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Comforting Reflections

"Excuse me," murmured the young woman to the old terrier across counter, speaking softly so that he nearly had to lean across the glass to hear her. "How much for that mirror over there?"

It had caught her eye as she browsed the shop of antiques, knick-knacks and plain old junk. The bat enjoyed enjoyed such places when she bothered to venture out in her free time, letting her eyes of soft fuchsia roam over old heirlooms and trinkets, brushing her fingers over old pages of books with yellowed pages, thinking of all the objects, worn with age and use, that were once invaluable to someone, now sitting in a shop, collecting dust, marked at a discount price. It was comforting, somehow, in a way she could not describe, and the feeling was only eclipsed by those few times she found something that seemed to cling to her thoughts like a burr to cloth, and was able to rescue it and give it a home once more. The mirror was one such thing, she only hoped it wasn't too expensive.

The shopkeeper blinked and gazed in the direction of her pointed finger, spying the item of her desire, and smirked. "Ah, good eye," he stated happily, a slight waver of his age creeping into his voice. "Fine craftsmanship on that one, quite old, and in pretty good condition for how long it's been passed around." His eyes turned back to her, the shrewd gaze of merchant peddling his wares. "Cost me a pretty penny just to get it, and I can't see myself letting go of it for more than... say..." The canine made a show of considering the matter, scratching his chin as he did so. "Two hundred?" He nodded sharply, confirming it with himself. "Yes, two hundred, even."

Her heart fell at that, the price rising well out of her range for pleasure spending. Her shoulders slumped, she frowned ever slightly and ran her hands over her arms as if comforting herself, fingers brushing through her soft, purple fur. "I can't afford that," she said quietly, more to herself than to the man, but he answered all the same, not wanting to lose a sale.

"Well, I say, it _has_been hanging around here for quite some time... and you _do_seem rather set on it..." The hopeful look that sparked in her eyes at his words told him enough, and he gave a genuine, warm smile. "I must be getting sentimental... Tell you what, I'll let you have it for one-twenty. I'll hold it for you, even, if you don't have the cash right now. One month; how does that sound?"

The young bat gave a small smile at that, seeming relieved, and nodded slightly. "Yes, thank you."

"You're very welcome, young lady." The terrier took out a pad and pencil, jotting down the details as he made a note for himself. "I suppose I'll see you in a month, miss...?"

"Victoria," she affirmed in her gentle voice. "My name's Victoria."

***

The month passed slow, too slow for her liking. The mirror hung in her memory as easily as it had hung on the wall in that shop, and every day she thought of it, the more she longed for it. She thought of it at work, pushing through her shift with ease, emboldened by the thought that every hour brought it closer to her. She cleared away a spot on the wall of her apartment, the perfect spot for it, just across from her bed. Even as she would nestle into the companionship of her books, it remained, tugging at the back of her mind. Still, the days seemed to creep with a snail's pace, all the more as she neared the day she would either have it or lose it.

When at last that day came, paycheck cashed, money in hand, she wasted no time in making her way to the store where it awaited her. She was relieved to see it still there, upon the wall, as if, somehow, it would have been lost, destroyed, or sold to another, despite the owner's assurances. The elder canine perked up at the chime of bells that accompanied the opening of the door of his shop, easily recognizing the girl and offering that warm smile again. "Ah, yes, come back for the mirror, eh?" The man shuffled through the papers by the register, behind his counter of burnished wood and polished glass, until he found what he sought. "Victoria, wasn't it? Yes, one hundred twenty dollars and it's all yours."

Wordlessly, she offered the money, handing it over easily, glancing back at the mirror even as the terrier counted it out.

"... Sixty, eighty, a hundred, aaaand twenty. There we go." The man slipped the bills into his register and offered a hand out to her, which she took with a little nervous reluctance, but was sincerely grateful for his kindness. "Congratulations, enjoy it."

"I will," she said simply before moving over to begin retrieving it from where it hung. "Thank you, again."

