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parisianprinceling · 2 years

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Rêvant de Toi VI - Premières Impressions

(On AO3)

MC heads back to the office after accidentally spending the night at Vincent's and gets to finally meet a few important people. Also Marion shenanigans.

The first thing she noticed when she woke up was the pounding in her head.

With a groan, she turned over, burying her head into the safety and darkness of the couch, trying to evade the sunlight that was streaming through the windows. After shielding herself, she immediately noticed the unfamiliarity of her surroundings and pried her eyes open, slowly lifting her head to glance around the room. Had she…stayed the night?

With a sense of panic, she quickly checked herself, sighing with relief when she realized that she was still fully clothed, though incredibly disheveled. A dark green blanket had been draped over her at some point during the night but now lay crumpled up at the end of the couch, displaced by her movement as she slept. The remnants of last night were nowhere to be seen, likely cleaned up by Eugene when he came in the morning. As she paused for a moment, trying to listen for an indication that anyone was home, she heard nothing but silence. She sat up, her feet finding the soft rug beneath her and supporting her as she pulled herself up slowly, taking some time to gather her bearings and ground herself before starting to move.

She folded the blanket at the end of the couch, not wanting to be discourteous, and started towards the kitchen, wincing when the rug beneath her feet gave way to cool hardwood and then tile. The kitchen was similarly empty, except for a small paper bag sitting on top of some folded fabric. She frowned softly as she approached the sight, glancing around one more time before peeking into the bag.

A delicious smell greeted her nose as she pried into the bag, finding a croissant, once warm but now cool from sitting on the counter for some time. How long had he been gone for? She set the bag to the side to inspect the garment underneath, ignoring the rumbling in her stomach just long enough to notice a small piece of paper tucked under the bag, the elegant scroll running across it was addressed to her.

Miss Prince,

I apologize that I won’t be there when you wake up this morning, but duty calls, of course. I didn’t want to be so rude as to leave without a goodbye, but I could hardly bring myself to disturb your slumber. I hope this can make up for my lack of good hostmanship and however I may have composed myself last night. I’m not usually so forward, but I fear the wine may have dulled my sense of restraint. I shall strive to be more courteous at our next meeting.

Also, the city is rather chilly this morning. Try your best not to catch a cold–I’ve left something behind to help.

Affectueusement,

Vincent

Affectionately? Is this what he called affectionate?

She frowned as her eyes scanned the message, having to reread his words over again to make sense of his apology. Did he feel…bad about what he had said last night? Did he regret it, or just how quickly he acted? She didn’t miss the slight tinge in her heart when she noted the formality of his tone, the ease of conversation from the night before all but absent from his note. It wasn’t like he was outright taking back anything he had said the night before, but she couldn’t help but feel as if he had closed the door on her again, keeping her at arms length from whatever she was trying to deduce about him.

She set the note aside, distracting herself from his wording, not wanting to read too much into it when he wasn’t even here to explain what he meant in the first place. It was better if she didn’t think too much about it anyways. She eyed the fabric finally, running her hand across it and noting its softness before holding it up, trying to see exactly what he had left her. Looking over it, she blinked in surprise when she realized it was one of his blazers and held it gently up to her face, taking in the faint but comforting smell of him that adorned the material.

At least he had cared enough to leave her something. He wasn’t throwing her out to the wolves just yet.

But while she appreciated the thought, was she really supposed to wear a men's blazer into the office? One that clearly didn’t belong to her? It was hard to find another option in her situation, and it would help hide the fact that she was still wearing yesterday’s outfit at least. It wasn’t like it could be traced back to him either, given that half of the men in the city wore blazers everyday. His just so happened to be a little more tailored than the rest. If anyone asked, she would say it belonged to an old friend and she was just trying out a new look, surely that would suffice. The city of love was the city of fashion, after all.

She studied the blazer for a moment longer, admiring how structured it was before pulling it on, letting out a soft laugh at how much it dwarfed her, the tips of her fingers just peeking past the cuffs of the sleeves. She would definitely need to use her belt to cinch it at the waist if she wanted to pass it off as a statement piece, but at least that was manageable. She could make it work for a day.

Her train of thought was suddenly broken as the ding of the elevator came through the silence, quickly followed by the sound of jangling metal and murmured french–a clear sign that someone had joined her in the apartment. She flushed at the thought of Vincent finding her in the kitchen, engulfed by his jacket as if she had broken into his closet and stolen his clothes in some kind of pathetic attempt to dress up. Quickly, she began fumbling with the buttons, desperate to take the garment off before he could see her, but had only just made it to the last one as footsteps reached the kitchen–some coming from the patterning of tiny feet, and the other ones slower, more confident as they strode through the penthouse, heading in her direction.

