My desire to feel the ecstasy that Anastasia brings has once again overcome my common sense. Not only have I declared herself as mine in front of a room full of Vampires, but I have pushed her away in the same breath.

Now, if I thought this forsaken ball was over, I am so sorely mistaken for Dante has decided to have a sit-down. Why does one come with the idea that a bunch of Vampires should sit around a table and drink blood from a wine glass is purely beyond me.

But do wait for the worst part of this; the man has so conveniently seated Anastasia next to me. Now is this tortured bliss or a pure act of a game that we have played for many years. I am hinting at both, for that vanilla is attacking my senses, but there is something else this time. It is lily; she has adorned her body in the sweet smell of lily and vanilla. How have I missed this before? The mere thought of the sweetness makes me want to delve my body into hers.

But then the man makes one very fatal mistake; he comes to take a seat on the other side of Anastasia. Now, who is feeling the most uncomfortable pressure between Anastasia and me is yet to be known. Though, I yet again feel that this has been done on purpose. And this shall be purposely hard as I once again feel the urge to take the woman that I love and express with my lips what some parts of me still feels for her.

And when she speaks next, my body tingles at the mere words that sound like the whispers of angels. That carefree laughter that comes so easily sends a toe-curling electricity to every corner of my being. But what is the most torture is when she accidentally brushes her hand against me, my entire skin goes numb, and every bone in my body feels that it will simply break apart if I cannot feel one brief moment of it again.

Then from nowhere whatsoever did I expect, I watch her uncup those deep red stilettos off her feet underneath the table. She slowly hooks her foot around my leg, rubbing strokes that can set my heart bursting out of my chest; my body freezes, and I choke on the glass I am holding in my hand.

Dante, very well knowing the game they are playing, has the nerve to ask, "Master, are you okay?"

"Perfectly fine Dante, I thought I felt something creeping up my leg."

But her game is not yet done; she gently lays her hand onto my knee and slowly, agonizingly slowly, run her delicate fingers up between my thighs. My breath hitches and I spill half the contents of my glass over the table.

Once again, the man just smiles with a goddamn smirk on his face that I so wish I can slap off, "Master, are you sure that all is fine."

"Yes, Dante, some pesky insect just landed itself on my knee. You surely should look at exterminating these pesky little bugs."

And just as I thought she could not do any worse, those damn fingers, long eloquent fingers, slowly slides over an ever-growing hard-on, only caused by her. The mere touch of her hand sends me over the edge.

"Oh my god," I exclaim while she wickedly smiles at me. I return mine with a somewhat frustrated and pained grin on my face.

So much to my delight, the evening winds down, and Edward and me, find our way faster to the car than any man can breathe. Once I fall back into the seat, I sigh in relief, much to Edward's amusement. It takes a few rapid breaths to gain my composure again.

Then Edward very bravely turns to me, "My dear brother, please explain why you insist to be apart from the woman that clearly sets you aflame?"

"It is that damn perfume; it captivated me the very first day I laid my eyes on her, and yet it still captivates me, but only this time the was wearing a far greater fragrance than I have ever had the privilege to smell on her body."

"Did you have any idea what you just said?"

"No, and kindly do not ask me to repeat it. Now please get us home before I have to accidentally bump into her again."

"Do you still want me to find her another place to stay?"

Now the true question begs, do I want to keep a woman that I clearly do not want around. Whom am I fooling in saying this? I do truly want her to be so close to me. My problem, if I should admit, is that I do not take well with rejection. Now any man with such an ego as me shall feel the exact way.

But further, though, does she want to stay in the Belmont House, even if she might feel that she is not welcome. In fact, I can gather that she might, in fact, do, for I have made it very clear that I do not wish to have her around.

Running with a million thoughts through my mind, I soon find the comfort of my room. Here I can hide with my thoughts, and no one shall see the battle I am fighting with myself. So the question once again comes to mind. Do I wish for Anastasia to stay?

