Liam tells me a story much like the one the whore recited. It seems that Liam can draw, write and read, but his mathematical skills are atrocious. He was good at his father's business, but he couldn't check up on the order amounts or money, like his father expected him to. He allowed the bookkeeper to do the mathematical work, never checking on the finished result. He never saw the embezzlement of goods taking place right under his nose. In the end the bookkeeper, on the verge of being discovered, decided on a plan and pointed the finger at Liam. Liam unable to prove he didn't know, or couldn't check the books, was proclaimed the thief. His father fired his son in disgrace, destroying Liam's reputation and livelihood. After that, none wanted him as a son-in-law or employee. Liam couldn't change what people thought of him, so he lived down to their expectations. Especially his father`s. When he called his son a thief, a scoundrel, a whore, that's what Liam became. He lived down to the worst beliefs of his family. Since then, he'd been a broken man, looking for trouble, and in a way, death.

Later after more booze, he tells me of his sexual conquests. He lost his virginity at thirteen! Gods, I was 21 with Dru! I think he's had sex with every single, married and aged-spinster in the whole village. He laughs and weeps as he told me about his father catching him screwing their ex-cook.

I don't tell him about myself. I'm far too interested in listening to Liam. His voice is husky and so fascinating; I could listen to him talk forever. He holds none of Angelus harsh words or cruelty. He laughs openly and at the slightest thing. I share with him some twentieth century jokes, which have him in stitches. It's nearly dawn when we finally fall back on the bed, completely pissed and exhausted.

For the first time, I find myself staring openly at Liam's features. He lies back on the bed, facing me. His face is flushed with drink and laughter. His lip is bruised from his father's fists, but still warm and welcoming. He has the most captivating, smoky, brown eyes. Deep, wide and full of life. His brow is high and foreboding, with defined cheekbones, full lips, straight nose and strong chin. Together they make him uniquely beautiful. Angelic almost. I lean forward and breathe in Liam's manly scent. He smells musky and bloodied. I smell the cuts on his back and on his lip. The smell of blood and his skin is exotic, a delicious morsel asking for the taking. I lean forward and breathe him in. I tilt my head and brush his lips with my own.

Liam breathes quickly and I smell a sudden whiff of arousal. His breath caresses my lips, as I press them to his. Liam moans beneath me and parts his mouth a little, with a soft gasp. I lick at his lip, worrying his healing wound. Sweet blood coats the end of my tongue and I taste his sugary blood. He tastes so good, full of pain and alcohol. I push my lips against his more forcefully this time, parting them with my tongue and tasting inside. His mouth is sweet, wetly pleasant and alluring. I can't seem to get enough of his taste. Everything about him tastes so delightful. He's just one delicious offering.

I roll Liam on his back and kiss him. My body pressing against his side. My hand rests on his large chest, where I find hard nipples, which I flick playfully. I experience his whole mouth, tasting his teeth, his palette and encouraging his tongue to play with mine. When he finally responds, he groans deep in his chest, and his tongue probes into my mouth. We fight for dominance and suddenly, Liam pulls away from me gasping. I had completely forgotten he was human, and had to breathe. I lean forward and catch his mouth in another kiss. Our mouths touch and his tongue once again thrusts against mine. Suddenly, he pulls back, but I make another attempt to kiss him.

"No..." he murmurs as I force my tongue into his mouth. He retreats and looks up at me with a shocked expression. "I can't... you're a man... it's a sin... I..." Liam jumps off the bed and grabs his shirt. The pastels and charcoals are scattered across the floor. "I can't..." he hurriedly opens the door and runs out, leaving me aroused and panting on the bed.

What the hell am I doing!? I don't like men. What was I thinking? Kissing Liam? Oh god, my mind must have been twisted. The spell made me queer or something. I pick up the half bottle of whiskey and throw it against the wall. It smashes and glass is scattered across the floor, mixing with Liam`s artists' materials. I fall back against the bed, and sigh. What am I thinking? I've never been with a man before. Never! I never wanted to. Then all of a sudden I'm making out with the future Angelus? Have I lost my bloody marbles?

I feel tears sting my eyes, but I brush them away. I can't... I won't get upset about Liam refusing me! It was the drink, that's all. I look down and see a pastel near my bed. I pick it up and stare at it. Liam held this, in those large artists' hands of his. It's amazing how those big fingers could delicately move this across a sheet of paper. It's broken now, broken by his father's disappointment. I pull myself off the bed, and methodically start to pick up the all pastels and charcoals. Pieces of glass dig into my fingers, coating them with blood. Tears prick my eyes and I don't stop them. I don't know why.

~*~*~*~

The next day, I have one hell of a hangover. I manage to crawl out of bed around 6pm and kill the barmaid. I was far too hung over to go anywhere else, so I went back to bed. The night after that, I awakened feeling better and went out to do a little pick-pocketing. I was short of money... no, actually I had enough, but I needed to buy something. I managed to pick up a sovereign and went to a gentleman who sold canvas and paints. I don't know why, but I brought the whole range. Canvases, oils, watercolours, brushes, charcoal, pastels, fine paper, everything I thought Liam might need. The owner even helped me back to the tavern with my purchases. I dump them in my room, and sit on the bed staring at them all night.

