cared about both. The rest, Kara inferred from what little Lena let slip.
“Anyway, you’ve seen him before. He sits next to Lockwood at Anthro?”
Ugh .
Kara’s stomach sinks lower and she thinks it just might flop out of her body.
She never exchanged a word with Edge, but the dozen or so she’s traded with his buddy Lockwood are enough to last her an eternity. Literally.
Kara will never forget their first meeting.
She has been on campus for two weeks when it happens and is having a hard time remembering where everything is. That night, she decided to brave the great campus outdoors all on her own and return some books she’d borrowed from the library. Everything worked fine on the way from her dorm room, but she gets lost on the walk back, all the buildings she passes blending together until she can’t tell where she is going anymore.
Lockwood steps in front of her then, blocking her path, and, even though Kara could easily walk around him, she doesn’t. He’s the football team’s star linebacker, which means he’s big and muscular, but that isn’t what upsets Kara the most. There’s something nasty about his smile, and the thought of having him at her back makes the fine hairs at the nape her neck stand on edge.
“You lost, freshman?” With a crunch of boots on gravel he moves closer, and Kara doesn’t like how he keeps his hands buried in the pockets of his letterman jacket. Nights have gotten significantly cooler over the past few days, but it certainly isn’t cold enough for that. What is he hiding?
Several possibilities, none of them pleasant, flash through her over excited mind.
Kara being a vampire is no big secret. National City’s college was in fact the first one that allowed them to attend and - several years later - it annoverates a handful of vampires among its teaching staff as well.
Obviously, as all other vampire students, Kara had been required to disclose her… status ... upon enrolling and, while student records aren’t public, there’s the fact she only attends evening classes and the bags of animal blood she picks up once a week from the infirmary. Anyone who wasn’t a complete dimbulb would catch on quickly enough.
Most people are fine with having vampires around, some even think it’s cool, but a few of the fraternities are known for playing pranks on the undead - as dangerous as that can be.
Kara wonders briefly whether she walked into one such set up.
“I’m not. Just got-” Turned around a bit .
“I’m asking because you really do look lost.”
He is definitely pushing inside her space now, so close the cloying scent of his cologne pricks Kara’s nose.
“I’m not-“ She croaks. Swallows. Tries again. “I’m not lost.”
“Wow.” Lockwood shakes his head, almost commiserating. “Never seen a scared vampire before. Are you afraid, leech ?” His lip lifts to expose his teeth and aggression thickens the air around them. It’s the gathering of static before a storm and, if she wasn’t so busy keeping Lockwood in her sights, Kara would frown at the sky, expecting rain.
“She’s afraid .” He snickers, tossing the joke over one shoulder and somebody unseen laughs in response.
Terror seizes Kara in that moment and she breaks into a run, Lockwood’s mocking laughter filling the darkness behind her. Kara could hurt him and his pals if she truly wanted – she may be young but already she is stronger than most men – but Eliza’s disapproving voice fills her mind, warning her not to.
By the time she makes it back to her room, the sky is a lighter shade of blue. Already she can feel daylight approaching; her stomach roils in dread and her limbs are leaden, her body weak and tired. Lena is, thankfully, still fast asleep, which saves Kara from giving an explanation, but it takes her more than an hour to settle down.
A week later, just when she’s managed to put the encounter out of her mind, she finds a wooden stake on their doorstep and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who put it there.
Kara is too ashamed to tell Lena about it and, until tonight, there was no need. And it feels petty to bring this up the moment Lena is supposed to go out with one of Lockwood’s friends.
Like she wants to ruin the date, almost.
“Kara? Are you even listening to me?”
She jolts hard enough that the back of her head collides with the wall. There’s no pain - there will be no bruising - but white spots dance in front of Kara’s eyes for a few moments.
Lena is dangerously close, and still very much naked. Her skin looks unmarred, feather-like and she smells lightly of warm water and lavender soap. Suddenly, Kara’s lips are dry, so she wets them and has the distinct feeling that Lena is following the motion with quick tracking eyes. But, perhaps, it’s just a trick of the light.
“I-Of course, I-!”
“You don’t look okay.” Before she can move her head away, Lena is touching her face, fingers scorching like hot metal against Kara’s cheekbone.
There’s a groan building in the back of Kara’s throat but, somehow, she manages to hold it back by the skin of her fangs.
“You’re pale.” Lena mutters to herself. She’s frowning, and even that looks pretty on her face. “Well, paler than usual. Have you eaten?”
“Uhm.” Kara squirms and drops her gaze, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. She tries to avoid feeding when Lena is around - blood changes her, and her play-pretends in front of the bathroom mirror become far too real under its copper thrall. “Not yet. But I promise I will,” she adds in a hurry, perceiving that Lena is about to argue. “As soon as we’ve picked your outfit.”
“Fine.” Lena sighs, withdrawing her hand. Kara immediately mourns the loss of her touch, but forces herself to remain still, fighting down the urge to reach for Lena’s fingers with her own. “But you need to take better care of yourself.”
There’s no force behind the words, but her eyes are dark with worry. It elicits something inside of Kara, a tug of war within her chest. Her ribs fold, then expand, and the shriveled remnants of her heart are suffused with unexpected heat.
“So,” Lena is holding up two more dresses and Kara shoots her a grateful look that goes unnoticed. “Red or black?”
“Definitely red.” Kara points to the dress on the right without hesitation. “It’s a date, not your funeral .”
“If Edge is as dull as he seems it might as well be.” Lena quips, making her laugh.