She looked up, momentarily frozen with fear until her eyes settled on a crop of red hair and she let out a sigh of relief.

Thank god, it was just Eugene.

He paused in the doorway, watching her for a moment with a look of confusion until his eyes went wide with recognition.

“Miss Prince, you’re awake!”

His accent was slightly thicker than his employer’s, missing the slight English tinge that Vincent often had while speaking, but was still perfectly enunciated.

“Ah, yes…” she started, her hands pulling the blazer tighter around her in an attempt to shield herself from his gaze. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be nosy I just…” she flushed, finally letting go of the fabric and motioning towards the bag on the counter. “He left this behind.”

Eugene stayed silent for a moment before an amused expression crossed his face, and he shook his head.

“Of course, Miss Prince. He intended for you to take it, and you certainly wouldn’t be doing a very good job at snooping around if you had only made it to the kitchen.”

He cracked a smile at that and she felt herself relax a little more, the tension from her shoulders lifting when she realized that this wasn’t his employer she was dealing with. The valet was much more down to earth, thankfully.

“No, I suppose you’re right. Though truth be told I’m still glad you’re the one that came in instead of him. I’m not sure I could handle any more embarrassment this morning.”

She laughed and leaned against the kitchen island, watching as he leant down to unclip his companion–the small pug she had met last night–from his leash, freeing him to come and greet her once more, his tiny feet pattering against the tile as he looked up at her excitedly with a whine. She smiled, bending down to scratch him between the ears.

“And a good morning to you too, Esteban.”

Eugene waited for her to stand back up before he spoke.

“Mr Karm wished for me to escort you to work, if you’d find that agreeable. The metro is usually horrendous at this hour. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemies.”

Something in his tone and the haunted look in his eyes told her it was something he felt strongly about–perhaps coming from a bad personal experience or two.

She nodded, smiling gratefully.

“Sure, that’d be wonderful. Let me just finish up this croissant and then we can–”

She paused, her eyes going wide as she glanced over at the clock on the stove for the first time that morning, realizing just how late for work she already was. She was supposed to be meeting the boss today! Why of all days…

“On second thought…we should probably get going.”

She quickly pulled the blazer on, trying her best to multitask adjusting the fabric while grabbing the paper bag with her only free hand, rapidly making her way to the elevator.

“Ah, Miss Prince–”

Eugene scrambled after her, meeting her in the elevator and pressing the button to take them to the ground floor. The door closed after a moment and he looked back over at her, finding her fumbling with the belt she had tied around the blazer in an attempt to look slightly more presentable. She paused, glancing up at him before dropping her hands with a sigh as he raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry…I didn’t realize how late it was. I should have looked at the clock earlier, but I was a little distracted if I’m being honest…” she shook her head, tucking the paper bag under her arm and straightening her posture with a deep breath. “I know I’m probably not…exactly what you expected…”

“What I expected…?”

“I mean… in terms of Vincent’s soulmate. You probably expected someone a little more…refined. I’m not exactly up to date with the nuances of French opera, or the latest art exhibition unveilings…and I’m hardly put together…”

He watched her for a minute as she glanced away, refusing to make eye contact, before he let out a laugh. She turned to him quickly in confusion, clearly not expecting his reaction.

“What…?” she questioned, raising her eyebrow almost in defiance, but found him watching her with the same tickled expression as before.

“Miss Prince, I think you might be exactly what he needs,” he trailed off, his gaze turning to the doors of the elevator as they opened, and he led them out and towards the car. “It’s really not my place to say, but Monsieur Karm has been stuck in this…”–he paused, gesturing to their surroundings as he opened the car door–”routine, for as long as I’ve worked for him. You’re a surprising breath of fresh air, believe me,” he closed the door, moving to let himself into the driver's seat and meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. “I for one, am very glad you’ve thrown him off his rhythm,” he smiled and started up the car, finally looking towards the road and beginning the drive to her office.

She watched him for a moment, running his words over in her head before a gentle smile crossed her lips and she turned to look out the window, feeling more at ease at the valet’s affirmations. Unspokenly, she was grateful for his voiced opinion, knowing that even to others, that maybe, just maybe, their connection wasn’t as far-fetched as it seemed. He was closed off for now, but that she could work with, if he would only make the effort to let her in.