***

Getting it home was no simple task. Large and heavy, it was unwieldy, and she went to lengths to be extra careful as she moved it. Nearly two hours after she left the shop, she finally sat upon the edge of her bed, breath coming a little heavy, a light sheen of sweat upon her brow, but immensely satisfied as she gazed into her own reflection through that mirror, now mounted in that space she saved just for it. Full length, it was large enough that she could easily stand straight up and see her own reflection, secured in a frame of finely-wrought iron, twisted into tight spirals and graceful swirls, spreading a few inches out, like vines claiming the wall they grew upon. Indeed, the way they seemed to weave and taper off into the the plaster made it seem as if it had always been there, built into the very building.

It was with no small amount of satisfaction that she admired it, proud of herself. Even more than the frame, though, was the mirrored glass itself. Though no more or less a mirror than any other, there was something about it that caught her eye then, when she first saw it, and now as she rose to get a better look at herself within it. Tall, more so than most other women, with a delicate bone structure underneath her violet fur, she never considered herself unattractive, even with a little chubbiness that some other women might be uncomfortable with.

Still, to see herself in that mirror, it wasn't like other ones. Her features seemed to shine, the color of her eyes and fur nearly glowing like fire, the curves of her breast and hips seemed more accentuated, voluptuous, she would dare even say, but more so than the color or form was the _gaze_of that other her that looked back through the glass. The way it looked at her, the way it looked _into_her, was at the same time unnerving and exhilarating, as if it saw something beautiful in her that no one else, not even her, ever did.

Only with a gentle grumble of her stomach, reminding her that she had not eaten since that morning, did she tear herself away from that mirror. Yet, though she busied herself with cooking a light dinner, watching her favorite TV show, and reached a few chapters of a book as she curled up on the couch, that image of her other self gazing in at her remained imprinted on her mind. She would think of it between the turning of the pages, and a contented smile would play across her lips.

***

That morning the phone rang, waking Victoria from her peaceful slumber, the voice of her mother on the other end. It was the typical back and forth, a prelude to an invitation for the two to catch up over lunch. She didn't really feel like going, as most meetings with Valencia ended with heated words and hurt emotions, but somehow she felt like she could handle it today, and, besides, it had been a while since they spoke face to face.

So, Victoria found herself sitting on the terrace of a nearby cafe, one of her favorites, a place that made her feel safe, as she sipped on a fragrant cup of tea and waited. A hint of apprehension played with her nerves, but the sanctuary of the cafe helped. As the sun neared its zenith the air was warm but swept down the street in a soft breath that cooled the skin and sent the steam coming off the top of her cup swirling into the air. Though well into the city, this place always had a delightful gathering of trees lining the streets, and bushes along the outer walls of the building, and nearby birds sang their songs of spring. It was peaceful, so much so that she had nearly forgotten all about the woman joining her, until her mother appeared before her, a smile upon her chiropteran features.

"Victoria, so good to see you!" Valencia said, arms outstretched which her daughter rose to meet, wearing a small smile of her own as they embraced in a tight hug. "I'm glad we were able to find some time for each other."

"Me too, mom." It wasn't a lie, she loved her mother, a fact made clear as they held each other for a moment before seating themselves on opposite ends of the small, wrought metal table, still smiling at each other.

"How's work going?" The older woman asked, gesturing for a nearby waiter with a wave of her furred hand, the same color as Victoria's but a bit of a darker purple. "Keeping you busy, but not _too_busy, I hope?"

"It's going well, not too busy though, but I did pick up a few extra hours these past few weeks."

"Oh?" she said as the waiter approached, ordering a latte for herself and a light salad for the both of them, as she would usually do. "Good for you, it's always nice to have a little extra money around. Saving up for a better apartment?"

Victoria wanted to roll her eyes but chose not to do so. She liked her apartment just fine. It wasn't the biggest or the prettiest, but it was cozy and suited her just fine. "Actually, I bought an antique mirror." She admitted, running a clawed finger along the iron of the table, finding that it reminded her incredibly of the frame of the same mirror of which she spoke. "It's lovely, you'd like it, brightens the place up."

"You always did like your antiques, didn't you?" Her mother sighed, obviously not hearing what she wanted to, but saying no more on it.

