Disclaimer: Not mine. Used without permission. No money being made.
Notes: Response to the 100 word "romantic" drabble challenge on Nummy Treats. This is my first posted S/X stuff. Chipless Spike.
The lack of a heartbeat and the chill of his skin don't bother me. It's the smell and taste of death that permeates him, lingering even under the heavy flavor of cigarettes and cheap whiskey. Always there, always reminding me that he kills to live. His body moves, his voice speaks, all at the expense of others' lives. But when he is above me, torso arching backwards, hips thrusting forward, I find I don't care that the flush of his skin is caused by stolen blood or that the hardness buried deep within me comes with an incalculable, deadly price.