Besides, even if it didn’t work out, she could always make friends with Eugene instead.

—

Arriving at the office, she thanked Eugene quickly before hurrying out of the car, anxious to get into the building before anyone could notice exactly what kind of car she arrived in. She sighed a breath of relief once she had made it to the elevator unnoticed and checked her watch, relaxing against the bar behind her when she realized they had made it in less time than she thought, luckily only late for the start of her day and not for the scheduled meeting with the CEO that was supposed to be taking place in thirty minutes.

She let her eyes close as the doors of the elevator did, relaxing in a moment of silence that was suddenly interrupted as a hand shot through the doors and they opened once more, a man hurrying inside and taking his place beside her.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in French, catching his breath. “Late for a meeting…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair and leaning against the back wall just as she was.

He was clearly in as much disarray as she was, that was obvious. He held a stack of loose papers under his arm as he straightened his glasses which had gone crooked in his frantic hurrying. He hardly seemed to notice her at first as he straightened himself out, and she got the feeling that this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him, if the state of his outfit was anything to go by. He was dressed well, but not overly so, going for the ease of a tucked in white button-up and dark pants, aiming for neatness but lacking the careful attention that she noticed in Vincent’s attire, his collar unbuttoned and folded to the side. He seemed familiar, but she was having trouble placing exactly where she had seen him before.

Finally, he glanced over to the elevator buttons, tilting his head as he noticed that they were headed to the same floor. He glanced over at her, his blue eyes studying her for a moment before going wide in shock.

“Oh! I didn’t even recognize you!” He added, this time in english. His face eased into a welcoming smile and he held a hand out for her to shake. “You’re Isabelle Prince, right? The new journalist?”

She watched his hand for a minute before reaching out cautiously to shake, a little uneasy about the fact that this man seemed to know exactly who she was while she was still having a hard time placing his face. At least he seemed nice enough…

“That’s me. Ah, excuse me, but I’m not quite sure I recognize you…”

He tilted his head curiously for a moment before letting out a soft laugh.

“My apologies, I should have introduced myself first.” He shook her hand in turn. “Raphael Laurent,” he announced, letting go of her hand and straightening the papers under his arm once more. “I must admit, I’m rather relieved to see you here…I thought I was the only one who was going to be late to our meeting, but I’m glad to see we’re both here at the same time!”

Her eyes went wide in realization that she was standing in front of her boss, having forgotten what he looked like and almost shutting him out of the elevator after arriving at work over an hour late. Though if he seemed to care, he hadn’t shown it. For once, she was grateful that her boss wasn’t as put together as she had expected him to be…

“Ah, it won’t be a habit, I promise. My first week here in the city has been rather…disorienting.”

He laughed as the elevator chimed, motioning for her to step out first before he followed. It seemed he had bought her excuse–either he was overlooking her choice in fashion or he was blissfully naive about its implications, but either way, she was relieved that she had managed to escape any questioning glances on his part.

“Don’t worry, I completely understand. Paris can be a labyrinth at the best of times, even for us natives. But I promise, it does get better,” he assured, sending her a small, encouraging smile before he glanced around the room, ensuring that everything had been running smoothly in his absence. Seemingly satisfied, he turned back to her, adding, “I’ll give you some time to get to your desk and get settled. Feel free to come knock on my door as soon as you’re ready to talk.”

“Right, I’ll be there shortly then!” she nodded and trailed off, glancing over to her side of the office but not stepping away in case he wasn’t finished.

He smiled again, this time a little more strained as the awkward silence stretched between them, the both of them seemingly unsure of whether or not they should say anything else. Finally though, he sent her a small nod and went his own way, and she let out a breath of relief, making her way to her desk and setting down her bag.

Well that could’ve gone better. At least he hadn’t made any comments about her fashion taste–something she knew she’d have to deal with once Louise laid her eyes on her.

Gathering her thoughts, she sorted through her bag, pulling out the notebook she often kept on her for any haphazard or investigative notes, the sturdy cover worn from heavy use over the last few months. It took her another moment to locate her lucky pen–a turquoise pilot G-7 that Kat had given her to study for exams with back in their undergrad days. She had used it on almost every investigation so far, and she couldn’t imagine trying to start a new case without it, especially not in an unfamiliar city.

She had just tucked her bag away beneath her desk when a voice came from behind her, and she jumped, her head nearly missing the edge of the desk as she stood back up, turning to face whoever had snuck up on her with a harsh glare.

Of course. She should have known.

“Glad to see you didn’t actually fall off the face of the earth. I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up today.”