It wasn't long before the meal came and the chatted between eating their salads, talking about how they rest of the family was doing, about friends both old and new, about new happenings in their life. Most of it was on her mother's end, and Victoria preferred it that way. She knew she didn't have much going on in her life these days, but she was comfortable, and that was enough. They talked more than they ate, but before long they had set their plates and cups aside, the waiter coming forward again to slide the check between them and carry away their dishes, the young fox giving a bright smile to the both of them as he whisked away.

"He's a cute one, isn't he?" Valencia said with a wink, picking up the receipt between claws painted scarlet.

Her daughter tensed, fearing this topic. She had hoped that it wouldn't come, not today, and tried to play it off with what she hoped looked like a disinterested shrug, her bright eyes turning to her empty cup, wishing she hadn't finished her tea so quickly.

Valencia chuckled, slipping a few bills onto the table. "I'm just teasing, hun, though it hurts no one to look. Have you ever thought about asking him out?"

"Mom, please..." Victoria responded softly, her eyes soft and pleading, silently asking her mother not to go down this road again.

"I was just asking." To her credit, the older bat's tone was apologetic, but pressing. "I just worry about you, that's all. I don't like you being alone all the time."

"I don't want to talk about this again. Please, mom..." Something turned inside her at just the broaching of the subject, something cold inside her stomach, heavy, sickening. She didn't want to be reminded, she didn't want to think about it.

"It's just not fair. It's not fair that you have to be afraid to try again, just because of Christo and-"

"MOM! STOP IT!" Victoria shouted, finding herself suddenly standing, fingers gripping the table with a death-grip, with eyes of the other customers staring at her, some in concern, some in unease, some upset at the interruption. The attention only made her feel more ill, as if she would be sick, while her heart pounded hot blood through her.

Her mother looked at her, a plaintive expression on her face, realizing she went too far again, but it was all too much for Victoria. Tears starting to well at the corner of her eyes, she all but tore her jacket from the back of her chair and walked with a hurried pace off the terrace and down the sidewalk, leaving her mother behind, Valencia's voice calling worriedly after her, concern lending it a higher pitch than normal. The daughter could only ignore it and quicken her steps even more, wanting nothing more at that moment than the safety and sanctity of her home.

***

She had burst through the door, tossing her jacket wantonly aside, barely managing to slam it shut before sobs started to wrack her body. She collapsed against the cool wood of that door, sliding down and falling to her knees before it, fists balled against it. Hot tears ran down her cheeks unchecked, dripping off her chin onto the floor below with a soft pattering sound. No more!_She screamed within the confines of her mind, not even certain what she was addressing, only knowing she wanted that familiar pain to go away again. _Please... no more!

Her stomach had tightened into a knot and now seemed to do flips within her, as that cursed lunch now threatened to rise in her throat. Her blood, seeming like fire before, now turned to ice in her veins as all strength seemed to leave her. Minutes passed before she could move so much as an inch, near an hour until she found the will to carry herself to her bedroom, collapsing onto the sheets as if it had taken all she had to do that much. Victoria buried her face into her pillow, shuddering as errant sobs tore through her.

Finally managing the will once again, she turned her face towards the nearby window, not even bothering to feel surprised at the sight of the setting sun. It painted the walls in a deepening red, fading to a purple that washed the rooms in the same color as her fur, and there was some comfort in that. She looked down, past the foot of her bed, to that mirror that hung upon the wall, and saw herself there, upon the bed, the dying sunlight shining against her tear-stained cheeks and her tired eyes. As she looked, a feeling came over her, an odd peace, a feeling she hadn't felt in years. There was pity in the eyes of that bat that looked back at her. Not the pity of a mother, or of a bystander who would look down at her, not even the pity she felt for herself more often than not. It was the pity of someone who loved her, and before she could even realize the weariness of her body, she nestled her head against the pillow and slept a peaceful sleep, unlike any she had experienced before.

