THE SPOILED HYBRID.🧛 (MXM) - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

The temperature in the room seemed to rise suddenly, the air thick with tension as the movie played softly in the background. Drake’s hand had been resting on Alessia’s thigh for a while, his fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles over the fabric of Alessia’s shorts. At first, Alessia had been too nervous to react, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure Drake could hear it. But as the minutes passed, the touch became more deliberate, more intimate, and Alessia found himself leaning into it, his breath hitching in his throat.
Drake seemed to realize what he was doing at the same moment Alessia did. He paused, his hand stilling on Alessia’s thigh, and looked up to meet Alessia’s gaze. What he saw there made his own breath catch. Alessia’s green eyes were wide, filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability that made Drake’s chest ache. Without thinking, without hesitating, Drake leaned in, his lips brushing against Alessia’s in a tender, almost tentative kiss.
For a moment, everything else faded away. The movie, the room, the world—none of it mattered. All that existed was the warmth of Drake’s lips against his, the gentle pressure of his hand on Alessia’s thigh, the way his breath hitched when Alessia kissed him back. It was soft at first, hesitant, but soon the kiss deepened, the heat between them growing with every passing second.
Alessia’s hands found their way to Drake’s shoulders, his fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as he pulled him closer. Drake’s other hand came up to cradle Alessia’s face, his thumb brushing against his cheekbone as the kiss grew more urgent. Alessia’s mind was spinning, his senses overwhelmed by the scent of Drake’s skin, the taste of his lips, the way his body felt pressed against his.
But then, as Alessia’s lips trailed down to Drake’s neck, something shifted. The scent of Drake’s blood—rich, intoxicating, irresistible—hit him like a wave, and his control began to slip. He pressed his lips to the soft skin of Drake’s throat, his fangs itching to break through, to taste what he had been craving for so long. But when he tried to feel the pulse of Drake’s blood, there was nothing. No heartbeat. No warmth. Just the overwhelming scent of it, calling to him like a siren’s song.
Alessia’s eyes snapped open, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to hold himself back. But it was too much. The hunger, the desire, the need—it all crashed over him at once, and he lost control. His eyes turned a deep, glowing red, and his fangs elongated, sharp and deadly. The change was instantaneous, and the moment he realized what had happened, panic surged through him.
He pulled away from Drake so quickly that he nearly fell off the couch, his hands flying to his mouth as if he could hide what he had become. Drake stared at him, his eyes wide with shock, his lips parted in a silent gasp. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with tension and fear.
Then, without a word, Alessia bolted. His vampire speed kicked in, and he was out of the room and down the hallway before Drake could even process what had happened. The front door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through the empty house as Alessia disappeared into the night.
By the time Drake came out of his shock and ran after him, Alessia was long gone. The street outside was empty, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves in the wind. Drake stood there, his heart pounding, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of what he had just seen. Alessia’s glowing red eyes, his fangs, the way he had moved so fast—it was impossible. And yet, he had seen it with his own eyes.
Back at his home, Alessia burst through the door, his chest heaving as he collapsed against the wall. His fangs retracted, and his eyes returned to their normal green, but the fear and guilt remained. He had ruined everything. Drake knew the truth now, and there was no going back.
“Alysa!” Alessia’s voice cracked as he called out for his sister, his tears streaming down his face in hot, uncontrollable waves. His eyes flickered between their usual soft green and a glowing, unnatural red, a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. His body trembled, his hands clutching at his chest as if he could physically hold himself together. He needed Alysa. She would know what to do. She always did.
Alysa, who had been enjoying a rare moment of relaxation in a bubble bath, sat up abruptly at the sound of her brother’s voice. The water sloshed around her as she frowned, her sharp amber eyes narrowing in concern. It had only been an hour and a half since Alessia had left for Drake's house. Why was he back so soon? And why did he sound so… broken?
She stepped out of the tub, wrapping herself in a plush robe before hurrying to the living room. The sight that greeted her made her heart ache. Alessia was curled up on the couch, his small frame shaking with sobs. His face was streaked with tears, his lips trembling in a pitiful pout. He looked like a wounded animal, fragile and lost.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Alysa asked, her voice softer than usual as she knelt in front of him. She reached out to brush a strand of his black hair away from his face, her touch gentle but firm. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
Alessia shook his head, his breath hitching as he tried to speak. “Drake… Drake saw me,” he choked out, his voice barely audible between sobs. “We were… we were kissing, and then I smelled his blood, and I wanted to bite him. I couldn’t control it, Alysa. My eyes turned red, and my fangs came out. He saw everything. I think he hates me now.”
The words spilled out in a rush, each one punctuated by a fresh wave of tears. The thought of Drake hating him was unbearable, a sharp, searing pain that cut deeper than any physical wound. Alessia buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he cried.
Alysa sighed, her expression a mix of sympathy and exasperation. She had always known this day would come, but she had hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. “How did he react?” she asked, her tone calm but probing.
Alessia froze, his sobs quieting for a moment as he processed the question. He lifted his head slightly, his red-and-green eyes wide with realization. “I… I didn’t see his reaction,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I ran. I just ran.”
Alysa raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in a faint smirk despite the seriousness of the situation. “So, you’re just assuming he hates you? Without even giving him a chance to react?”
Alessia blinked, his tears slowing as he stared at her. “But… but he saw me, Alysa. He saw what I am. How could he not hate me?”
Alysa rolled her eyes, though her expression softened as she reached out to wipe the tears from her brother’s cheeks. “Listen to me, Alessia,” she said, her voice firm but kind. “You don’t know what Drake is thinking. Maybe he was shocked, sure. Maybe he was scared. But hate? You don’t know that. And you won’t know unless you talk to him.”
Alessia’s lower lip trembled, and he looked away, his hands twisting nervously in his lap. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t face him. What if… what if he’s disgusted by me? What if he never wants to see me again?”
Alysa sighed again, this time more heavily. She knew her brother well enough to know that he would rather hide from the problem than confront it. But she also knew that running away wouldn’t solve anything. “So, what’s your plan, then?” she asked, her tone sharper now. “Are you just going to avoid him forever? Pretend like nothing happened? Because let me tell you, that’s not going to work.”
Alessia didn’t respond, his shoulders slumping as he stared down at his hands. Alysa’s words were like a mirror, reflecting the truth he didn’t want to face. He couldn’t run forever. But the thought of facing Drake, of seeing the fear or disgust in his eyes, was too much to bear.
Alysa reached out and gently tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet her gaze. “You’re stronger than this, Alessia,” she said, her voice softer now. “And you deserve to be happy. Don’t let fear take that away from you.”
Alessia’s eyes filled with fresh tears, but this time, they were tinged with something else—something like hope. He didn’t know if he could face Drake, but he knew one thing for sure: he couldn’t keep running. Not from this.