Marion watched her with crossed arms, an amused expression twinkling in her eyes as she studied the journalist’s outfit, no doubt running her own calculations in her head. Isabelle rolled her eyes and straightened her outfit before mirroring Marion’s stance, crossing her arms and shifting her weight onto her back leg.

“You know, it’s common courtesy to announce your presence when someone’s busy, especially when they’re in a precarious position.”

The other woman let out a laugh, her posture relaxing as she looked Isabelle over, her eyes narrowing as she eyed the blazer Isabelle had on.

“Oh, I bet you were in a precarious position. Is that why you’re late to work?” she teased, beginning to circle her as a shark would its prey. “Whose closet did you steal this from…and where can I get his number?”

“Marion please,” she sighed and rolled her eyes once more, pulling the blazer tighter around her. “It’s not what you think, alright? Just a…clothing mishap…a mistake…it happens,” she trailed off, doing her best to try and redirect the conversation. It was better that Marion think it was something casual anyways–the last thing she needed right now was for her coworkers to find out she was seeing the competition, especially when said coworker had been drooling over the competition just the day prior. “Besides, I didn’t miss anything important, did I?”

Marion watched her for a moment with an incredulous expression before sighing and rolling her eyes, making her way back to her own desk.

“Not really. Louise is out today anyways, so you got lucky. Something about finding a babysitter,” she trailed off, sitting down and crossing her legs with a bored look. “The only exciting thing I’ve heard today is that apparently the boss is in, though I haven’t gotten the chance to see him yet. I’ve heard he’s handsome too…” she hummed, wiggling her eyebrows with a laugh.

Isabelle rolled her eyes but cracked a smile nonetheless, pushing her chair back under the desk.

“Is that actually all you care about?” she laughed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re working at one of the most prestigious magazines in the city and you can only focus on how hot your boss is. Honestly…” She shook her head with another grin.

“Hey! I’m just looking out for my future. You can’t fault a girl for trying to set herself up!” She frowned, tilting her head as Isabelle turned and began walking away. “Wait, where are you going?”

She had a point, Isabelle supposed. There was certainly nothing wrong with trying to find herself a catch, the journalist just had other priorities, though she wasn’t sure how biased she was given that she had already met her soulmate, and he already ticked most of the boxes for what a person could want in a partner…or at least, what Marion wanted in a partner.

“I’ll be back. I’ve got a meeting with the boss,” she grinned back at her, sending her a wink before turning and continuing on. “I’ll let you know if you’re right or not.

She heard Marion let out a small gasp before she rounded the corner, leaving her line of sight. She would certainly be getting an earful once she got back, but she really couldn’t help herself from a little bit of teasing when Marion made it so easy to begin with.

But that was a problem for later. Now, it was time to finally find out what she had been brought here to do.

She hoped the job description hadn’t been lying when it had promised the adventure of a lifetime.

#rêvant de toi #chapter 6 #colp #cityoflove #vincent karm #cityofloveparis #mcxvincent #vincent x mc #soulmate au

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parisianprinceling · 2 years

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Rumors

(on AO3 here)

Vampy Vincent is back (this is very crack-ish, and not proofread, so take it with a grain of salt please, it's just for funnies to get me through finals).

Vampires weren’t real–or so she told herself.

But if anyone were to fit the title, Vincent Karm would be a deadringer.

Tall, dark, and handsome, her fiancé played the role of the mysterious CEO so well he could have stepped out of one of the cheesy romance novels on her bookshelf. The grace with which he carried himself was almost inhuman at times, never losing his balance or stepping on anyone’s toes. His reflexes mimicked those of a cat’s, always aware of all the moving parts around him and evading any collisions within milliseconds.

It didn’t help that he liked playing into the “big bad wolf” persona that TJ had pointed out all that time ago when she had asked him if Vincent actually came from the middle ages–though to be fair, she didn’t know anyone else that dressed in a three-piece suit everyday and spoke as if they were a character in some gothic, Byronian novel.

She had learned to accept his eccentricities as they came. They hadn’t given her any real cause for alarm, he was just dramatic. That was all.

It wasn’t until almost four years later, after the events that had led to their eventual romantic union and she began living with him, that she began to notice how odd his behaviors really were.

To begin with, the man didn’t sleep. Or at least she could never seem to catch him in the act itself. He was always the last to come to bed and the earliest to rise, and on the rare nights where they got in bed at the same time, he had always disappeared by the time she woke up, like he had never really settled in at all. Some nights, she wasn’t even sure if he had come to bed, waking up to half of a perfectly made bed and finding him poised in the kitchen, reading the morning newspaper with a cup of coffee in hand.

