The Allure of the Forbidden

Valora was tired and more than ready for bed this evening. It had been a long day, and she was looking forward to the comfort of her soft mattress with its fresh, sun-drenched linens and plumped up puffy pillows. As she perched herself on the edge of her bed, she picked up the old, discolored photograph that she’d found in the antique shop earlier that day. She didn’t know why, but it had held a fascination for her, and she’d impulsively purchased it.

She slowly turned the photograph over and read the inscription on the back of it again: “Aramis, 1914, Italy”. She whispered the name aloud as she read it: Aramis. The man in the picture was extremely attractive, dressed in expensive and fashionable clothing and wore a handsome smile as he posed in front of a Trattoria – obviously in Italy - as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She didn’t know exactly what it was about him or the picture that attracted her so, but she suspected it was Aramis' eyes. Even in the faded, yellowed photograph one could easily tell he had beautiful, light eyes that were the focus of his handsome face and appeal. Valora wondered at the volumes of stories those pleasing eyes might have told as she continued to hold the old photograph.

Sighing wistfully, she placed the photograph back on the bedside table, turned out the lamp, and sank into the mattress, pulling the covers up to her chin while she watched the repeated spin of the fan as it twirled on the ceiling above her bed. She had just closed her eyes and was about to drift off to sleep when she heard it: the faintest of knocking upon the window pane.

The moon was full this evening, and its light spread evenly across the length of her room, so she did not turn on the bedside lamp, although she did sit straight up in the bed and peer toward the window. Her bedroom was on the second floor of the old, renovated Victorian house, so it could be none other than a creature or animal of some sort making the noise, she assured herself.

She was about to lie back down when she heard it again. Tap…tap…tap... But from where she was in the bed, Valora could see nothing.

Discarding the covers, her bare feet glided silently and with a bit of trepidation across the hardwood flooring toward the window, an indescribable feeling in the pit of her stomach that seemed to propel her forward with each step she took. Tap…tap…tap. There it was yet again. It grew louder with each step she took.

At first she saw nothing, but then, of a sudden, he appeared, almost as if he had always been there, patiently waiting for her. She should have been shocked and alarmed to find a man outside of her second floor window, but instead and as if in a trance, all she could seem to think was that he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. In the moonlight, his nearly black hair gleamed, his crystal blue eyes shone with an iridescent light, and the barest hint of a determined smile graced his lips. He seemed to beckon her, and all she could do was stare back at him in wonder. Unable to move, she felt mesmerized, rooted to the spot by the sight of his image outside of her window where there should be nothing and no one, and yet, there he was.

Tap…tap…tap. His long, lean fingers lightly touched the window pane again as he gave a slight nod of his head, reminding her of his need for entry. Obediently, she deliberately slid the window upward until it was fully open, feeling the fresh coolness of the evening’s breeze.

“Good evening, Valora. May I come in?” His voice was rich, melodic, and thoroughly hypnotic. How in the world did he know her name?

Still in a trance, Valora nodded, completely oblivious that she stood only in a sheer night dress that left little to the imagination as the moonlight drifted through the thinness of the material.

“My sweet,” he implored. “May I enter?”

Valora stepped backwards, nearly tripping. As she did so, the spell was suddenly broken, and she was keenly aware of the absurdity of her unexpected visitor – and the surreal reality of him. “Aramis!” she whispered as dawning awareness of who he was filled her.

“Yes, you know me, Valora,” he said patiently and quietly. “You have always known me,” a smile forming across his handsome lips with his words. “Your soul craves me, does it not? May I enter?"

“Aramis?” she repeated but as a question this time, nearly afraid of his answer.

“Don’t ask questions, Valora. Listen and respond to what your heart is telling you in this very moment.” His look was beseeching, reaching deep into her being as he spoke, his eyes as beautifully blue in their depths as she had envisioned them to be while staring at the old photograph of him.

Feeling the pull of something unknown that had begun when she’d first encountered the picture of him, she responded to his luring, melodic tone. “Please, Aramis, come in,” she whispered softly. Still, she was surprised with the words that issued forth from her mouth and took yet another step backwards, her back now flush against the wall as if seeking support and solace of some kind.

With a lightness of foot and remarkable speed, he was inside, standing before her in a split second of time. Fully illuminated in the moonlight, she saw that he was even more handsome than he had appeared outside of the window. He was tall and slender, clothed completely in black, his opaque, white skin nearly transparent, and the ice blue of his eyes in stark contrast to the black of his hair. His eyes deepened in intensity as he watched her.

