Work Text:
Jealousy. Or, more primarily, envy.
Jealousy was an emotion Sandrone thought to be below her. As a creation that did not bleed, a creation with intelligence that exceeded human capability. Who did she have to be jealous of when she already had everything? It was the same with envy. She had nothing to envy, not when Sandrone had everything.
Well, the answer to what she didn't have soon came to her in the form of Columbina. Not Columbina herself, but rather, what she was, and how it meant Sandrone had practically no worth to her beyond an emotional bond. Columbina could live forever if she played her cards right, and she could find someone who was more help than a puppet.
Jealousy and envy were the reason she had devoted a year of research just to keep her mind calm that the irritating blood-drinking woman that bothered her all day long didn't leave. A year was nothing compared to how much research and material creating a system that could not only produce blood but cycle it too. But Sandrone's joints weren't going to stop bending any time soon, and watching Columbina walk around with a trail of blood down the corner of her mouth that wasn't Sandrone's own was just as torturous as listening to the woman speak all day.
Columbina was, hopefully, blissfully unaware of her project, unaware of the tabs Sandrone kept on each specific kind of blood she targeted. Most were middle-aged, never drank, and never had problems with deficiencies, with A+ blood. She avoided feasting off of women that weren't facing the death sentence completely, even if it was just bloodbags, claiming that she has no interest in provoking more fear in a group of people who already fear going outside alone.
Sandrone could understand why, so she didn't comment on it.
And now, she was leaning against her desk, staring at the door of her workshop. Columbina should have stopped by thirty minutes ago. That was always the schedule. But no, the woman had arrived thirty minutes late, stumbling as she stepped through the door. It wasn't unusual. The step outside her workshop always caught Columbina's foot, but this time was different, Sandrone couldn't place what, but something was wrong.
“Sandrone.” She sounded relieved in a way. The name was breathy, exhausted.
Immediately, Sandrone straightened her back, jaw clenched as she studied Columbina's face. “Where were you?” It wasn't supposed to sound accusatory, but it did. Accusatory enough to stop Columbina in her tracks while walking over to pull Sandrone into an embrace.
“I'm sorry, my love. Dottore wanted to do extra testing.” Two cold hands found her jaw, thumbs brushing against her cheekbones.
“Have you eaten today?” Accepting the chaste kiss Columbina tilted her head up for, Sandrone's arms finally wrapped around Columbina's waist, pulling her impossibly closer.
“No. I was in testing most of the day, but it's okay, I can go multiple days without eating.” That irritating sensation of envy prickled at Sandrone's fingers. She should be able to help Columbina, should have the ability to push Columbina's head further against her neck while those fangs sank into the soft skin covering where Sandrone's pulse point should be.
It wasn't fair, to feel Columbina practically chew on her neck occasionally but never bite down. Never puncture her synthetic skin. She marked, Columbina loves littering her synthetic skin with marks, but never entirely bit down.
“Just because you can, it doesn't mean you should go days without eating, Dove. I'm not taking care of you again if breathing becomes excruciating just because you refused to eat.” Sandrone rested her forehead in the crook of Columbina's neck.
“Because she was scared, Sandrone. I wasn't going to hurt her just because I overestimated how long overseas I can go without eating…” She wanted to scoff at that. Screams had echoed off the walls multiple times a month when Columbina did get hungry. Pure, primal screams of fear from criminals of both genders that had records vile enough to make even Scaramouche recoil.
But then again, every harbinger and agent turned a blind eye to Columbina's antics, even if they were technically not allowed. When charged with the death sentence, they were supposed to have a quick, almost painless death. But Columbina dragged it out. She tolerated watching them struggle, ignoring them pleading for any semblance of mercy. She never picked randomly, either. There had to be requests from victims of the victims family to do so.
It was cruel, sure. But no one stopped her, because mostly all of them deserved it, deserved worse.
It was much different from Columbina's usual behaviour towards Sandrone, the soft, tender touches and kisses littered across her skin during the night, the nothing but loving words she spoke. Sandrone couldn't remember the last time Columbina had looked, said, or done something remotely hostile, or if she had in the first place.
“You're going to injure yourself, Columbina.”
“As long as it's you taking care of me, that's fine.” Huffing a laugh, Sandrone kissed her once more. Longer this time, a silent way to say all the words in her mind. Without waiting a beat, Columbina melted into it, arms wrapping around the back of Sandrone's neck. She hummed into it, fingers curling into Columbina's forearm, something that resulted in Columbina's usually retracted fangs to extend, biting down on Sandrone's bottom lip, a sharp gasp from both parties following.
“What was that, Columbina!” she groaned, eyes narrowing at the woman in front of her, specifically at her forearm. Sandrone always grabbed that area and there never was a problem. Now, the suspicion of something being wrong had clicked together, Columbina's arm was practically limb while opening the door while crossing the room.
“I'm sorry, I didn't—”
Sandrone waved a hand, scoffing. “Dress off.” If her suspicions were correct, Columbina had fed for the past few days, as said previously, just not enough, and that was causing an injury to remain unhealed.
“But… I just got here.” Columbina tilted her head to the side, frowning.
“I'm not trying to bed you today, I'm confirming a suspicion.” She watched Columbina shift uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. “If you're not going to do it, pull that sleeve down.”
“I don't think that's necessary, Sandrone…”
“Do it.” With one last tender kiss, Columbina pulled back entirely. She looked nervous, fiddling with her sleeve before feeling the garment off, hand hovering over the area on her arm that was a fault for the dull stinging in Sandrone's bottom lip.
For a moment, she didn't speak, just observed how Columbina winced each time her hand twitched against the arm she held.
“Sandrone, it's cold…” Slowly, she crossed the room, fingers curling around Columbina's wrist. There was fight when she tried to move the arm, a fight she most definitely wouldn't win, not physically at least. She may have Columbina's full devotion most of the time, but it was pointless to try to win a physical struggle with a vampire.
“Columbina.” That unmoving posture faltered for a moment, the woman's eyes dilating before flickering away. Sandrone could practically hear the battle in her mind, the fight between self-preservation and that unwavering loyalty.
“Sandrone…” with a jolt, Columbina pulled her into yet another kiss, a deeper one, something meant to distract. It looks every ounce of willpower to pull away from the tongue trying to pry herself teeth open, to not melt into the feeling of Columbina's body against her own.
“You,” She jabbed a finger at Columbina's sternum, “Are not getting out of this.” With a defeated sigh, Columbina's shoulders slumped, allowing Sandrone to tug her arm away.
Under the hand was a very painful looking burn, one she had only seen briefly when Columbina walked in front of the blinds at their home. But this was too measured, a specific spot. And it hadn't healed, unlike last time, where Sandrone had blinked, and it healed over
“He was just testing something. It wasn't—” Abruptly, Sandrone raised a finger to her lips, internally seething. She had to chew on the inside of her cheek to avoid snapping at Columbina for trying to excuse Dottore's actions. “Sandrone—”
“Stop talking.” Carefully, she lifted Columbina's arm, occasionally glancing at her face to check for any discomfort. “You aren't healing.”
“I… it will heal.” and yet, it wasn't, not visibly at least.
“You were lying. You haven't eaten properly.” It wasn't accusatory anymore. It was a statement, and there was no question about it anymore. It made her nonexistent heart drop, watching a real injury not heal after a second or two on someone who usually healed very well.
“I was participating in an experiment. I was just helping.” Sandrone shook her head, hand falling away.
“I couldn't care less what experiment you were helping with. You need to eat, Columbina!” Pinching her nose bridge, Sandrone turned away. “Stay here. You are eating regardless of what you say about it.”
“I don't want to bite someone today.” The wings at the back of Columbina's head twitched as she spoke, drooping with the defeated tone of her voice.
“Okay.”
Soon enough, she returned with a mostly full glass of blood, pushing it into Columbina's hands.
“Where did you get this…?” Columbina looked hesitant, staring at the dark red substance with narrowed eyes.
“The cooler. I checked the label beforehand, and do you truly think I would make such a mistake?” She scoffed, grasping Columbina's hand to push the glass to her lips. “Drink.” With a quiet groan, she finally tilted her head back, brows furrowed. “You wouldn't have to be in this position if you just ate properly, Columbina.”
Luckily, she drank the whole glass with minimal struggle, a small trail of red dripping down her chin. “For a usually clean feeder, you were quite messy while drinking this time.” Sandrone's gloved thumb wiped away the red, eyes narrowed as she pulled Columbina into a short but loving kiss.
“Please do not refer to it as… feeding. That feels far too intimate for someone who isn't you, Sandrone.” Columbina mumbled, turning her head away with a frown to her face.
“Very well. I will refer to it as eating then.” She watched the burn heal, smiling softly to herself. Luckily, Columbina kept her eyes closed a majority of the time, so she wouldn't see the smile. “If you stop eating again, I'm hiding garlic around the house. Now go home and rest, I have work.” Sandrone nudged her towards the door, allowing Columbina to kiss the side of her neck once more before walking away, allowing Sandrone to return to her research.
***
It had been three years since her research had begun. There was now a rough idea on how to construct a functional circulatory system. Columbina had expressed curiosity about what she was so focused on, only to be met with a sharp ‘mind your own business’ each time. Sandrone knew it only fed the woman's curiosity, but Columbina always respected her privacy, even if it did cut into the time they had dedicated to each other at night.