***

Dreams, fleeting and insubstantial, misshapen machinations of a weary and troubled mind. Dreams of silver, of a gentle chill flowing over the sleeping form of Victoria, only to grow warm and soft as it wrapped her in its embrace. A touch, a stroke of fingers against the violet fur of her arm, her own hand instinctively moving to cover it only to feel the smooth texture of... "... glass?" She awoke with a start and, the word clumsily falling from her tongue, thick with sleep and seeming dry as paper. Her bleary eyes searched the bed, the darkened room, anywhere they could see for the source of the sensation, but saw nothing out of place or foreign. A dream... She thought, rolling herself into an upright position, running clawed fingers through her dark, blue hair, still tied in a braid from before.

She smacked her dry lips, disliking the taste that sat in her mouth. She realized she hadn't as much as undressed, let alone brush her teeth or any of the sort. As she let the cool air fill her lungs in a deep breath, she looked out the window to see the fingers of sunlight creep over the horizon, a precursor of the coming day. The bat rose from her bed to meet it, stretching with a soft groan, feeling more rested that she ever remembered being. For a brief moment she held a gentle smile, a serenity, a satisfaction, but the memories of the previous day returned, carrying the weight of the emotions that accompanied them, albeit less potent than before; a dull ache rather than a sharp pain. She wished she had not remembered. She wished she could have forgotten and been as happy as she had in that brief moment for the rest of the day, or longer... but wishing never did her any favors before.

A shower, a quick breakfast, a brushing of her sharp teeth, a change of clothes, and Victoria felt a bit more like her usual self, the self she had learned to live with. She would not go out that day, not if she could help it. She needed the safety and comfort of her own home, she needed the privacy to repair the walls in which her mother had torn holes, to redress the unhealed wounds. Books, these were as much a home to her as the walls that surrounded her, and she lost herself in them. The hours passed, unheeded, stopping only to feed a growing hunger, or to give her eyes a rest, before returning to those pages filled with worlds and people, infinite in number. Night had returned before she realized it, demanding her attention only when it grew difficult to read the words before her. Rather than turn on the lights, she thought of that blissful sleep that had graced her the previous night and yearned for it. For that peace it bestowed her if only for the night. For that brief moment of happiness in the morning. With such thoughts flitting through her head she readied herself for sleep and slid between the sheets of her bed, willing that sleep to come as it had before.

It did not. Minutes passed. An hour. _Two_hours. Victoria tossed and turned, silently begging for that rest, but every time she reached for it, it danced maddeningly just out of her reach. She was tired now, as time seemed to bleed away into the night, not just wanting sleep now but _needing_it. Still, it did not come.

With a frustrated shout she sat upright and tossed the covers off her and sat back against her pillows as she drew her knees up under her chin. Hugging her legs against her as tight as she could, her wings covering them like a warm blanket, she buried her face into her arms and shuddered. She didn't want the tears to come again. She willed them away with a vengeance, but they came anyway. Tears of anger, tears of frustration, tears of an untold number of emotions she couldn't even begin to quantify or name. _What was it?!_She wracked her brain, trying to come up with an answer.What could possibly have given her that sleep, that peace? Realization crept into her mind as the bat's head rose, eyes pointed forward, across the bedding and floor, up onto the wall and into the mirror, where those orbs of fuchsia stared right back, seeming almost to glow in the darkness.

It seemed silly. It's just a mirror..._But she remembered what it was like when she had first seen it, when she had finally bought it from that old dog in the store, when she had hung it up and first saw herself - truly _saw herself - in it. She remembered the joy, the satisfaction. She remembered how at ease she was every time she glanced at it, how it had seemed to draw all the sadness from her the night before. Maybe it was all in her head, maybe she had just grown attached to the thing, but if it worked then she wouldn't question it. Leaning forward, she crawled to the edge of the bed and padded slowly across the floor, eyes locked onto the image of herself as it mimicked her movements. As she stood before it, gazing at the vision of herself, she silently asked for what it had given her before. Please... Please, just make the pain go away...

Those eyes simply met her own, unwavering. It was too much, another hope unfulfilled, dashed against the rocks of cruel reality, and she covered her face with her hands as if to block out the world, crying against her palms.

Why do I feel such pain?

Because of everything! ... Because of everyone...

