“Mhmmm…that was great.” Bette muttered against her girlfriend’s forehead before falling back to sleep. When she awoke again, the other side of their bed was empty and cold. What had felt like a normal morning, turned harsh and grey in the light just filtering through cracks in bordered up windows. 

Six months ago…

They were still in London then, still in hiding, though they had slipped out for just one evening. 

Tina had whisked Helena off to visit a few people who ‘had it coming’.  Helena was rejuvenated in a way that flasks of donated blood—scraps of life—could never have renewed her. 

Once Tina left them to make their way back to the hotel, they found themselves blissfully free and out of doors, for the first time in months.  Bette debated taking the Tube, though better of it and decided on a Taxi, but then realized that she did not want to be indoors quite so soon. 

“We’ll walk home.” Helena said quietly into Bette’s ear, pausing to blow cool breath and brush her lips over the lobe.  A shiver fell down the length of Bette’s spine and she turned to meet her.  Helena chuckled as the taller woman pulled her off of the main street. But then she took the upper hand and lifted Bette’s shirt, skimming her nails over Bette’s torso as she kissed her.

“Oh my…” Was all Bette could say clearly. She breathed hard as Helena’s teeth—whiter, were they whiter?—nipped over her breasts, which had been exposed to the night air in a narrow alleyway. One leg found itself hooked over Helena’s shoulder and jesus if the woman didn’t lift up  with one hand before licking and stroking her between her legs until she came shaking and groaning and pressing gently to the back of Helena’s head. To say that Bette was sex-drunk after that quickie would have been an understatement.  Helena hadn’t been able to resist, as she often couldn’t, and she had, bit somewhere on Bette’s thighs.  Her eyes were purple with desire and something else…

Fear.

Helena’s hands were fast, doing up Bette’s shirt and zipping her slacks, all while her eyes darted about, looking for whatever it was that had followed them.