She knew Columbina was upset by it. Behind the confident calmness, there was something sadder. But what could she say except work?
Either way, it was beginning to bother Sandrone, too, returning home during the day only to realise that Columbina waited for her before sleeping regardless of how high or bright the sun was. Sandrone wanted to apologise, to hold her until the loneliness went away. But she wouldn't, not out loud, at least. But she would adjust her schedule, get better at just leaving it until tomorrow.
Today was the first time in weeks that she had arrived home on time, Columbina was slumped over the dining room table, drawing lines with her finger. Almost immediately upon entering the dining room, Columbina's head snapped up.
“You're home already?” She was shocked. Columbina was shocked that she was home on time. It only made guilt crawl further up Sandrone's spine
“Work can wait until the morning…” She muttered, fiddling with her gloves before taking them off.
“Thank you.” With a small, barely contained grin, Columbina flipped the light off, grasping Sandrone's wrist to pull her upstairs.
With a quiet sigh, Columbina pushed their bedroom door open, pulling Sandrone into a kiss while pushing it shut. A hand undid her bun carefully, fingers intertwining with the silky beige coloured hair.
Columbina hummed when her back met the wall, fingers curling tighter into Sandrone's hair when she briefly pulled away. “Are you not tired?” It was a ridiculous question. Columbina didn't get tired. The only reason she slept during the day was to preserve energy.
“No. Now stop pulling away. Neither of us needs to breathe.” Sandrone scoffed, pushing the other woman's head back with her palm against Columbina's mouth.
“Don't tell me what to do.” After a moment, she let go of the woman's face, hand sliding to her shoulder.
Columbina's hand found her face, tracing the line of her jaw. “I missed you. I missed you a lot.”
“I know.”
Eventually, they both managed to get ready for bed, between quiet teasing, short kisses, and Sandrone's usual ranting. It was nice, to not feel the weight of being late, to feel Columbina's eyes scanning her back when Sandrone wasn't looking.
“You're the prettiest person I've ever seen.” Columbina sighed, leaning back on her hands. She was sitting at the head of their bed, eyes cracked open slightly. That soft lilac always melted Sandrone's heart. From the first time she saw them, when Columbina's pupils weren't an almost hypnotic white, to now, they always took Sandrone's breath away. They used to be more pink, a colour that had faded with time.
“I'm not a person, Columbina. I am a machine.” She sighed, walking over to the bed. On the bedside table was her key, placed exactly where she left it every night.
“And I'm a dead person, we both have problems, huh?”
“Don't say it like that.”
For fourteen minutes, they debated whether or not it was weird the way Columbina described herself until eventually she agreed with Sandrone's point. It made her chest flutter with pride, especially when Columbina admitted she was right while lightly biting and kissing along her jaw, eventually moving down her neck. Instinctively, Sandrone tilted her head back, something Columbina very quickly took notice of.
“I can't bite you, Sandrone.” A rare desperation clawed at Sandrone's artificial ribs, the kind that made her feel the need to do something, anything, even if she couldn't place what.
“How come you can bite everything else?” She snapped, brows furrowed. It wasn't meant to be said how it was. It wasn't entirely Columbina's fault that she was far too gentle for her nature, but that didn't stop the frustration.
“Because it might hurt you…” immediately, that frustration mostly melted away upon hearing and seeing how Columbina was speaking and acting. Movements slow as she removes her legs from around Sandrone's hips, laying on her own side with a frown. And then there was the strain of her voice, the genuine apology within it. Her wings were drooping lower than usual, a likely subconscious response.
“You know it won't hurt if you don't want it to, Columbina.” Sandrone stared at the ceiling, dragging her eyes away from Columbina's face before guilt overwhelmed her emotion module.
“I don't want to accidentally hurt you. I've never bitten without intentions to harm.” Her voice was shaking, a subtle thing, but noticeable.
With a quiet hum of acknowledgement, her arms looped around Columbina's lower body, pulling the woman against her front until Sandrone rested her forehead against Columbina's back. “Go to sleep, Columbina.” With a stiff nod, the other woman curled into the arm around her waist, wings twitching. “I won't force you to do anything.”
Columbina nodded, fingers intertwining with Sandrone's own. “Thank you…”
—
By the time her system had powered on, Columbina was noticeably not in bed anymore, and the light outside was now completely gone. Usually, they both woke up together, sun still setting. But no, the sun had completely set and Columbina wasn't with her.
It made Sandrone's throat tighten, as did her fingers around the sheets where Columbina should be.
Getting ready for the night felt bland without Columbina talking her ear off. Toothpaste tasted like nothing. Getting dressed and styling her hair felt slow. Truthfully, she expected Columbina to have already left, be in whatever experiment Dottore proposed, or with Arlecchino and Rosalyne. But no, upon walking downstairs, Columbina was exactly where she was previously. Slumped over the table, but she was watching a candle this time, orange and yellow reflecting in those white pupils.
“You woke up late…” Columbina lifted her head, eyes fluttering shut. “I'm sorry.”
Sandrone tilted her head, trying to understand the suddenly strained tone. “For?”
“I know it's been a long time since we got together.” She started, fingers twitching against the table.
“Two centuries. I am aware.”
“And I'm sorry, that I haven't bitten you yet…” Sandrone shook her head, frowning.
Cautiously, she crossed the room, hands finding Columbina's cheeks. “Stop apologising for being uncomfortable. It's annoying.” Uncharacteristically, she pressed a gentle kiss between Columbina's brows. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes.” Hands found her hips, hesitant, gentle.
“Are you lying about that?”
“No.” Sandrone hummed quietly, fingers cautiously finding the soft white feathers of Columbina's wings, something that resulted in a languid sigh. Her hair was slightly damp, a sign that she had already showered.
“You preened them already and showered already?” Columbina hummed a quiet ‘mhm’, melting against the hand, head tilting back against it. When Sandrone pulled her hand back, a disgruntled sound came from Columbina, capturing Sandrone's full attention.
“Why did you stop?” Something warm bloomed in her chest, palm sliding to the edge of Columbina's jaw.
“Because if I don't, we will be here all day.”
“But it feels good.” The candle flickered beside them, just as Sandrone's patience did.
“I know. That is why I stopped, Columbina. I'm not making that mistake again.” Turning on her heel, she walked away from Columbina, hand falling to her side. In a few strides, she stopped in front of a full body mirror, adjusting the black collar around her neck once flipping the living room light on. “Are you ready for work?” Sandrone called out, not turning away from the mirror.
“Yes.”
“Oh Archons—! Stop doing that!” Sandrone yelped, core almost jumping out of her body upon hearing Columbina's voice right beside her ear. It was one of that irritating woman's favourite things to do, sneaking up on Sandrone while she was adjusting her appearance in the mirror.
If she had a heart, it would be racing right now, not only because of the scare, but also because of the fact that Columbina's face was dangerously close to her own.
“You're very gentle this morning, Sandrone.” A cold hand found her ribs, grounding, firm, teasing even. “What do you have to do at work today?” Appreciation soon filtered through her temporarily lagging system, appreciation for Columbina's genuine interest in what Sandrone did for work, an appreciation for just Columbina in general.
“The same as the past three years.” A silent awareness passed over Columbina's face, the same one that always appeared when Sandrone refused to tell her what she was doing for work. She knew something was wrong, that was obvious, she could probably hear Sandrone's internal systems begin clicking quicker each time this topic was mentioned, could probably feel the nervousness wracking through her due to that idiotic blood bond she had agreed to.
As much as Sandrone wanted to comfort that worried, almost scared look off of Columbina's face, she couldn't. Telling Columbina about the fact that a mere joke from Rosalyne had caused a spiral of insecurity that resulted in a goal that was presumed to be impossible was humiliating, even as just a thought.
“I… Did I do something? Is there something you don't want me to know about?” Columbina fiddled with her collar, frowning once more. “I know I don't bite you when you ask, but I just didn't want to hurt you. If there's another person or… vampire, can you tell me? I don't—”
Sandrone choked on the air she didn't even need, a badly stifled cough escaping her upon hearing Columbina's words, abruptly cutting them off with that cough.
“Celestia, what is wrong with you? Of course there isn't, I wouldn't devote two centuries to this relationship if I was just going to run off with another being when you're uncomfortable with something!” Visible relief washed over Columbina's face, relief Sandrone could feel echo somewhere in her own chest, her shoulders relaxing. “Whatever fear stops you from biting is a problem that needs to be worked on, not something I would resort to cheating because of. Is that truly what you think of me? Even after this long?” With a firm shake of her head, Columbina pressed herself closer, enveloping Sandrone in a warm, secure hug
“No. I don't see you like that… I merely lost track of rational thought. You were spending hours during the day out, avoiding questions by just saying ‘work’,” Her head was buried in the crook of Sandrone's neck, a hand resting just above her key. “And then there were the… conflicting wants. I feared that you had found someone else to bite you because I wouldn't, and I couldn't rely on scents because a lot of Fatui employees are vampires of all kinds.”
“Unbelievable. Utterly and completely inconceivable.” Sandrone mumbled. Hearing how Columbina viewed her actions, realising how suspicious they did sound made her feel like an idiot for not merely explaining her work was confidential. “It truly is just work, Columbina. I just can't tell you about it.”
It was painfully apparent that a lengthy conversation was due between the both of them, but it could wait. They both desperately needed to get to work. It also gave Sandrone a chance to rehearse her words carefully beforehand to assure Columbina understood her properly.