“Come closer,” he commanded quietly.

Unable to defy him but unsure as to why not, Valora hesitantly approached, stopping mere inches from him. True to character, she refused to look downward and instead warily watched him, raising her chin in defiance as the green of her eyes deepened.

“You aren’t afraid of me.” It was a statement, not a question. A small smile of irony spread across his lips.

“No,” Valora answered and crossed her arms defiantly in front of her. She did not know why, but whoever he was, and even if he was here to kill her, she was not afraid of him. Instead, she seemed to be mesmerized by his invading presence.

His smile grew, and Valora noticed a deep dimple in his left cheek. “My sweet, you should be very afraid of me,” he said. But he grew more serious as he added, “However, I am immensely pleased that you are not.”

“Why are you here? You say I know you, but I don’t, at least not beyond the photograph….”

He watched her for a long moment before he spoke again, as if contemplating what he would say next. His blue eyes found her green ones again, “Yes, you know me. I am Aramis, and I fear our destinies are intertwined in ways far beyond your comprehension or imagination.”

His words resonated within her despite the lack of understanding. She’d never heard of him or seen him until earlier today, so how on earth could their destinies be intertwined? But then again, she had found the photograph in that drawer amidst so many other pictures at the antique shop. Perhaps….

“I’m not sure I understand,” she said, her voice only above a whisper.

He inched closer and reached out a finger to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. His touch was an oxymoron: cool and yet also electrifying, burning in its intensity. His blue gaze deepened as he moved his finger from her ear to trail across her cheek until it came to rest beneath her chin.

“Do you not feel it?” His voice was laced with promise, the allure of moonlight, and something mysterious.

Yes, she did feel it, but as to what exactly it was that she felt, she did not know. Her emerald green eyes turned liquid at his touch, and she felt the nearness of him with everything inside of her. She desperately longed to lean closer, to fall against him with wild abandon. What had this man done to her in the skip of a heartbeat? She had never felt as she felt at this moment. It was all very surreal. She must be dreaming.

“Yes, I feel it.” Her voice, in her surprise and confusion, was nearly inaudible, but he heard her clearly, as if she had screamed the words at the top of her lungs.

Lifting his hand and reaching behind her neck, he pulled her nearer. He was so close she could feel the coolness of his breath against her cheek. His other hand slowly grasped behind her waist, pulling her tautly against the hardness of his chest with a strong, yet gentle force. His blue eyes searched her green ones, never breaking their gazes as he did so.

“You smell of sweet jasmine,” he said quietly. His blue gaze fell, focusing intently on her neck. His lips drew a hard line, and he inhaled deeply as he studied the strength in the beat of the pulse therein.

She could not think beyond the blue of his eyes and the nearness of him. Whatever it was he wanted of her, she would willing give it – and more - she thought. His gaze, his words, his touch, his being: they were all more intoxicating than the strongest spirits she’d ever imbibed.

“Please,” was all she could seem to say, a plea for something unknown in the heat of the moment as his gaze remained fixed upon the beating pulse in her neck.

Aramis’ blue gaze slowly lifted to search her green one before he leaned closer, his lips lightly trailing across hers, momentarily tasting of their richness. Raising his head slightly, she saw that the blue of his eyes had darkened so much so that they were nearly black. She leaned into him, the need for more encompassing her in a way she had never known until this very moment.

Aramis kissed her again, more deeply, and Valora’s world spun out of control. Instinctively, she turned her neck to his mouth and he willingly partook of what she offered, his own need for it encompassing him.

The first sweet taste of her rich, red blood was sublime, and Aramis nearly lost control. After several moments that felt more like centuries, he raised his head and looked at Valora, the taste of her blood still evident on his lips as he spoke. “Do you understand now, my sweet?” he asked.

Valora’s eyes devoured the man who stood before her. Unsure as to how, she now completely understood the complexity of the situation, and her eyes begged him to partake of more. Indeed, she wanted him to take all from her.

Aramis answered her plea, drinking deeply of her blood again before he suddenly and unexpectedly straightened, taking a step backwards while the flat of his right palm pressed against her chest to prevent her from following his steps.

“I cannot,” he said with a growl and a look of surprise in his dark eyes.