“Red it is.” Frowning at both dresses one last time before she throws the black one on the massive pile of rejects that takes up most of her bed, Lena slips into what Kara picked. The garment flows along her curves like water, its color changing to a different shade of red whenever Lena moves. Scarlet one moment, deep russet the next, the dress highlights Lena’s delicate complexion, and its plunging neckline would make Kara short of breath if she had any.
Dressed in shifting fire, Lena is pure seduction. The thrill of it is riveting, fascinating, and Kara can’t stop staring at her - enthralled and totally round-eyed. Lena chose dark red lipstick for her date and Kara’s gaze is hooked to her slightly parted lips, soft and inviting and - she is sure - as silky as the fabric of her dress.
But Kara knows that her true charm lies elsewhere: when she laughs a bit too loud at a joke, not minding how she sounds. Or when she falls asleep at her desk, snoring softly, cheek cushioned by an open book. Right now, Lena looks painfully gorgeous, but she’s even lovelier with her hair wet and wild and tangled after a shower, or as she sits cross-legged on her unmade bed, sipping her first coffee of the day - black and unsweetened - with cobwebs in her eyes.
Kara doesn’t care what Lena wears - she is as stunning in that expensive dress as she is swathed in one of her older brother’s faded hoodies. She’s learned that seduction doesn’t ever pass, not when you’ve fallen in love with someone at first sight.
Lena returns her gaze, and her eyes crinkle up as a hesitant smile makes slow progress across her face.
“Do I look good?” She asks, and her voice trembles a little.
You look beautiful . Is what Kara wants to say, but she’s a coward. Instead she nods, wordlessly, not trusting herself enough to speak
“Would you help me with the zipper?” Lena gestures, twisting around.
It’s a good thing that Kara is mostly incapable of blushing because, were she still human, her cheeks would be blotched red.
She practically bolts to her feet, glad that Lena cannot see how bad her hands are shaking.
When she first awoke to her new life, before the Danvers took her in, Kara had marvelled at her strength. It had terrified her too, the ease with which she could break things if she weren’t careful. Eliza’s first lessons had been about control, but the one true teacher was the red stray kitten Alex brought home one day after school. At first Kara was so afraid she’d hurt the little thing she refused to even be in the same room with him, but she trained herself to be gentle, and she’ll never forget the first time she had allowed herself to stretch a hand, the kitten purring happily against her fingertips.
She exercises the same level of control now, slider held between thumb and forefinger as if she were handling a Ming vase.
You can do it. She tells herself, just stop thinking about how close you are to Lena.
She gets halfway through the process but, then, her knuckles brush up against Lena’s spine and she’s tempted to follow the delicate ridges of bone that stand out between the brunette’s shoulder blades, where the skin is paper thin.
Kara has to pause a moment, completely overwhelmed - she tugs a little at the slider, pretending that it’s stuck. She can feel the intrinsic frailty of the bone, and its wondrous strength. Almost perceive the galvanizing arcs of electricity that run along the nerves and marrow sheathed within and, for a moment, race through her hand as well.
Her body is different now, kept alive by something alien and inexplicable, but Kara is young enough to remember how it is to really live - and she misses it.
She wishes, more than anything, to tell Lena how she feels but is too scared of losing the only friend she has outside of Alex. There’s James, of course, and Sam and Nia but Kara can’t get it out of her head that they merely tolerate as per Lena’s request.
But Lena must be feeling something too: under Kara’s grazing touch her back tenses and she gasps. And - somehow - the spark of connection between them becomes almost visible, the heat shimmer of an extremely hot day.
“‘M sorry.” Kara pulls the slider all the way up and takes a quick step back. “My hands are cold.” Except they aren’t - they are warm, as was her cheek when Lena placed her fingers there. Her own bones thrum with residual energy and she wraps her arms around herself, her flesh itching under her clothes in an afterthought of goosebumps.
“No, it’s-” Lena shrugs, her pensive eyes a murkier shade of green as she tries to find more words. “It’s nothing.” She concludes weakly, looking to the digital display of the alarm clock on her nightstand.
Her entire posture is torn and she lifts an eyebrow as if she could stop the minutes from trickling past by sheer force of will.
“I guess I should go.” This time, Lena’s sigh is resigned.
“Don’t wanna keep your date waiting!” Kara chirps, faking cheerfulness she doesn’t feel.
After that, Lena finishes readying in silence, face overcast. Her eyes are grey now, an autumn sky reflecting her mood.
It doesn’t take long and Lena is finally all set to go, but she dawdles at the door, fidgeting with the metal clasp of her wristlet. The leather matches the red of the dress, Kara notes distractedly, eyes fixed on Lena’s.
Don’t go. She almost says, and has the feeling Lena would stay if she just asked. Text him and tell him you don’t feel well.
She opens her mouth, and different words roll out.
“Have fun.”
“Will do.”
The door opens, closes, hides Lena from view.
But something is left of her with Kara, along with a whiff of her scented soap. Something they evoked in the yellowish light of the bathroom, something heavy with half-lidded looks that will not be taken back now that they’ve let it out.
Once alone, Kara wants to keep her promise, but her stomach is into knots and it’s a while before she feeds.
In the end she does so after having shut the lights, the glow of Lena’s alarm clock casting distorted shadows above their beds. The blood is rich on her mouth, but the warmth spreading through her limbs is nothing compared to what Lena’s touch provoked. When the blood bag sags empty in her grasp, no fulfillment follows.
And Kara is left, cold and lonely, to silently form words she doesn’t have the strength to say in the half-dark.