“We need to get to work.” Sandrone eventually murmured, subconsciously sighing when the body against her own pulled back.
“Okay, my love.” With slow, measured steps, Columbina walked towards the door, glancing over her shoulder upon realising Sandrone wasn't following. “Are you not ready?” Sandrone watched those eyes flutter shut, the soft smile on Columbina's lips, how she waited at the door until Sandrone joined her.
“You expect me not to be prepared?” Sandrone rolled her eyes, pulling the door open while Columbina rested a hand on her lower back
“There is always a chance.” With a glare, she swatted Columbina's hand away, ignoring how her once soft smile became a grin.
“You are so irritating!”
“I try my best to be, my love.”
“Columbina!”
—
From leaving the house to arriving at work, Columbina sent teases her way. Harmless, quiet ones, but ones Sandrone would silently treasure in her memory, ones she would refuse to delete.
Rosalyne had met them at the door, muttering something about everyone already being a pain. She and Columbina had parted ways with Sandrone upon arriving at her workshop, a lingering kiss on her cheek from Columbina being the only thing Sandrone would have to keep her company apart from Pulonia.
On her desk were complete blueprints. The only thing remaining was finding appropriate material. There weren't many options to replicate arteries, even less to create ones that would heal after a puncture. While sealing any puncture during maintenance day was an option, it was a very risky one, a risk Sandrone wasn't willing to take this time.
On one end, she could find a mix of material that closed naturally. On another, she could drop this project entirely and stop losing sleep over it. But the latter most definitely wasn't going to be her choice. She was too stubborn for that, too desperate for Columbina to just fully claim her after so long of asking.
Perhaps if she could just sustain Columbina's hunger, she would be worth the permanent mark. It brought encouragement, more encouragement than she needed to double-check her blueprints.
First, she would have to make sure the system actually worked by creating something similar. That something came in the form of a prototype of Katheryne she had stored. It felt too much like she was trying to create something that looked like it could be bothered parts of Columbina and herself. But now, it has a use.
Sandrone took a moment to stare at the prototype. How the eyes didn't quite look like Columbina's, no one could replicate the stars in her eyes, nor that specific mix of colours that looked lilac, but we're really a mix of colours. She remembered getting irritated when no matter how hard she tried, the colour was never perfect. Back then, she had believed Columbina to be blind, from the cloudy white pupils, to the small twinkling stars, both of which she had linked to Columbina's lack of spacial awareness. But those beliefs dissolved upon hearing Columbina say she was gorgeous, something Sandrone had asked her to repeat twice before finally realising that Columbina wasn't blind whatsoever.
The prototype stared back at her for a moment, a loud silence, before Sandrone consulted her notes once more. Pantalone had, thankfully, already approved her funding request, meaning any material she could need was one command away from resting in her palm.
“Pulonia! Request an agent to be sent to my workshop. A competent one this time.” The mech’s system clicked, a short, firm nod being its only response. While waiting, she studied the prototype again, eyes narrowed. Its eyes were too dark to be like Columbina's, stars not animated enough to replicate the real twinkling stars Columbina's eyes withheld.
An agent soon arrived, his smile nervous, hands shaking.
“You. Place an order for everything on this list.” Sandrone's voice was sharp as she spoke, placing a list on the floor for the man to grab.
“Yes Marionette, I—”
“I didn't tell you to speak. Now go.” She snapped, glaring at the brunette before he practically ran out of the room. Sandrone watched him stumble over his own feet. It was amusing to watch, amusing enough to make her chuckle. But not enough to distract her from the desire to return home.
It was likely that material wouldn't arrive for multiple days, and that just left her more time to review blueprints, to find any loopholes within the intricately designed model. Perhaps that would draw her mind away from that irritatingly perfect woman's face.
As expected, there were things that needed tinkering, but nothing more difficult than a mere flick of her wrist to fix. It didn't distract her from Columbina, nor did performing early maintenance on Pulonia. It was so bad that she had dropped her wrench, something that rarely ever happened, she was too stable for that. Internally, she cursed Columbina, outwardly she cursed Columbina, too.
Boredom eventually seeped into the edges of her mind after mindlessly flipping through pages she had read dozens of times, a quiet desire to return home accompanying it. But she didn't have to be home for another four hours, Columbina likely wouldn't even be there. Although it was about time, she was early rather than late.
“Pulonia, lock up my workshop.” She huffed, heels clicking while crossing the room. Behind her, Pulonia carried out her command, the sound of locking mechanisms and security systems powering up echoed through the hall Sandrone now walked through. It was deserted, presumably because most employees were either at home or working in their separate factions. It was preferred that no one be present, though. Sandrone didn't have the patience to explain why she was returning home so early.
—
Upon returning, Columbina looked about ‘asleep’ on the couch, brows furrowed, fingers twitching. She looked paler than usual, in a way, if that was even possible. It was a shock, to see her home so early.
With cautious movements, she nudged Columbina's shoulder, watching how the woman jolted awake.
“What did he do to you this time?”
“The Tsaritsa requested my assistance with something…” Suddenly, the resting made sense. Each time The Tsaritsa required ‘assistance’ it was just a more gentle way to say gathering blood of a vampire that is both old enough to withstand multiple bags of blood being taken and also old enough to bring efficient and quick healing to any soldier or agent it was given to.
“You idiot… Stay here, I'll get you something to eat.” It was a pain, watching Columbina not have the ability to say no to operations that wouldn't quite kill her, but she wouldn't be far off dead again if this ‘assistance’ continued.
When she came back, Columbina was mostly sat up, slumped forward.
“How long have you been home without me?” Sandrone mumbled, pressing the glass into her shaking palm before slowly easing the glass to her lips. It was something she always did after things like these, a precaution to make sure Columbina ate it all.
Luckily, there was no resistance to eating today. The thick red liquid went down relatively easily. “I'm sorry, I tried to wait for you.” Columbina muttered, resting against Sandrone's Collarbone with a quiet groan.
“How long were you waiting?” The question was met with a shrug. “Okay. Stand up for me.” Sandrone eased Columbina to her feet, sitting on the couch before pulling Columbina down to sit between her legs. “You haven't preened yet tonight, I suppose?”
Columbina shook her head, allowing one of Sandrone's hands to cup her chin, tilting the woman's head back as her remaining hand found Columbina's bottom right wing. Immediately upon contact, fingers curled tightly into Sandrone's thigh, the body in front of her own going rigid momentarily.
“Calm down. You're okay.” She mumbled, gently kissing the woman's shoulder blade. Sandrone waited for Columbina to nod against the hand on her chin to continue. Momentarily, she pulled her hand away from the soft wing to gently push Columbina forward, knees locking around her hips when she was the perfect distance away.
Finally, her fingers delicately scanned each wing for pin feathers, precisely and slowly easing the keratin sheath off each new feather, nails carefully straightening each feather. With each sharp breath, Sandrone's movements ceased, eyes widening a fraction before her springs relaxed. She tried her very best not to touch any still developing feathers and avoided the overly sensitive areas as best she could.
Columbina eventually eased into it fully, hand running up and down Sandrone's mid thigh and knee. Unfortunately, due to the fact doves lacked a preening gland, left the only option of a specially made fine dust. It was Sandrone's least favourite part of this routine, how each night she had to temporarily sabotage her appearance with dust. But she did it regardless of the distaste for dust, Sandrone knew it was only temporary. She showered each time afterwards, so there was no reason to try to avoid the act.
Cautiously, she hooked an arm around Columbina's waist to keep her from shuffling forward, leaning over the woman's shoulder to grasp a small white tub. Once more, she had to shift Columbina forward, as the woman had shuffled back against Sandrone's front.
“Stop moving, Dove.” Sandrone sighed when the body between her knees wouldn't stop shifting, palm returning to the bottom of Columbina's chin, tilting her head back once more. The dust wasn't technically dust. It was a specially engineered fine powder, one that shimmered. She didn't know what it was made of, just that it kept Columbina's wings addictingly soft. Her fingers eased tenderly through each feather, recoating her fingers in the power with each feather.
Columbina sighed against her touch occasionally, thumb massaging the side of Sandrone's knee as she instinctively leaned back against the hand. She went feather by feather, that laser focus she had mastered over the centuries going towards keeping her hands still and gentle until she had reached the last feather. This time, very little powder had gotten onto her, an ideal outcome.
“You're done. I'll come to bed soon.” Sandrone patted the hand on her thigh, allowing Columbina to stand. She yawned, head turning Sandrone's way briefly to mutter a quiet ‘thank you’ and an ‘I love you’ before walking towards the stairs. That left Sandrone to consult her schedule for today. All that was left to do was shower and get ready for bed, two easy tasks.
—
Doing anything while Columbina was in a weakened state and less than three rooms away was difficult, but manageable. Picking up each keratin sheathe and throwing them away had been easy. It was the part where she was upstairs that was difficult. But she did it regardless, returning to their bedroom felt like a reward after, taking a moment to watch a partially asleep Columbina curl further into a pillow she was hugging, one of Sandrone's pillows. It made her scoff while getting dressed in her sleepwear
Trying to get the woman to let go of her pillow was difficult, so difficult that she just allowed the woman to keep it for the night. It wasn't like she didn't have more. Just like any other day, her body fit against Columbina's like a puzzle piece, legs folding under Columbina's as her arms hooked around the woman's waist. That she melted into instead of fighting against. It was likely that Columbina would be in a weakened state for multiple days while her body recovered from the blood withdrawal, Sandrone would likely stay at home to make sure she didn't hurt herself while regeneration was slow, as much as she would like to deny wanting to do that.