Disappointed and confused, tears filled Valora’s green eyes. “I need you, Aramis. Please,” she begged him.

He was silent for long moments, his eyes black, before he finally spoke again. He was as unprepared for what had just transpired as - and totally unprepared for the onslaught of what he’d just felt as he’d drunk of her blood.

“They named you Valora for a reason,” he said, the faint glimmer of a smile in his eyes as they began to return to their ice blue color. He could not, and he would not, drink all of her as he had originally planned despite the fact that he craved her to a point of mindlessness. Her innocence and allure were too rare and too divine - she was too unique. And she was far too brave for her own good. Yes, she was well worth the keeping.

Valora looked at him questioningly, more confused than ever before.

“You are indeed as brave and courageous as your name suggests, my sweet Valora.”

Aramis reached across and drew her nearer now that his restraint was firmly in place again. Valora fell willingly into his embrace as she craved the mere touch of the man before her., her eyes ever trusting. He stroked the waves of auburn hair, an unknown feeling taking root within him for the woman who stood before him. She was quite rare in unexpected ways, and he knew he had much to learn about her. No human had ever affected him so strongly. Indeed, there was more to this night’s chance meeting than he’d ever suspected.

“Never fear, my sweet, there will be many times we will meet again. I assure you that now I have tasted of you, I see you often, both in your dreams and in the moonlight. I shall never be far. You need only think of me, need me as you did earlier tonight, and I will come to you.”

Raising his wrist and biting into it, he then placed it against her lips, entreating her to drink from it. If he wished to continue to see her, it was important that there be no tell-tale signs of what had just transpired. His blood would ensure that the bite marks on her neck healed and none would be the wiser.

Valora sighed and deeply drank willingly until Aramis removed his wrist. He pulled her close to lay her cheek against his chest, and she closed her eyes, knowing a security and depth of feeling previously unbeknownst to her. Embracing the coolness of what she thought was his chest, Valora sought to wrap her arms around Aramis, but of a sudden, her eyes flew open for it was the coolness of her pillow she held instead of his body, and she lay within the crisp coolness of her bed.

She sat up and quickly jumped out of bed, her bare feet thudding as they hit the wooden flooring. Valora looked all about in search of the man who had just invaded her room, her mind, her heart, and everything within her being, but there was inexplicably no sign of him. Glancing at the window, she saw that it was not as she had left it when first she’d gone to bed; it was now raised and the curtains fluttered in the light breeze. Her feet made short work of the distance where she leaned upon the window sill in search of the man named Aramis. But there was no sign of him in the stillness of the moonlight night. Had it all been only a dream?

Slowly and methodically and as if in a trance again, Valora shut the window and leaned against it. She raised her hand to lightly touch her neck but feeling nothing, she quickly headed to the mirror, turning her head to better gage the length of her neck in the flooding light from the moon. Disappointment filled her: there were no bite marks. No sign of Aramis remained where she was sure his mouth had once been, filling her with a need unlike any other she’d ever experienced.

Sighing, she began to turn back to the bed, convinced she’d had some strange, surrealistic dream, but then she inadvertently caught her reflection in the moonlight falling across the reflective mirror. On her lips still lingered the slightest hint of red blood. Slowly, she reached a slender finger upwards and felt wetness, then lifted it to see the richness of Aramis’ blood. Her heart leapt with joy that he had not been a dream after all, but a reality beyond the imaginable. A secretive smile lingering on her blood-stained lips, Valora climbed back into bed, picked up the old photograph, and turned to lay on her back as she watched the spin of the fan above, immensely pleased with her newfound discovery.

Aramis. The name was as sweet as the nectar of the Gods, and she could think of no other. He had been very real and in this room with her until only moments ago. It was not a dream and she had not imagined him or what she’d felt. She smiled. Her heart, her soul knew this man and had beckoned him from the depths of the forbidden and unknown. This is why she had found the old photograph and was so drawn to it. And now, he would return to her when she needed him, forever to remain a part of her life.

This night had been unlike any other moonlit night, and Aramis, unlike any other she’d ever known. The unbidden and the forbidden mingled, joining to complete her dreams as she drifted to sleep. And as she slept, Valora held the sweet allure of moonlight tightly within her grasp, a secret smile of desire, longing, and fulfillment playing across her bloodstained lips as she knew, without a doubt, that only the most intense of desires are derived from the depths of the unknown and the forbidden.