She didn't want to think about it, didn't want the memories, wanted to push them back into their graves where they belonged.

... Why_do you feel such pain?_

Because... Because I'm alone! Because of him_, and because of mom, and because everyone just ends up hurting me!_

"... Not everyone will hurt you, Victoria."

Yes, they will! They'll just- The recognition that the voice that had just spoken, aloud, was not her own caused all thoughts to cease within her mind. She nearly dared not look up from behind her hands, unknowing what she might see, but knowing that she had_to see. Still, those eyes, nearly glowing, fuchsia in color, staring back at her, but it was no longer her in that mirror. A man, one that_looked like her but was not her, stood opposite on the other side of the glass, a gentle smile of reassurance upon his lips. Like a deer in the headlights she stood frozen, wondering if she had finally gone crazy, wondering if some evil had finally come to torment her in a way life couldn't, wondering if she had already fallen asleep and was already dreaming.

"I said, 'not everyone will hurt you.'" She saw his lips move, saw that erroneous reflection tilt its head, moving independently of her, heard a voice that was clearly not her own; similar, but with more natural depth than she could ever muster.

She didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say. It's a dream, just like before. It's a dream. "... How do you know my name?" Her voice was but a whisper, but she nearly jumped at the sound of it, surprised at the words leaving her own mouth.

The male bat chuckled gently, a sound that rolled over her like warm honey. "I was there when you bought me, and I've been here since. Even if I didn't hear it, I would know it, because I know_you_." He stepped forward, closer to the glass that seemed now to be like the surface of a bubble, so flimsy a barrier separating her world between the one in the mirror. The world where a male, purple-furred bat with her eyes lived. "I saw something beautiful in you that day you walked into the store, something beautiful but damaged, and I knew I couldn't let you go on like that. I saw you happy when I was here, and I did my best to keep you that way. I saw you crying yesterday, so I held you while you slept peacefully."

She remembered the feeling from that morning, the warmth, the touch of glass on her skin. ... Just a dream...

"More than a dream, my dear Victoria."

"... Who are you? What are you?" Again, the words seem to come unbidden, but she was glad for them as her mind tried fruitlessly to comprehend what was happening. Everything she knew told her that this should not, _could_not, be real. Yet, here she was, clear and awake. The cold crept into her as she stood, naked against the chill of night. She could feel the grain of the carpet against the bottoms of her feet. Somewhere distant a siren rang out through the streets. No, this was no dream, and she could deny it no longer.

His smile seemed to widen, warm and endearing. "Call me Vincent, and what I am..." He stepped forward again, now nearly up against the surface of the mirror, is features softening in earnestness. "Is someone who wants to help you, if you'll let me."

... No. No, no, no._I can't trust you. For all I know, you're a figment of my imagination, a symptom of madness._Even if he weren't, how could she? She had no trust left in her, not anymore, not after-

"I know your fears, my dear." That voice, strong yet soft at the same time, interrupted her thoughts and called out to her through darkness of the night. It seemed to plead with her, as if trying to call her away from the edge of a building. "I know your pains, your sorrows, your history. I also know your dreams, your hopes. You don't want to be alone. You want someone to come, someone you can give of yourself to trust, someone that won't hurt you. It's a risk... but it's one you want to take."

"No, it can't be real." Yet even as her words denied, she crept a little closer to that threshold between them. "There's no one like that. Even if I could trust you, you'd just disappear or... or worse." Those tears returned, and she was afraid. It was a fear she hadn't felt in years, a fear she didn't dare let herself feel, a fear that returned now, not by choice, but in the face of that hope she thought had died long ago.

The mirror's image lifted a hand, pressing it against the glass that separated them, palm flat against it as those eyes of his asked her to give him a chance, to give _herself_the chance.

She stepped nearer, just out of arm's reach, her own hand shaking as it reluctantly rose half-way, stopping short of it. Victoria looked at him through eyes stinging with her tears, the occasional sob causing her body to shudder. "Please..." She closed the final distance, pushing her own hand against the glass, warm to the touch. "Please... don't hurt me."