Their room was an excruciatingly long walk to get to, Columbina had made sure of that. Something about keeping sleeping quarters close to everyday living spaces. But also since Sandrone had refused to let her buy horrendous amounts of pillows to line their bed, stating that when they had a child she could begin building nests and telling Sandrone what to get and what not to. That, however, had sparked a whole new interest, one that Sandrone still occasionally heard about to this day.
Though, every new spring, Columbina would insist on sleeping anywhere but in their bedroom or near Sandrone at all. She didn't understand why, but there was a specific timeline when it happened, usually the end of spring or the beginning of summer. Columbina was more agitated then, picking at her nails, jumping at random sounds she heard daily, acting more hostile to anyone who walked within six feet of her. Obviously, Sandrone gave her the space she needed, but also made sure the woman knew she was available if needed. She was still allowed to preen the wings at the back of Columbina's head without any visible signs of agitation or hostility, still allowed to kiss her goodbye when leaving for work, but most things came to an abrupt halt.
Eventually, Columbina would slide back into bed after a few weeks, and Sandrone would wrap her arms around the woman's waist as usual. She would quietly apologise, and everything would go back to normal. That's how it always was. And hopefully, how it always would be.
Sandrone's systems gradually went into resting, thoughts becoming fuzzy. Her forehead pressed firmly against the top of Columbina's spine, sighing contently as the quiet clicking of her internal workings faded.
***
Allowing Columbina into her workshop was already a nerve-wracking thing, especially when she was one door away from finding a prototype with a working blood circulation. Sandrone had assured it was hidden well enough, but there was always a chance that Columbina would hear the blood flow, would ask about it. If she did ask, Sandrone didn't have an explanation, not a logical one, at least. Who just… makes a new circulatory system because they can?
Eventually, her system had stopped being so alert when all Columbina seemed interested in was a spring on the floor, slipping the spring into her pocket as safekeeping.
“Sandrone…?” Almost immediately, panic settled over the puppet again, head snapping around to face Columbina. That tone was never good.
“Yes? What is it?” For a moment, it felt like her core had been torn out upon seeing a familiar paper in Columbina's hands.
The woman looked up, frowning. “Why do you have blueprints to create a circulatory system?”
“They aren't mine!” Sandrone tried to reach for the paper, but unsurprisingly, Columbina didn't have to do much to force Sandrone to a halt. A hand was resting on her collarbone, firm, but cautious, too.
“Sandrone.”
“Give me the paper, Columbina.” For once, her tone wasn't faux hostility. It was real. Columbina noticed it the second Sandrone spoke, her expression softening an impossible amount.
“We spoke about this, my love.” Suddenly, the papers were back on her desk, neatly organised, and that hand on her collarbone was now pulling her into a hug. “I don't need you to have blood for me to love you unconditionally.” It was something she had confessed previously, tangled in the sheets with Columbina after a long day. She remembered the arms looped around her waist tightening when Sandrone asked if she was temporary until Columbina could find someone that wasn't built and could bleed. It was the first time Sandrone had been vulnerable with anyone really, and that vulnerability brought temporary security when Columbina said that her love was unconditional, whether Sandrone could bleed or couldn't, she would love her just the same.
But then something switched, when she began consciously wiping away blood from the corners of Columbina's mouth, blood of another person. Sandrone couldn't help but feel possessive, especially when any semblance of biting was done with nothing but love in their relationship. It was an uncomfortable insecurity, to stare at Columbina, to hear Arlecchino discuss blood tastes with her, to hear Rosalyne's teasing occasionally.
“I don't care what's unconditional to you, Columbina!” And yet, Sandrone was still melting into the embrace, head buried in the crook of Columbina's neck, emotions she couldn't quite process flooding her module.
“I love you regardless, Sandrone.” The other woman pulled away, searching Sandrone's expression while her hand held the back of Sandrone's neck. Columbina didn't look upset with her. There was a quiet kind of understanding in her expression. It was one of the rare times that her eyes were open, that familiar hypnotic lilac colour still as beautiful as ever. “I won't stop you if you want to continue building that system, but you don't have to. I want you and only you in whatever state you are in.” One of those cold hands found her own, outlining each of her joints with gentle touches.
“You don't get it…” Sandrone watched her trace the lines of her joints, throat tightening.
Columbina nodded, running a thumb over her knuckles. “You're right. I don't. That's why you should explain it to me, tell me what I did to make you think you had to do this.” She hadn't done anything. That was the problem. Everything felt too good to be true, Columbina felt too real, too genuine.
“Why me? Of all people, Columbina. Why me?” She let her forehead fall against Columbina's collarbone, allowed a hand to hold the back of her neck once more, allowed herself to be pulled into a tight embrace by the single arm looped around her waist.
“Am I not allowed to just love you?” Sandrone shook her head, jaw clenching before she spoke.
“I want reasons, Columbina.”
“Okay… Firstly, you never treated me like an experiment,” A small, comforting kiss was pressed against her shoulder, "Secondly, you speak about things you enjoy with more genuine emotion than I've seen from humans in five hundred years,” another was pressed against the bottom of her neck, “Thirdly, you're the smartest person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and loving,” This time, Columbina's hand cupped her jaw, pushing Sandrone's body back slightly to press the next kiss against her cheek. “There isn't a single part of you that I don't love, Sandrone. There's too much to list in just twenty minutes before we need to get home. I would choose you over anyone.”
Silence washed over them both, Sandrone was trying to gather her thoughts after the words, eyes flickering to the desk beside them. “I'm not even a real person, Columbina. And I'm the only person you bothered to spend time with for almost half of those five hundred years. There isn't much competition.”
“Does being a puppet make you less than a person?” Sandrone scoffed quietly at that, gaze shifting to the floor.
“Humanity is below me.”
“And yet, you act more human than actual humans.” It was ridiculous to doubt Columbina's love for her. Most vampires bond for life. Once they love someone, that feeling usually never fades, even in the rare chance a vampire finds another partner. Columbina had proven that by following Sandrone around like a lost puppy for two centuries and yearning for roughly five decades before that, and then continuing to treat life like the world revolved around Sandrone and Sandrone only. And yet, a small part of her still tried to find reasons to improve herself so Columbina wouldn't leave. Subtle, unnoticeable changes, but ones she was sure Columbina would appreciate in the long run.
“You're so… shut up.” Sandrone choked out, pulling away from the embrace to avoid overwhelming her emotion module.
“How long have you been working on this?” A hand cupped the back of her neck, comforting, or at least as comforting as Columbina could be right now.
“Five years. Almost six.” Columbina visibly stiffened for a moment, smile faltering. “I don't have to tell you everything…”
“I know. But I would have liked to know if this has taken multiple years.” It was fair for Columbina to be upset, but Sandrone couldn't help but be irritated at the reaction. She should be able to not tell people about something. “We should get home soon, my love.” That hand fell away, Columbina's smile still wavering as she walked. It was forced, twitching at the corners occasionally. She was humming, a quiet thing, something Sandrone listened to intently while walking. It was awkward, a silence only filled by melodic humming, one that was usually filled by quiet teasing and Sandrone's irritated remarks.
Neither of them broke that silence, Sandrone was too stubborn to do so, and Columbina was… Columbina, and so, they returned home in that state. The humming had stopped halfway through their walk, only leaving the sounds of Snezhnaya to fill it, the only sound Sandrone hated more than Dottore's voice.
That noise faded when they stepped into their home, door clicking shut behind them. Columbina hesitated in front of her, eyes flickering in Sandrone's direction. There was no forced smile on her face now, only an uncertainty remained.
“You… you never told me what I did to cause that.” Columbina eventually spoke, voice steady. But her body language was anything but steady. Her wings kept twitching, hands wouldn't stay still, and most of all, she wasn't fiddling with one of Sandrone's fingers, one of the usual things she did during serious conversations.
Sandrone scoffed, unintentionally pushing past the woman. “What do you think?”
“I don't know. And if you won't tell me what, I can't improve anything to make you feel better.” It was difficult to stay mad when Columbina's irritatingly helpful considerate self said something. With a shaky breath, Sandrone gripped the counter she leaned against, gaze lifting to scan Columbina's face. She looked nervous, eyes closed, brows twitching.
“You keep biting anyone else but me. At this point, you're more likely to bite Arlecchino or Rosalyne before you mark me.” It was also difficult to express how she felt outloud, so that brief sentence felt like a whole month of fuel draining immediately. “And all you say is it might hurt me, but it's been two centuries, Columbina. It's starting to feel like you're waiting for someone else to swoop down into your life that feels worth the permanent bite.” Columbina crossed the room in slow, measured steps. Her hand immediately found Sandrone's own when close enough.
Momentarily, it felt like her core had shut down completely due to the overwhelming pressure on her emotion module, but she didn't pull away from the touch, didn't run away from a necessary conversation. “Okay… Thank you for telling me.” Sandrone stiffly nodded, gaze shifting to the floor. “I'm not waiting for anyone. I do not want anyone but you. And I know that waiting so long is… a very long time,” Those slender fingers tightened around her own, keeping Sandrone from abruptly ending this conversation and retreating upstairs. “But it is true, I don't want to accidentally hurt you or permanently damage something. I will do it, one day, when I don't risk harming you.”