But even when she wasn’t half asleep, his behavior was decidedly strange at times.

He preferred his steaks nearly raw, and while she could understand the value of a rare steak, his were always practically still bleeding when he cut into them, the juices as red as the wine–or what she hoped was wine–in his glass. As red as the wine he often drank at parties with his signature sly smirk, keeping a sharp eye on all his guests as they moved across the room, tracking their every move with precision as if he was sizing them up. Before, she had just thought it was part of his cunning nature, keeping tabs on potential prospects, but after spending more time with him and observing his strange behaviors more and more, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was keeping tabs on potential meals instead.

Still, there were no such things as vampires. Their existence wasn’t scientifically possible, and even if it was, she was sure it would have been more obvious to her that she was engaged to one. After all, no one could have a warm meal dangled in front of their face everyday without being tempted enough to take a little bite.

So there was no need for her to worry. She just needed to let it go.

Unless…

There was no harm in making sure, right?

At least, that’s what she had thought before everything had gone wrong.

Trying to catch him ended up being much harder than she thought as she found herself with a half-finished dinner, the garlic bread she was planning on presenting to him reduced to smoking charcoal that was stuck to a pan sitting on the stovetop. Though he had entered with a handkerchief covering his nose, she had no way of telling if it was because of the overwhelming garlic scent or because he was simply afraid of inhaling the fumes in the kitchen that had been created by her failed attempt, and she couldn’t fault him for that.

Even plan B had failed, if the small bandaid on her finger was anything to go by. After dinner she had pricked the tip of her finger while cleaning up the dishes, turning to him as a small droplet of blood rose to the surface. But instead of a crazed reaction, she had only received a sigh in response as he gathered the first aid kit, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and begging her to pay more attention to her surroundings.

By the end of the night, she had to concede. Whatever plans she could have used to test him had all fallen apart without any real evidence to back up her suspicions. He was just a normal human after all, albeit an outlandishly melodramatic one at that.

And so, here she was, defeated, her head resting against his chest as they snuggled up on the couch while the night came to a close. He had shed his jacket and waistcoat to avoid creasing the fabric and was laying back against the armrest of the couch, making room for her between his arms and the book he was currently flipping through, a pair of wire-rimmed reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry I burnt dinner,” she sighed, lifting her head to look up at him. “I’m sure you were hoping for an actual meal after a long day of work…”

He glanced down at her before laughing softly and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“The effort was appreciated nonetheless, Isabelle, “ he smiled and closed his book before sliding off his glasses, setting them both down on the coffee table beside them. “Even if it’ll take weeks for the smell of garlic to leave my clothes,” he teased, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a light squeeze.

She rolled her eyes, her face warming in embarrassment.

“You’ll survive,” she sighed and rested her head back against him, letting her eyes close as she got cozy in his arms, her guard falling in his comforting presence. “I’m just glad you didn’t run away screaming.”

He paused, watching her with an amused, questioning expression.

“Why would I have run away screaming, chérie?”

Oh fuck. Now she blew it. If he didn’t think she was crazy after all of her stunts at dinner, he certainly was going to think she was now.

She groaned, burying her face further into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to muffle her words.

“Because I thought you were a vampire,” she mumbled.

“What was that?” he prompted, finding her evasion attempt rather amusing.

“Because…” she sighed, lifting her head back up again to look him in the eyes. “Because I thought you were a vampire…”

She could feel him tense beneath her, his face unreadable as he processed her words.

“A…vampire?” he questioned.

She opened her mouth to respond, afraid she might have offended him in some way, but was cut off quickly as he suddenly burst into laughter.

“You thought I was a vampire?!” he questioned incredulously, his laughter trailing off slightly but not dissipating entirely, clearly tickled by her admission. “Is that why you were cooking with that ungodly amount of garlic?” He chuckled, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb.

She sighed and nodded, her cheeks a bright shade of pink that matched her utter humiliation.

“I know… it’s stupid. I just figured…–”

He shook his head, silencing her gently with a finger as he grinned down at her.

“It’s certainly not stupid, ma chérie,” he purred. “It’s actually quite clever.”

Now it was her turn to be confused. What did he mean by that? She had done nothing but embarrass herself all night, and he thought she was being clever? Surely he must have been trying to save her dignity.

“I’d hardly call any part of tonight clever, but I appreciate your effort at salvaging my pride.”