The membrane between them seemed to grown more and more thin between their hands, giving way to the pressure of Vincent's fingers as he pushed against it, entwining his fingers with Victoria's, holding that hand in his own. At first it felt as if being held by warm glass, flowing over her hand, but then she felt his skin, his fur, becoming more and more real, as the man stepped through the threshold and stood before her, gazing at her with a soft affection in his gaze.

He was real. She could feel the heat coming off his unclothed form, feel his presence as they stood mere inches apart. She could smell his scent, so like her own but with an undertone of heady musk, a sensation that danced in her nostrils and caused her heart to skip a beat. Vincent moved closer and slid his other arm around her torso, pulling her closer. She nearly wanted to resist, anxiety gripping her like a weight upon her chest, but she yielded easily to his touch. Her form touched his in the darkness, their bodies pressed close, her supple breasts pressed against his chest as he leaned down and met her lips with his own. She could taste him, his lips on hers, his tongue as their mouths opened and deepened that wondrous embrace. He held her close and firm, a strength that let her melt into him, to feel safe in his secure arms. It was intoxicating; she felt lightheaded as a flutter settled into her heart, Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gripped him almost desperately, claws digging into his shoulders as if, at any moment, he might fade as quickly as he appeared, little more than the imaginings of a lonely soul. But, no, he was real, or real enough for her. If he was a madness, it was a madness she wanted, a madness she needed.

Vincent leaned forward, pressing her back, and she moved to his touch. Strong arms holding her ever near and dear, he lay her gently down onto her bed, keeping his own body pressed against her all the while, locked in their passionate kiss. His hands loosened only to glide over her back, running over her soft fur, clawed fingertips seeking every rise and fall there, exploring every bit they could touch. Moaning softly into the kiss at the feel of his adoring hands, she returned the favor, dragging her own down over his chest, feeling the toned muscles beneath his skin. A heat welled within her, a fire inside her chest that spread slowly through her limbs, all the way to her fingertips. Every bit of him that graced her skin was electric, sending tingles though her body. She lost herself in the myriad of sensations, of touch, smell, and taste, and gave in to it, carried off into that maelstrom of delight.

His hands never stopped, never paused. Once they experienced all they could of her back they slid down, running over the soft curve of her rump, the down over her thighs, fingertips trailing along the back of them in a way that caused her to raise them to give him better access, hugging Vincent with her knees as those hands moved ever down, past those knees, along the outside of her graceful calves, then back up over the top of her legs, massaging them gently. She moaned again, deeper in her throat, with an urgency, a need. The fire in her veins grew hotter, making her body vibrate with his every caress. She wanted more, but gave herself to him, trusting he would give her what she desired.

The man from the mirror broke their kiss, causing Victoria despair for but a moment before his lips moved onward, pressing to her cheek gently, warm and moist from their affections. Then again, at the corner of her jaw where it met her neck, the down at the crook of it, burying his face there as he trailed kisses across that sensitive skin. The female bat could only writhe and moan under the maddeningly enticing ministrations, that sound escaping her every other second as he continued down, along her shoulder, a hand sliding up over the curve of her stomach, fingers and lips working simultaneously. Those lips, moving ever down, seemed to leave blossoms of flame where they passed, setting her flesh ablaze as they moved up the rise of her breast, his hand softly cupping the other. His mouth worked a painfully slow spiral around that breast, with lingering kisses and brief licks, while his hand kneaded and massaged the other. His lips grew ever closer to her nipple before finally slipping it into his mouth, suckling on it gently, while his other hand, previously forgotten, found its way between her legs, stroking her warm sex lightly, causing her to arch into him as she loosed a cry of ecstasy.

"Please," she said in a bated, heated breath, a near whimper as Vincent's hands and mouth continued their exquisite torture. "Please... I need you..."