“You won't harm me, Columbina!” Sandrone stiffened at the outburst, sharply inhaling before speaking again. “I'm not a human. Anything you do to me can be easily fixed.” It wasn't entirely true, there were parts she consisted of that couldn't be replaced, but unless Columbina had an intent to try to fry her system, it was very unlikely any of them were touched.
“But I might, you don't know that, Sandrone.”
“You can just say you don't want to make us permanent yet instead of always making excuses about—”
“It's not an excuse, Sandrone.” Columbina cut her off, fingers now trembling in the hold. “I do want this to be permanent, I really do. I would want nothing more than to spend forever with you, Sandrone. I'm just not ready to risk injuring you like that yet.” Sandrone let out a shaky sigh, left hand finding Columbina's shoulder, searching. She wasn't sure what she was searching for, maybe answers, maybe a reason she liked.
“At this rate, you never will be ready…” She placed her head in the crook of Columbina's shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh. The bitterness she felt was wrong. She should be accepting that Columbina wasn't quite ready yet, should wait instead of getting irritated. But she was irritated, and she was getting tired of waiting.
Columbina shifted against her front, fingers curling around her thigh to lift Sandrone onto the counter. “I will be one day, my love.”
“It doesn't feel like it…”
A hand held her thigh, pulling her as close as possible. “And I am so sorry I made you feel that way.” Columbina's voice was genuine, apologetic. After speaking, she tucked her head under Sandrone's chin, a single arm wrapping around her waist. “I love you more than words can express.” She believed it, she always believed it. Because Columbina wouldn't lie about that. But Sandrone still felt that lingering ache, the one caused from years of reeling in her own conclusions. She pulled Columbina closer, fingers curling around the back of her bowtie.
“We need to get ready for bed…” Sandrone eventually muttered, relishing in her temporary light of not being covered in dust. Columbina groaned when pulling back, huffing. “Go get your ridiculous dust and then come back.”
She wasn't waiting for long, as Columbina came sauntering back over, turning her back to Sandrone after pushing her legs apart. It was easy to go through their routine, her fingers still moving carefully. Just because she was both upset and irritated with Columbina, it didn't mean that her gentleness should be forgotten. It was important to stay gentle, otherwise, the chances of hurting Columbina doubled. By the third pair of wings, Columbina's fingers were subconsciously kneading her thigh, quiet, likely unintentional sighs following. Sandrone wanted to tell her to be quiet, but it felt unnecessary, something that would just cause more problems.
Instead of heading straight to bed, Columbina lingered outside while Sandrone showered, walking close enough that Sandrone could feel Columbina's shoulder with each step. Much to her displeasure, that closeness lingered while she was getting dressed, too.
“There is still three weeks until spring, Columbina, save your clinging for then.”
“I just want to be close to you.” Columbina shifted where she stood. “Do you really keep track of… that?”
“Yes, Columbina. If I didn't keep track of it I wouldn't have time to book leave for the both of us.” A quiet ‘oh’ came from Columbina, her head turned away from Sandrone completely. “Please, you are two centuries too late to be embarrassed about something nature shoved upon you.”
“It is embarrassing…”
Eventually, Columbina stopped muttering and allowed herself to rest, head tucked under Sandrone's chin. Multiple kisses had been pressed against her collarbone before doing so, allowing Sandrone to sit in silence with her thoughts. Waiting hurt, it had hurt for so many years she lost count, but she wanted Columbina to be ready, wanted the brief belief that she was temporary to fade. And for a moment, it did, with Columbina pulled close, the other woman's arms wrapped tightly around her waist while her systems powered down for the day.
***
Sandrone had expected it not to work, for something to go wrong, and yet, she felt warmer. She could feel the warm red liquid flowing through her. She looked the exact same, her physical appearance hadn't changed, but internally, she may as well be a new person. Her internal workings were adjusted, placed to resemble what she could only refer to as organs.
The actual maintenance was a blur, she couldn't remember most of it, only that one moment she was staring at the desk, and the next she was four hours late to get home.
The sun was bright in the sky, a painful sight, quite literally. It burned to look at after adjusting to the dark for so long, the dark Columbina was probably sat in, bored, worried, even. And most definitely alone. With a quiet groan, Sandrone stopped trying to process the overwhelming sensation of an artificial heart beating in her chest. As much as she hated to admit it, the thought of Columbina wondering where she was and missing her made Sandrone want to forget entirely about work.
In the hallway, Rosalyne had quite literally stopped moving mid step, jaw agape upon staring at her for multiple seconds. Sandrone didn't stop to speak, rather, she pushed past the taller blonde, eyes glued to the exit.
—
Upon arriving home, there was no immediate signs of Columbina's presence, it was an eerie silence, one that made settle over Sandrone's shoulders as she walked through the house. It was dark, every light flipped off. On the way, she had caught her hand on the knife she had foolishly left unsheathed on her waist, that was likely why an uneasy silence had filled the house. Columbina's sense of smell was immense, she could likely not only smell the blood trickling down her fingertips, but also hear the blood flowing through her veins.
Sandrone swallowed the rare flicker of fear that had lumped in her throat. Columbina wasn't violent, not towards anyone. She bit, watched, and then euthanized when handling death sentences, but never acted out any violence. There was no need to be scared. But she was, it was a ringing silence, one that meant she could hear the quiet creak behind her.
“Columbina…?” Sandrone called out, stifling the tremble in her voice. Obviously, the mirror before her showed no reflection but her own in the very dull light peeking through the living room window.
She knew Columbina was somewhere behind her, just not where. “Why can I hear a pulse?” Her artificial heart leaped, she was close, close enough to feel the words against her shoulder. “Why do you have a pulse?” Slowly, Sandrone turned, composing herself prior to doing so.
“I… My experiment was successful.” the light was flicked on, relieving Sandrone from the strain of trying to see in the dark. Columbina's eyes were open, suspicious, perhaps even slightly confused.
“You're bleeding.” Columbina glanced down at her hand, Before her gaze snapped away, pupils visibly dilating. Her jaw was clenched, fingers twitching. Without thinking, Sandrone shoved her hand in Columbina's direction, watching how her eyes dilated even more, how her throat bobbed.
It was a display of self-control she had seen before with Columbina, one she desperately wanted to break. She needed to see Columbina's self-control crumble, needed her to give into the nature she tried so hard to reject when near Sandrone.
“Drink it.” Her hand shook, a primal need that Sandrone shouldn't have as a puppet wracking through her body. It was sudden, considering that she had only just returned home, but not sudden at the same time.
“I… I can't do that to you, Sandrone.” Columbina shook her head, voice strained. But she didn't move away, her gaze stayed glued to the red substance now trailing down Sandrone's arm.
“Columbina, I don't need protection. Whatever you do is something I've waited centuries for.” She didn't try stifling the need in her voice. Almost two centuries of pleading silently and openly to just feel those fangs slide into her skin. “Tell me no, and I'll drop it.” But Columbina didn't say no, instead, trembling fingers curled around her wrist.
“Please tell me if I hurt you…” There was hesitation, a lot of it. As if Columbina was trying to decide whether or not she should be doing this or not. It took one last encouraging nod for the trail of blood running down her arm to be cleaned away, the wound on her hand remained, it was one Columbina couldn't heal for the sole reason that it wasn't her own bite. But Sandrone didn't care about that. She was focused on the fangs hovering over her wrist, the visibly gradual crumbling restraint in her body language.
When she finally bit down, Sandrone quietly gasped, eyes fluttering shut. It felt just how she had imagined, addictive, like her artificial nerves were on fire. Columbina hummed into it, her eyes fluttering shut. But it was short lived, as those fangs soon retracted.
“You taste divine, my love.” Columbina pressed one last kiss to the bite mark on her wrist before it healed over, just another thing Columbina was capable of doing. Her pupils were dilated, those white pupils covering a majority of lilac her eyes held. Concern still clouded Columbina's expression, but it had dulled. “Undoubtedly the best I've ever tasted.” Truthfully, Sandrone couldn't help but feel a flicker of jealousy at the words.
“Of course I do. It was custom-made to suit your tastes.” Fingers curled around her wrist, dragging Sandrone towards the stairs, where Columbina would drag her into a kiss every few steps, humming after pulling away. After multiple minutes, Sandrone felt her head meet soft pillows, felt those cold knees bracket her hips.
Sandrone gave a sharp gasp when those fangs sunk into where her artificial pulse point lay. It felt more sensitive than when Columbina had bitten her wrist, more intimate. She gave small kitten kicks to the area prior to biting down, muttering a quiet ‘are you sure?’ Before doing so. It was a ridiculous question, if she didn't want this, Sandrone wouldn't have devoted seven years of continuous work building a functional circulatory system that produced blood Columbina could consume, wouldn't have thrown pride aside to plead with her to just bite.
“Columbina—” The name failed to be stifled along with the various other sounds she was pleading with herself not to let go of. Her fingers curled tighter into the silky black and magenta hair they tangled around, feeling those soft white wings twitch when slid In-between Sandrone's fingers, pushing Columbina's head further against her neck with a choked back whine. It was messy, blunt nails digging into her skin, teeth digging further into her neck, not enough to be lethal, but enough to make her skin buzz. It was animalistic, too, how Columbina seemed desperate, as if she were starving. Everything felt excruciatingly good, to feel Columbina squirming against her front, allowing Sandrone to push her head down firmer and firmer and firmer until in response, the other woman pushed back against the hand, releasing her neck with a quiet sigh. She was smiling, soft, affectionate, dreamy, a smile that made Sandrone's synthetic heart melt.
