He supposed that while he may have been changed around a decade ago, that the actual time he was able to be...civil... was perhaps less than that. When he'd been bitten, something had gone horrifically wrong...the pain had been far, far worse than was per usual for a change. Also, it hadn't stopped. It had gone on, and on, and on...excruciating, worse than anything he'd ever felt. At times it had felt like his every bone was being crushed; at others, that there was something within him eating him from the inside out. His dominus had been apprehensive at first, and then had finally decided that the change had gone wrong and that Erich was dying. The other had departed, leaving him alone in his suffering...and suffer, he had. The pain had lasted weeks, enough to break a weaker person's mind and drive them to insanity. Erich had held on, though--his job had taught him to escape to the safe harbor of your mind when in situations like this. He'd been captured once on enemy territory when he'd been human...the torture he'd been put through had been horrendous, though no where near what he'd felt with the change. Even so, the only reason he'd lived through the encounter was his ability to take the pain. When the pain had finally ceased...he'd been absolutely feral, ravenous for blood and uncaring of who he took to get it. Somehow, he had managed to maintain enough control to get out of he city before the beast had taken over completely. The following years were spent as an incoherent animal, focused only on feeding.
"Adolescence...that is probably a more...accurate...term, yes. It took a long time for me to...change...and took many years for me to claim control." He had decided that even if all control had been ripped from him the moment he'd been bitten, there was no reason he should be a savage for all of eternity. He still didn't know how he'd won the fight against the monster within him. It had been one of the more difficult things he'd ever done, especially with no education on the matter.
He noticed the hint of sorrow in her voice, and was sorry for it. It had to have been hard for her, to form relationships and become close to non-immortal entities, only to watch them wither and pass with age. It had not been something he'd considered. "My condolences, Sabrina." He told her, that silky smooth voice of his lowered just a decibel. "I never considered that scenario before. Perhaps it's a good thing that most of what I knew I didn't care for...and I didn't have anything I can say I loved." Never once had Erich had anyone to love, be it a parent, a relative, anyone. By the time he'd become an adult, he'd been emotionally stunted in that way--he honestly did not believe he'd be able to love anyone, ever. Cammie had been his friend, and he supposed he'd cared for her in his own way...but love? It was foreign to him.
Erich had experienced much of the same problem when selecting bed partners, even as a human. He had always been a rough lover, a violent lover...and though he'd always tried to maintain control, he lost it more often than not. Most women had found that quality scary, and he was lucky to have the same partner two nights in row once his nature had been discovered. American women had been especially fearful of him...and eventually he'd given up on 'scratching the itch', resigning himself to wait until the mission was over.
The electricity in the air was positively turbulent...he felt as if he were breathing, tasting it,drowning in it. It was not an unpleasant sensation, and he thought that if one were to drown, this would be he way to do it. The beast within snarled and begged, stirred to a nearly frantic level by the flow of electricity. Her nails on the cool, lifeless flesh of his wrist was enough to tighten his grip just slightly, the only indication of just how close she'd come to pushing him off the edge of no control. It wouldn't take much, not with her...he was entirely aware of that fact now. To have a woman consume him so thoroughly, so completely...it truly was a mystifying thing. "My government preferred the sound of Reitz I suppose. I was a spy, in life. Sent to investigate the supernatural. Ironic, no?"
His hands, so gentle on her flesh, had ended many many in life and beyond. Yet there was a balance in the large blond, a restraint that was uncanny for a male of his magnitude. He could restrain himself...it just wasn't a likely thing between the sheets. When he was more...coherent...he could cater to a woman's appreciation for a tender touch. Clearly enchanted with the artwork, he let those roughened fingertips trail down the length of her extended arm, savoring the feel of the silken flesh beneath his touch. He did not have tattoos himself...though he had thought about it from time to time. Scars littered his back from the round of torture he'd received, and he wouldn't object to covering them. "The work is very good." He let his fingers rest on the lotus, his pale gaze lifting to hers. "And the canvas? It is beautiful." As intimidating as his attraction to her was, at this proximity, it was nearly impossible to fight the urge to touch, to explore.
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The scars inside don't heal
The pain no more can I feel
I'm callous, alone, but unafraid
For better or worse I've changed
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