Then before all reason can stop me, I am standing outside her room, trying to find the courage to knock on her door. A few attempts close, she slowly opens the door; of course, she is going to sense me. How absent-minded I can be, or shall I say plain well dumb.

Before I can get the words to flow from my lips, she cocks her head and questionably stares at me, piercing those blue eyes completely through me.

"Sebastian, is something wrong?"

"May I come in?"

"Of course," she says as she straightens her lace underwear, god; she is not dressed. Maybe I should come back later for this conversation. But seeing her sway her hips torturously stops all reasoning, and I follow her like a hungry animal that is about to consume the very thing he is desiring at the present moment.

So it is with a rather big lump in my throat that I try to speak the very words I came here to say to her.

"Anastasia, if you wish to remain here, I can gladly say that I shall not have any problem in allowing you."

"Are you sure? I do truly not want to go stay with Dante."

A new rage of fire sets aflame in the deepest darkest corners of a heart that is now about to explode, "In that case, I insist."

"Are you perhaps jealous?"

"Me? Jealous? No such thing. The man shall take your heart and break it too easily."

"Almost like you."

Her words hit me like and knock every reason to have felt an ounce of kindness towards her. But I stop and think that this is such a truth that she speaks. I shall stick this ego where it belongs and take whatever needs to come to me.

"I am so sorry, Anastasia. Never was it my intention to hurt you."

She reaches her hand out to me, that scent of Lily and Vanilla captures all my senses again; I stop for a minute and say what I truly feel, "I love that fragrance on you."

"Thank you; I bought it in Paris when we were looking for you. I thought that you might like it.

Then all those memories come flooding back to me, the way she gave everything she had to find me after one more woman tried to take revenge on me. I take her hand in mine and place it gently against my face; I need to feel the softness that she brings. The thought of her body near me, just the whisper of my imagination, and I am incapacitated. There is no thought, nor focus, only the desire and the pain of wanting.

With every craving part of me, I shift closer to her. I can feel her lean body pressed up against mine. I feel her warmth, and already my mind has placed our lips together. But instead, she leans in to caress my neck, slow and gentle. She is making me wait, and I can hardly bear it. I want her lips now; I want her kisses. Then she cups my face in her hands and gives me what she knows I want. Just one kiss starts a fire within me no one else could ever ignite.

I close my eyes and savor every feeling, every sensation she brings to my body, then slowly I pull away. I want to take her body; I want to make love to the woman that I know brings the only joy to me. She looks at me deeply, beyond this man that is trying to hide behind his anger.

"Sebastian?"

"Ssshhh. Before I go, I want to say something. You have bewitched me from the very moment that I laid my eyes are you. I am not going to lie when I say this, but you are mine. You are the only one that could reach inside me and tame this beast."

I watch as the words come to mind but never leaves her lips, she has been rendered speechless.

"The thing is, Anastasia, there is no perfect lover; we are all flawed, but knowing those flawless and still loving with all your heart creates perfect love. I will never look further than you, my love. If my heart is a flower waiting to bloom, your love is the only sunshine it needs."

"Sebastian?"

"Wait, I am not yet done. I love you like you are the last of my kind. It is as if you speak the same language as I, yet no other is able. To be around you is like finally not being alone, as if all my life I have been isolated, in a windowless room, in a doorless room, and then suddenly you walk in as if strolling over a summer meadow. How is it that you are so much more than sunshine? How is it you breathe life when no other can? Why is it you are my medicine? Who could love me more than you? So, my love, know this, while I still walk this plain, I am yours in mind, body, and soul."

These words bring tears to my eyes, and I know that if she were able to, she would be locked in my embrace and allow the same emotions to consume her. But the question here really is…

"Anastasia, I have been a fool. But a fool with a cautious heart. Would it be so selfish to beg for you to just give me a little bit more time?"

"Sebastian, I love you. Love says I forgive you when you falter. Love says though life may test me, I am yours into eternity, and I will never abandon you. I will even if it takes longer than an eternity."