She had waited so long for this, dreamed about it for nights, and now it was finally happening, better than she had ever imagined.
“Thank you, my dearest Sandrone.” Columbina mumbled, tongue lapping up the remaining blood before Sandrone pushed her head away, earning little fight from Columbina, who now looked concerned above all. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Don't heal it, please.” Blood was covering Columbina's lips and chin, some of it slightly smeared across her cheek where Columbina had barely wiped her mouth, unusual for her usually calm, clean eating, but that just made Sandrone's chest bloom with warmth while gently wiping it off the tip of her nose.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make a mess.” Columbina mumbled, frowning. Sandrone observed how her hands and legs were trembling, how a deep red flush had spread across the woman's face, something that usually never happened due to her undead nature.
“I find it endearing. This once, your mess is appreciated, I suppose.” With a gentle nod, Sandrone felt those sharp fangs graze the opposite side of her neck, the crook of it, sending a jolt of dull pleasure down her spine. Instead of sinking her fangs into the skin, Columbina kissed the area instead, hands trailing up Sandrone waist. It didn't take long for her to realise Columbina had, for the most part, retracted her fangs, nipping at the soft, sensitive skin there.
And then, without warning, Columbina did bite down, hard. Her fangs soon followed, digging deeper and deeper to an almost painful degree. It was similar to how Sandrone had pushed Columbina further against her neck. Only this time, Sandrone didn't have to encourage her to bite harder.
It felt like Columbina was trying to leave a mark that would never fade, one that would linger on her skin even in their next lifetime. But Sandrone couldn't want something more, to glance at the mirror each morning and see two identical circular scars on the side of her neck. It was possessive, undoubtedly so. How Columbina's fingers curled tightly into the front of Sandrone's dress, breathing uneven, a quiet groan muffled against her skin when one of Sandrone's hands curled into the start of her wings and the other grabbed the nape of Columbina's neck. An arm wrapped around Sandrone's shoulders, pulling their bodies impossibly closer.
Sandrone tilted her head back against the pillows, eyes screwing shut as she muffled the quiet, breathy moan that threatened to escape her lips. With a quiet gasp, Columbina pulled back, eyes half-lidded before she once more lightly licked the area clean of blood, forehead falling against Sandrone's shoulder.
“Did that hurt?” She mumbled, properly straddling Sandrone's hips, who shook her head. Thinking, let alone speaking, was difficult enough currently, a simple head movement was all she could really manage. That trail of blood had now travelled down the column of Columbina's throat, splitting into two separate lines that outlined the area. Her off centre bowtie also had red blooming against the usually pristine and soft white fabric.
Sandrone found herself practically hypnotised by the sight, not bothering to comment on the fact red was also blooming on the pillow she laid on, for once too entranced by a sight she had never seen before to scold Columbina for not being cleaner with it.
By the end, Columbina's head rested against her collarbone, breathing now steady, even. Sandrone's body ached pleasurably with bites, most of which were dry bites, ones that she didn't feed from, but rather for the purpose of just marking. The skin hadn't broken on a lot of them, Columbina had been cautious of that, of not hurting her.
Not a single flicker of regret for the past seven years came to her mind. Everything was worth it, that was without a doubt.
Most of them had been healed over by Columbina, even after Sandrone's protesting. But they still ached, a dull, perfect thing. The ones that weren't healed over, Columbina had cleaned while nipping at the skin of her mandible. Along with it came quiet apologies, ones Sandrone insisted she stop giving, but alas, she didn't listen. It seemed like Columbina thought what she had done to be wrong, presumably because feeding was always an aim for lethality thing to her. But none of the bites were lethal, even if she acted like a feral initially. They were intimate, a well composed vampire losing herself in the moment, abandoning the self-control she had mastered through the centuries. It was desperate, vulnerable, and the purest kind of emotion.
It took a while to convince her that it was okay, through unsure stares and multiple ‘are you sure?’, Columbina eventually nodded, trailing tender kisses up the column of Sandrone's throat. While muttering one last apology.
Sandrone hadn't tried to tone down the sarcasm while it happened. This was a delicate topic and an even more delicate action. For all she knew, it would take one comment for Columbina to retreat and fall back against other means of sustenance, especially when Columbina very frequently feared hurting Sandrone. And so, for once, her own guard was dropped, just as Columbina finally dropped her own.
“I need to get dressed, Columbina…” She mumbled, shaking Columbina's shoulder with a watchful hold.
With a quiet groan, Columbina shook her head, burying herself further against Sandrone. “We can sleep like this.”
“No, we can't.” Finally, Columbina separated from her, sliding off the bed to take her overly complicated white dress off and replace it with pyjamas. Sandrone scoffed at the action, at how simple her sleepwear was compared to her every day rotation of the exact same seven dresses but different ribbons.
Taking the opportunity, Sandrone too got dressed, before groaning about the fact she still had a routine to do. One that required Columbina to stay still and her hands to stop shaking.
“Lay on your stomach.” She watched Columbina comply, head tilted with curiosity as she did so. Once Sandrone couldn't see anymore movement, she placed both hands on Columbina's shoulders, seating herself on the woman's back. Abruptly, Columbina broke the perfect position to get this routine over and done with by turning her head to the side, cheek lifting off the sheets.
“I may suffocate if my head stays there, my dearest Sandrone.” Fingers curled into the back of Columbina's hair, tilting her head forward before pushing it into the bedding. A muffled sound was the only response to her action.
“Be quiet. You don't need to breathe.” Sandrone tried to calm the tremors running through her hands by lightly pressing her thumbs into Columbina's shoulders in a circular rhythm, listening to the quiet humming it resulted in, but that didn't work entirely. With an even more shaky sigh, she held the first wing in the palm of her hand, staring. “How on Teyvat did you get blood on your wings?” Sandrone allowed Columbina to lift her head once more, waiting for the woman's explanation.
“I did wipe my mouth… it could have been then. I am not sure.” Of course she didn't know.
“Get up, you need to wash that out.”
“My feathers don't stain, Sandrone.”
With a scoff, Sandrone pushed Columbina's head back down. “Fine.”
—
“Have you eaten today?” Their routine hadn't changed much, apart from the occasional feeding. Columbina's words about loving Sandrone the same regardless of what she did or didn't have had proved to be true. The night after, however, Columbina had been exceptionally clingy and affectionate, something Rosalyne had mentioned in passing being quite common when she arrived at work. But it was irritating, how she couldn't get any work done when Columbina wouldn't stop clinging to her.
Sandrone could still vividly remember Columbina's legs looping around her waist, how she wouldn't stop acting touch starved. Almost like an affectionate, blood drinking cat with how she continuously rubbed her cheek and jaw against Sandrone's neck and shoulders. It had gotten to the point where anyone, person, vampire, or even machine that entered Sandrone's workshop for work was met with hostility from an always polite and caring Columbina. It was weird to watch, but it was interesting to study while it lasted.
“No, Dottore won't let me while I'm in experimentation.” Columbina mumbled, crossing the room in a few strides before pulling Sandrone into a hug, head falling into the crook of her neck, just as always. Her hand found the back on Columbina's head, giving a slow but encouraging push, one that resulted in Columbina briefly pulling back. “I can't bite your neck. We have a harbinger meeting tomorrow.”
Sandrone rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Go drink a blood bag then. I have work.” But instead of walking away, her palm pressed firmly against Sandrone's knee, pushing the leg apart from the other.
“Is this okay?” Columbina mumbled, falling to her knees while her palm ran over the skin of Sandrone's inner thigh.
“I—yes. Yes, it is.” Sandrone shifted, leaning further against the desk behind her as that irritatingly polite woman pulled her stocking halfway down her leg, thumb pressing against different points on her inner thigh. “Columbina, you are just feeding. Why are you teasing me!”
“I'm sorry. I've never fed from someone like this… I am merely finding the best place to bite.” Guilt prickled at Sandrone's fingertips upon seeing Columbina's nervous expression and body language. But finally, her thumb came to a stop, being replaced by a soft kiss. Anticipation burned at Sandrone's nerves, so much that she had to force her hands to stop shaking when a familiar few nips met the arguably much more sensitive area of her inner thigh.
They were soon followed by an actual bite, fangs puncturing her skin in an initially painful bite. But that pain almost immediately faded, replaced by a familiar pleasurable ache. For a moment, all of her work was forgotten, replaced by this moment. Quicker than usual, Columbina pulled back, kissing the area softly
“I told you not to heal them” Sandrone groaned, trying to calm the light tremors running through her body.
“I can't just let you walk around with open wounds, my love.”
“Why did you have to bite my thigh if you can heal the mark anyway?” Sandrone lifted her head, brows furrowed.
Columbina quietly coughed into her hand. “Ah… I think I left the stove on. I will see you at home, my love.”
“You can't even eat food cooked on the stove!” scrunching up a blank piece of paper at the woman, watching as she caught it with a grin.
“Goodbye, Sandrone. I will see you at home.” This time, she didn't try to stop Columbina from leaving. The sun would rise soon, that would trap them both here, considering the fact Sandrone refused to leave Columbina alone when she had the option of keeping her company.