He watched her for a moment with the same amused expression before she suddenly found herself being flipped over, her fiancé situating himself on top of her with a mischievous grin.

“Vincent–” she objected, quickly cut off by the intoxicating feeling of his lips against her skin as he leant in and began a line of kisses down from her jaw, his head settling into the crook of her neck. Her breath caught in her throat and she leaned back, unwittingly offering more of her neck for him to cover with his practiced affections. “What… what are you doing?”

“What if I said you were right, hm?” he purred, continuing his kisses as far down as he could, reaching the hem of her collar, just precariously above the line of her bust, before lifting his head back up to meet her gaze, eyes narrowed and lips curved into his signature smirk.

“Would you flee? Or would you find it exhilarating, knowing that all this time you had been at the mercy of a big, bad vampire?” he teased as he leant in, his warm breath gently brushing against her lips.

Far too wound up to give a true objection to his taunting, she gave a half assed response as she pulled him in closer, seeking to close the gap between their lips.

“Oh please,” she purred back with a grin of her own. “Bite me.”

A chuckle reverberated through his chest as he pulled back to look down at her once more with a wide, wolfish grin, finally revealing a pair of dangerously sharp incisors that she hadn’t noticed before.

“If you insist, mon chou,” he crooned, brushing his finger softly against her cheek. “But you really should be careful what you wish for. You never know what might come true.”

No. This couldn’t be happening. After all of that, this is how she found out?!

He leaned his head back down to slowly work kisses against her neck once again, only this time, she was frozen in place, unable to react as she processed the fact that she had been right all along. Her fiancé was a vampire, and he currently had his fangs extremely close to her jugular, much too close for comfort.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked finally, her voice so quiet she might as well have not said anything at all.

He paused, halting his kisses before he jerked back away from her suddenly, the mischievous expression on his face melting into one of dubious amazement, as if he was offended by her question.

“Isabelle…really?” he prompted with a furled brow, putting some space between the two of them.

She blinked at his incredulous reaction, pushing herself up to a sitting position as he pulled back, still watching him with a cautious, yet confused look.

“What?!” she questioned back, her own eyebrows raising to mirror his own. “You just… flash your fangs at me and expect me to think you’re not about to drain me? After that little speech?”

He watched her for another moment with a blank stare before closing his eyes, a hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose as he exhaled and clenched his jaw–a signal of his obvious annoyance.

“Isabelle, why would I kill you? I was trying to seduce you!”

“Because I just discovered your big secret…?” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

After a minute of watching her through narrowed eyes, he sighed, gently gripping onto her wrists with his hands.

“Ma chérie,” he started. “I just willingly told you my big secret,” he raised an eyebrow pointedly. “Not to mention, you’re my fiancée. I’m certainly not going to kill the woman I’m betrothed to. That would make me terrible husband material.”

She watched him for another moment, not pulling her wrists away but not trusting him fully yet after he had just whipped out his mouth-knives and put them so close to her neck.

“You promise?” she questioned cautiously. “You aren’t just using me so you can eventually sink your teeth into my delicious veins?”

He rolled his eyes, moving his hands slightly to entwine his fingers with hers.

“No Isabelle, I’m not using you to get to your delicious veins, I promise,” he started, pausing after a minute and tilting his head with his signature sly grin. “Though I wouldn’t turn the offer down, if you asked,” he purred. “I’m sure you taste divine.”

She immediately glared at him, offended that he would even mention such a thing after just assuring her that he wasn’t out to use her as a blood bag. He shot her back an innocent look.

“Okay, okay! It was a joke,” he laughed softly and wrapped his arms back around her, pulling her back against him in a tender hug.

She sighed and relaxed back into him, feeling much better now that she knew her fiancé, who was a vampire after all, wasn’t going to be draining her with his shiny fangs anytime soon, or at least, as long as she didn’t want him to.

Weirdly enough though, it was somewhat exhilarating to know that she was at the mercy of the big, bad vampire after all. There was just something appealing about being in such close proximity to danger, something she couldn’t describe, regardless of how she had reacted before. Knowing that she had control over the situation…

It was actually kind of sexy.

“You know what?” she paused, pulling back to meet his gaze. “On second thought, why don’t we revisit that option?”

She was met with the same wolfish grin as before and the two of them fell back against the couch to resume what they had started, fangs included.

Maybe having a vampire as a fiancé wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#vampireau #city of love: paris #colp #vincent karm #vincentkarm #mcxvincent #vincent x mc #rumors #crack-ish #fluffy #idk what this is

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