He glanced back up at her with those eyes, now glowing like foxfire, smiling softly, and slid his body up over hers, face hovering over hers as he gazed at her lovingly. His hands ceased their teasing, one curling around her, holding her close, while the other reached up and stroked her cheek affectionately. "As you wish, my love."His voice was but a whisper but it echoed in her ears, sending more of those tingles through her as expertly as his hand had done, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer. She felt that telling pressure in her nethers as his member met her entrance, both ready and eager for the touch. Her arms tightened around him, claws finding purchase against his muscled back, but if he cared about the pain it didn't show. That pressure increased, slowly and steadily, more and more, painfully, until she thought she might burst and as he finally entered her she felt as if she had. A scream of mingled pain and pleasure escaped her as she held him, threatening to overwhelm her already, but Vincent waited, still, until the feeling ebbed, and she pulled him close again with a whisper. "... Keep going."

All too happy to comply, he began to roll his hips into hers, little by little at first, small presses against her, drawing constant moans from her. It had been a long time since she was held in the embrace of a lover, too long. His slow pace was both a blessing and a curse as she yearned for more but was unaccustomed to it. Yet, it was a perfection that let her open to his kind advances, to warm up to him as his motions grew more insistent. Now and then he would widen his motions, quicken his pace, press his hips against her a bit harder. She bit her lip to keep from screaming as she began to buck herself up to meet him.

Finally, as if neither could hold back any longer, they threw themselves at each other with abandon. His lips found Victoria's, tilting his head to kiss her as deeply as possible, while she squeaked and moaned into his mouth. She pulled herself up to meet him with her arms and legs, as he crashed down upon her like the waves of the sea, washing her in pleasure every time. It was painful, with such force that pushed her into the bed time and again, but she didn't care. It was a pleasure she hadn't felt in years- No. A pleasure she had _never_felt before. More than an ecstasy of the body, it was one of her heart, as in that moment she loved and felt loved more than she ever had before. It was almost more than she could bear, feeling as if she were in a storm that could tear her apart at any moment, but she exulted in every second of it. Victoria wrapped her arms even tighter around him, her legs squeezing him tighter, nearly suspending herself from his body as she threw herself into his sweet embrace. He responded in kind, hugging her as tight as he possibly could and pulling her up into an upright position, seating her upon his lap as she straddled his hips. This was what she needed, this and nothing else: love, the love she felt in his every motion, in his very touch, in the kiss they shared.

She rocked into him, taking a more active role as her body shook with pleasure. She bounced upon his lap while he thrust his hips up against her, both moving with increasing speed and fervor, sensing the approaching climax. Her breath had quickened so that she felt she could hardly breathe, the warmth within her now a blazing wildfire that claimed every inch, suffocating all other thought but for this_one..._ exquisite.... moment. The kiss broke again as she raised her face to the heavens, crying out as his lips showered her neck and breast with kisses and licks. The pressure inside her grew, and grew, radiating sheer euphoria throughout her, until finally...

Her voice filled the air in an ultimate note of rapture as she felt his warmth spread throughout her loins, showering her own down upon his own. She was lost in the tempest of bliss, cast to the warm winds like a feather in a storm, body and mind reeling in the seemingly endless joy that emptied into her until she was overflowing with it. Yet that man from the mirror clutched her tight, holding her safely in his arms so that she was never truly lost, and when she found her way back to the world he was there, holding her upon him, their bodies thrumming in the aftermath of their ecstasy. Victoria lifted her hands to his face, cupping it while gazing at him with her pink-violet eyes. He was beautiful to her, from his luminescent eyes, to his short, blue hair, down over his purple-furred form. A soft, yellow light cast over him, and she looked away for but a moment to see that morning had come and the sun was on the rise. The night was over and..."... You're still here."

Vincent smiled, that warm, loving smile that now made her smile in return. "I'm still here."

"Promise me you'll never hurt me?" Her voice was soft, as if even uttering the words might ruin the new-found hope she now had. "Promise me you'll never leave?"

His own hand rose, brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek, wiping away an errant tear that slid down it. "I promise, my Victoria. I will never hurt you, I will never leave you. So long as you'll have me, I'll be right here with you, for as long as we both live."

She shuddered against him as more tears streamed freely down her face, tears she was glad to shed, tears of joy as she hugged Vincent close. "I love you."

"I love you too, Victoria, for now and evermore."

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Story by, and written for: Ava-Slithers

Written by: Izotz Ekaitz