—
Unfortunately, Rosalyne had proposed a small gathering after the harbinger meeting, one Columbina had agreed to when asked. That was why she was dragging Columbina through a far too expensive hall, muttering about how stupid she was.
Almost the second Sandrone entered the room, Arlecchino's head snapped up, eyes wide. It made Sandrone send a questioning glance Columbina's way, only to find her already sitting beside Rosalyne.
“You… You both… Ah, never mind.” For a moment, Arlecchino seemed shocked before shrugging.
Sandrone too was confused, brows furrowed. “We what?”
Rosalyne chuckled, placing her drink down. “Sandrone, dear, to every vampire on Teyvat, you reek of claim. At least you'll be safe from any attacks, and you'll almost always smell good to us regardless, that's another bonus, I suppose.”
“Smell good…?”
“Like tuberose and jasmine. Classic.” Rosalyne hummed for a moment. “How did you do it? Marking someone takes a vampire that doesn't gnaw at her nails every day because she's scared of hurting you… unless you try hard enough, but I would suppose now isn't the time to discuss that.”
Columbina burried her head in her hands, whining. “Rosalyne…”
“Right. Well, aren't you looking handsome as ever, Columbina. How have you been dear?” Rosalyne chuckled, adjusting the collar of Columbina's shirt and bowtie. Sandrone could see how the words practically made Columbina start uncontrollably grinning.
“I am well, thank you. How have you been?” Sandrone watched the conversation unravel, eyes flickering between the three until the topic of flavours came up. She wasn't sure what was said, but Columbina had shifted in her seat, head facing Arlecchino entirely.
“I do not know what Sandrone tastes like, Columbina, that isn't very insightful.” Suddenly, Rosalyne's hand firmly grabbed Columbina's shoulder, forcing the woman to sit back down upon hearing the words. “And I think I will stick to not knowing.” Arlecchino added a quiet ‘especially after that reaction’ at the end.
Sandrone glanced questioningly at Rosalyne, who had retracted her hand, placing it neatly back in her lap. Slowly, the woman leaned over, smirking.
“Don't worry, it's nothing major. Just a bit of possessiveness that twists words.”
“I can hear you, Rosalyne.”
“Oh please, you would hear me even if I was across the hall whispering it. You were meant to.” Columbina sighed at the words, resting her head on the table. “Now go for a walk or something, both of you. This little one sided spat is staying a one time thing.”
Once the other two had temporarily left, the previous almost altercation presumably forgotten based on how Columbina was acting, Sandrone turned to Rosalyne.
“How did you even know Columbina wasn't getting up for a napkin or something?”
“Can't you read your own partners tells?” Rosalyne teased, shaking her head. “It's okay. They aren't noticeable to those who aren't actively prepared for it, Sandrone.”
“So, how did you know?”
“For one, her jaw tightened, and she stopped smiling, two things Columbina rarely does around Arlecchino. Those two have had a total of one mini argument in the length of their friendship,” Rosalyne sighed, sipping her drink. “And because any violence towards other vampires is expected, especially after the fact any vampire in Teyvat can tell, she was most definitely trying to make that mark one that would linger on your soul too. The kind that will never fade no matter what life you're living.” Quietly, Rosalyne muttered about how clean the marks were for someone who was obviously desperate. “She should go back to not seeing everyone who goes near you as a threat in a week or two, don't worry.”
Sandrone stiffly nodded, staring at the door Columbina had just left out of. “If she's like that right now, why agree to come here?”
“Because she's supposed to be calm and ethereal. What would people think if she avoided an event because not holding you feels like torture.” It made her think, about how she wouldn't stop twitching when more than an arms length away from Sandrone, how when at home, she practically refused to separate from any embrace they shared.
“How do you know that's how she feels? And why didn't she act hostile towards you?”
“Because I already found my person, Sandrone…” Rosalyne hummed, swirling the dark red liquid she was drinking around the glasses. “Although, I may be downplaying it. You both have waited two centuries longer than I did, and I imagine not being near you for too long would drive her feral.” Sandrone slowly nodded, smiling to herself “At least if she gets on your nerves, you can threaten to inject garlic into your blood.”
“This is your fault, Rosalyne…”
“All because I said you weren't the only one she was eating.” Rosalyne chuckled, shaking her head.
—
Their meeting was brief, cut short by Rosalyne who suggested they return home and rest. Sandrone had agreed relatively quick, walking towards the door without waiting for Columbina, who very quickly followed.
“Did she say something to you?” Columbina questioned, head tilted.
She waved a hand in the air, glancing at Columbina from the corner of her eye. “Yeah, that you'll stop acting like a starving dog defending a bone so I can go back to work in a few weeks.”
“You're much more than a bone to me.” A soft hand found her own gloved hand, pulling their shoulders together.
“It was an example, Columbina!”
“You took her joke seriously. Why?” of course she heard that, seen as both Columbina and Arlecchino had returned moments after it was said.
“I'm asking myself that too, considering you're a damn pillow princess. Her joke was entirely inaccurate.” Sandrone sighed eyes fluttering shut. She felt exhausted for the first time in decades, her eyes drooping with each step, the only thing keeping her awake being the gentle tugs on her hand each time a step faltered. The key on her back had slowed, a clear sign of her system pleading for rest.
“I can get us home before you can blink, if that would be easier for you?” Columbina hummed, acknowledging the exhaustion. Stiffly, Sandrone nodded, allowing Columbina to pick her up, not leaving enough time for Sandrone to wrap her legs around Columbina's waist properly before a jolt washed over her. Quite literally before she could blink, her surroundings had faded into the familiar scene of her bedroom, key already carefully removed and placed on the bedside table.
“Sleep, my love. You need it.” With one last gentle kiss, Columbina slid into bed beside her, arms looped around Sandrone's waist. There was no wait for her system to rest this time, world fading quicker than she could complain about a messed up schedule.
—
Waking up earlier that day felt like torture, apparently, it had taken more than twenty-four hours for her system to recuperate. Now, she stood in her workshop, staring at multiple unfinished project logs.
Two arms looped around her waist, followed by a small ‘Sandrone’ sighed against the back of her neck.
“Columbina I'm working.”
“Sandrone.” There was a trembling firmness to her tone this time, one that made Sandrone pause.
Turning to face the woman, she nodded slowly. “Yes…?”
“Please blood bond with me.” The wrench in her hand made a loud thud when dropped against the table, conflicting emotions swarming her mind at the words.
“Was the mark not enough for you? Is the leash not tight enough?” Apparently, that joke didn't land, as Columbina sharply inhaled, pulling away. She looked genuinely worried, a mix of regret, remorse, and various other things clouding her face.
Her hands were shaking, and her brows furrowed. “I don't want you on a leash, Sandrone. I just—”
“I wasn't serious, Columbina.” Sandrone sighed. “You… you wanted me to do that?”
“Not fully, I don't want you to be fully bonded. That would take away the freedom you worked for… but I've drank yours, and…” If Columbina were human, she would be bright red, that was painfully obvious. But then again, so would Sandrone. It was an intimate proposal, a very, very intimate one. Much more intimate than the nights they spent tangled up in the sheets of their bed together, at least, from a vampire's standpoint it was.
Sandrone had studied Columbina's behaviours, linked them to her nature and then noted how different to many of her own kind she acted. Too gentle to fit into the average vampire name, not ‘normal’ enough for humans to view her as not a threat, no matter how polite or caring she was. It was why Columbina spent most of her nights in a flower field or at home when Sandrone was working, to avoid scaring anyone who only saw the vampire aspect of Columbina instead of realising she was more gentle than most people.
While Arlecchino, Rosalyne, and occasionally Capitano spent time with Columbina, none of them but Arlecchino actively sought out making sure she wasn't too lonely while Sandrone was drowned with work.
And now, she was going partially against that nature one more, proposing a beyond intimate gesture that very few beings got.
“I'm sorry, it was a—”
“I'll do it.” A flicker of panic flashed over Sandrone's body, eyes widening slightly upon realising Columbina was pulling back.
She watched how Columbina bit down on her own wrist and watched how her head tilted back. But then came the realisation that Columbina wasn't swallowing.
“No. No, I'm not doing that, Columbina.” With a frown, Columbina pulled her wrist away, eyes cracking open. Sandrone watched her throat bobbed as she finally swallowed, head tilting to the side. She grimaced at Columbina's act of drinking her own blood, but didn't comment on it.
“Why not?”
“Oh for Archon's sake, just do it.” Stiffly, Columbina nodded after a moment of hesitation, wrist returning to where it once was.
Abruptly, an arm wrapped around her neck, pulling Sandrone into a deep, almost desperate kiss. The metallic, almost sweet blood Columbina had gone down easy, that almost addictive taste lingering on her tongue as the kiss deepened even further. Columbina's hand found her jaw while Sandrone's own hands curled into the woman's shoulders, trying to ease the warmth building within her modules. Part of her wanted to keep that taste on her tongue forever, to feel the haze towards everything but Columbina forever.
Sandrone found her fingers curling into Columbina's collar to both stay standing but also keep her in place, an action that didn't work whatsoever. Columbina pulled back, eyes half-lidded, full of nothing bit adoration.
“I have a meeting to attend… I promise I'll be back soon, my love.” She pulled Sandrone into multiple more chaste kisses before finally pulling away, eyes fluttering shut.
It felt as if she were in a daze watching Columbina leave, a dull haze fogging her thoughts. Processing what had just happened wasn't going to work anytime soon, rather, she turned to the incomplete documents on her desk, groaning quietly.
That haze was bad enough to make Sandrone unaware of the fact Rosalyne had entered her workshop, ranting about something Tartaglia had done. But she wasn't listening, not entirely. And then, suddenly, that ranting stopped.
Rosalyne's eyes narrowed at her, analysing and sharp.
“Something is different about you.” She stated, voice dripping with suspicion. Sandrone tried to focus on her, tried to stop her mind from looping back around to Columbina. “You wrote Columbina's name instead of your own on a document, for one,” Sandrone's attention was successfully caught upon hearing the woman's name, causing Rosalyne's eyebrows to raise. “And now your eyes are more pupil than I have ever seen on you.”
“I'm fine, Rosalyne.” Her voice was strained, an attempt to keep it steady only to sound even more guilty.
“Oh for—Columbina!” it was a loud yell, one both Arlecchino and Columbina undoubtedly heard, along with every other vampire currently in the building. In a blink, Columbina was standing by the door, confusion written all over her face.
“Yes—?”
“Why in your right mind would you let her come to work after not only marking her, but going through with a blood bond?” Columbina's spine straightened immediately, a visible defensiveness clouding her expression.
“I don't need to give her permission to go somewhere, so why shouldn't I? And it wasn't a full one.” It was accusatory, a trap for Rosalyne to fall into, something the woman didn't do. Instead, she sighed, pinching her nose bridge.
“You both can't just show up to work after these things. You're going to get in trouble with The Tsaritsa for things like writing wrong names on documents. At least give it a week to adjust and recover.”
“That was the one time…”
Rosalyne shushed her, eyes sharp, piercing. “You two are making it easy for anyone who wants you dead to do that. If anyone finds out you've done whatever it is, this is a death sentence.”
“What?” Momentarily, a full string of thoughts formed, and then faded again, still revolving around one specific person.
“Dont act a fool, Sandrone! If you do, it will drive her feral to the point of eventual death when she decides living without you isn't worth the pain anymore.” Rosalyne inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering shut. “I understand you love each other, but you have to be careful with these kinds of things, Columbina. You should know that by now seen as you are only a few decades younger than me.” Sandrone fiddled with the document in front of her, trying to avoid facing the potentially fatal ignorance she had participated in.
“I—”
“Don't try to justify it, Columbina. Unless you are both actively trying to widen the targets on both of your backs, there is no need for you to be here right now.” Stiffly, Columbina nodded, head tilted towards the floor. “There is no recovery if she dies, Columbina. You will be haunted by the love you couldn't just hide while recovering for the rest of your life if this slip-up reaches the wrong person.”
Sandrone wanted to deny it, wanted to think of any excuse as to why being here right now was okay. But there wasn't, Rosalyne was right, it was idiotic to not at least clear the fog in her mind before coming to work with people who were prepared to stab her in the back without hesitation given the chance.
“Can you tell Pierro we'll be gone, and get someone to recap my meeting when we return?” Columbina mumbled, crossing the room to stand beside Sandrone's desk.
“Yes, just leave before Pantalone or Dottore realise she's acting differently. You have two weeks.” Without waiting another moment, Columbina eased Sandrone to her feet, glancing nervously Rosalyne's way when the usually snappy and cold woman was now staring at Columbina's face like she had just discovered the most precious thing know to man kind.
Somewhere behind the ringing, Sandrone could hear Rosalyne scoff as they walked, but that wasn't what she cared about. Currently, all she could pay attention to was Columbina. From the first steps taken into the hall, to the first steps into her bedroom, after a much lengthier than usual nightly routine. Over that time, her mind had cleared slightly, everything becoming clearer at the edges.
Columbina had carefully removed her key, forehead rested on the woman's shoulder blade. “You need rest, my love.” With a gentle kiss to the crook of Sandrone's neck, Columbina pulled back briefly, placing the key somewhere on her bedside table.
“Columbina?” She turned her head to the side, eyes meeting Columbina's own. She was opening them more often recently, most days at home, that transparent blindfold was removed.
“Yes?” A gentle hand rested on her lower back, just like before, just like always.
“About what Rosalyne said… about what would happen if I died,” Columbina's face saddened at her words, as if she were avoiding the thought entirely. “Would that really kill you, too?”
“I… Not on its own, no.” With that, Sandrone turned fully, hands grabbing Columbina's cheeks. “I do not believe I can put it into words what many vampires feel when their one dies. Many end their own suffering just to escape it, others die from the lack of care for self-preservation it causes.” Columbina's voice tightened. She didn't cry. She couldn't cry, but it was obvious Columbina would be if she could. It made Sandrone feel the need to comfort her until the light trembling in her hands faded.
“Good thing I'm not going to die any time soon then, huh?” While Sandrone, nor anyone but a vampire would understand the emotions Columbina felt, she could sympathise with them, could listen to her talk about it all day, even if she did frequently tell Columbina to stop talking, that voice would always be the most precious thing Sandrone held to her heart, along with everything Columbina did, how she couldn't be luckier to have a love that would outlive her for eternity, from this lifetime to the next, and then every single one after that. But she would never entirely understand.
But Sandrone didn't want to think about another lifetime's Columbina, she only cared about this one, about the one she held every night, about the one that treated her like a blessing instead of something to be tamed and controlled.
It was strange, to remember the days she used to plead with the gods in the morning that Columbina wouldn't bother her today, the days she was still blinded by the belief that all vampires merely wanted something to control, and yet, she couldn't help but appreciate that time, the time she learned the difference between genuine love and control.
For once, the words ‘I will always love you’ sounded true, like a genuine promise Columbina could and did keep. Not one of the in passing statements someone threw out there just to not mean it. Columbina had said it like a vow, like something unquestionable and certain, something that had a thousand promises in one, all of which Columbina kept.
“Sandrone?” A cold hand rested on her shoulder, jolting the puppet out of her admiration.
“I was thinking.”
“What about?” Columbina gently kissed the tip of her nose, thumb running over the edge of her collarbone.
“Wouldn't you like to know.” Sandrone huffed, reciprocating with a chaste kiss before walking past Columbina towards their bed.
Behind her, the woman chuckled instead of answering. Suddenly, hearing that sound, a tight feeling enclosed around her throat, followed by a light burning in her eyes. Sandrone knew Columbina almost immediately noticed the sudden switch, whether or not it was from the partial blood bond or not. She noticed immediately, a hand returning to her shoulder.
“My love?” Something deeply buried within her emotion module crumbled upon hearing that name in such a soothing, concerned tone, an unusual wet sensation trailing down her cheeks because of it. This hadn't happened before. It was new, foreign, but it felt like something she had needed to do. Instinctively, she raised a hand to wipe what she assumed to be tears away, but Columbina beat her to it, frowning slightly. ‘Did I do something? I'm sorry.”
She didn't question that Sandrone was showing such emotion, didn't ridicule her, but rather stayed, thumbs gently wiping away tears as they fell.
“No—yes… I don't know.” Sandrone shook her head, pulling Columbina closer by the shirt, fingers curled tightly in the fabric. She wasn't stopped, rather, encouraged. A hand gently held her head as Sandrone sobbed into the woman's shoulder. “You're so annoying…”
“Care to explain why?” With a firm shake of her head, Columbina dropped the topic, slowly moving them both to the bed. If there was a reason, Sandrone would have said it. But there wasn't. Something deep within her felt like it was finally piecing itself back together after centuries. Columbina's fingers threaded through her hair.
“You chose me. You finally chose me.” Any semblance of self-restraint from speaking her mind had dissolved in Columbina's hold, that fog shifting into something like pure relief, something too real for someone made up of components and not DNA.
“I always chose you, Sandrone. There's was no need for anymore mark or permanent bond to see that.” Columbina mumbled, laying them both down. “You will feel better in the morning, my love. This fog and emotion is only temporary.” With a nod, Sandrone leaned further into Columbina's embrace, trying to stifle the sobs. She would feel better in the morning. Perhaps she would realise that there was no need for all of the fears she had held for so long in the morning. But for now, there was no need to worry too much about it, not when Columbina had chosen her, not when she had made it permanent.
Sandrone's fingers curled tighter into the pyjama shirt, trying to pull her closer, trying to make the suddenly overwhelming emotions to fade.
“Promise I will feel better tomorrow.” She choked out, failing to stifled another wave of sobs.
“I promise. This is just a side effect.” The urge to try eliminate already nonexistent space between them was painful. They weren't close enough, Columbina wasn't close enough. There was something new that pleaded for this embrace to never end. But it would, eventually, as much as she hated it. And with that realisation, her squirming halted temporarily, an attempt being made to steady her breathing. Rest was mandatory. Columbina had said so.
“Will you stay?”
Columbina kissed the top of her head, humming. “For however long you need.” Sandrone finally ceased her struggle against the system that was slowly going into rest due to her key being removed, fingers easing from their likely painfully tight grip on Columbina's shirt. Everything would feel better tomorrow. She would be able to think and function properly. And if not, Columbina would be there. That's what she said. Columbina always meant what she said.
Finally, with one last shaky breath, her consciousness slipped away under the reassurance that Columbina would be there, just as promised, just as always.