What am I doing? Why this so important to me? Why does it hurt so much, when I remember his face when his father broke those pastels? Why? This isn't me; I don't care what a human feels. I just kill them, that is all I'm here to do. Just to kill Liam, make him Angelus and wait for my Dru to be born. Nothing more. I don't want there to be anything more! I don't want to fucking love him! Love him! Fuck! Where the hell did that thought spring from? Oh god, what is happening to me?

I haven't seen Liam all week. I haven't left this room since he ran out and I brought that stuff. I just stare at his artist materials and wonder what the hell I'm going to do with them. Give them to him like a present? I, the big bad giving beautiful, young men presents?

It's around 9pm when there is a knock at my door. I don't answer it, since I know I've already paid the innkeeper. The impatient knuckles rap again, and a soft voice is heard.

"Master Will?"

Liam? I jump up and open the door. Standing before me, is the dishevelled form of Liam. His hair is unkempt and his clothing dirty. At his feet is a small suitcase, brimming over with hurriedly packed belongings.

"Liam? What can I do for you?" I pull the door slightly closed so he can't see my gifts.

"I... I need a place to stay... I slept on the street last night and I... it was cold... I..." Liam looks at me with tear filled eyes, his dirty face is already streaked with them.

"You left home?" I inquire surprised.

"I was angry and I left, I said I'd not lack for a place to go, but I..." He trials off looking miserable. He won't go home. I know that. However, he's no where else to go. "I'll pay... I don't have any money... but yer can..." He swallows, and chokes out the rest, "You can have me."

"You offering me your body in payment," I clarify stunned.

Liam nods, but his eyes don't leave the floor.

"You would let me touch you, kiss you?" Liam is offering himself to me? I just can't get it in my head.

"Aye," he murmurs.

We stand in silence for many long minutes. I just can't figure this young man out. What would cause him to do this? Do I want him like that? Do I want to touch him, kiss him? I look at his young human face. His warm full lips, deep brown eyes and... yes! - I want him.

"Have you eaten?" I manage to ask. Liam shakes his head. I take his suitcase and put it inside my room. "First, we'll get you something to eat," I bid him. Liam nods and follows behind me, as I walk downstairs. I tell the new barmaid to bring some food for Liam, and we sit in a corner table. Liam doesn't meet my eyes, and when his potatoes and meat are brought in, he eats it silently.

"I am ready now," he tells me softly, when he`s finished his meal. He cleans his mouth with a handkerchief and waits for me to move.

Ready for what? I've been too busy watching his beautiful mouth open and close, to think of anything else. Watching his long throat muscles move as he swallows, amazes me. He has an exquisitely thick, corded neck, perfectly biteable. I've completely forgotten what he's here for. Then suddenly I remember he's expecting me to touch him - well, fuck him. He's very nervous, and truth is, I am too - desperately anxious. So bloody petrified in fact, I don't think I can stand at this moment. He must think I've done this before. I haven't! I haven't a clue about what I am supposed to do! I hide my shaking hands in my lap and we sit in silence.

"Why did you leave home?" I question him suddenly, trying to break the ice.

Liam looks up at me and there are fresh tears in his eyes. He waits a moment before talking, considering what he should tell me. "He caught me," he whispers in the end.

"That night when I err... left you, I went home and tried to seduce the maid. I just wanted... I wanted to feel something. Leaving you left me empty, and I... Well, he was furious and hit me. The next day, I came home drunk and tried to steal more of his silver and... he was waiting for me. I know it's wrong but... but, I don't know what else to do... He took my paints away, my easel, everything! He burned them. I have nothing... no, I am nothing!" Flesh tears fall from his dark eyes and he fidgets with his sleeve. I look down and notice flesh burn marks on his wrists. Rope burns.

"He beat you," I remark softly.

"I deserved it. He brought the local priest in and he said I needed the devil beaten out of me," he mumbles, ashamed of his abuse. He pulls at his sleeves, covering the marks. "I left the next day, I packed my stuff, said goodbye to... to Kathy and left. I've been staying with Mary, but her husband came home and found me... and... I don't have anywhere to go... I can't... I can't go home," he sobs.

I shiver at the thought of him being beaten again. I think his father really believes he's trying to help his son. Trying to save him from himself. Liam is a free spirit though. To tie him down to a merchants job would kill him. To tie him to family life would do the same. I never knew this about Angelus. I never dreamed he would be wild and free like Liam is. Gods, he's making me hard. I love his fire, his stubbornness, and his lust for life. A lust that has been tainted by his cruel father. I can hear his blood pounding in his veins like a drum, it's so loud and calls out to me. Liam is full of life, spirit, virility and I want it all.

"You don't have to go home," I leer seductively. I lean across the table and lick his cheek, faster than any human could. Liam shivers with my quick touch, and his eyes flutter closed for a moment. I stand up and take his hand. The place is full of people, talking and laughing, but I don't see anyone but him. Beautiful, breathing Liam, well, soon to be dead, un-breathing Liam. I smile as he rises to his feet.

"I fear that smile," he whispers back. Liam's clever too. He knows I'm planning something.

I walk out of the bar, and up the narrow staircase. Behind me, Liam follows and I almost feel dizzy with my nervousness. I just have to get control over myself. I am the big bad, an evil murdering vampire. Nothing scares me... but... well, almost nothing. Apart from the thought of touching the heavenly creature walking behind me. My hand trembles as I open my bedroom door and I pull him inside. I light one candle and put it beside the bed. The soft light creates shadows across his face. I can still see his eyes, they shine in the light, the dark brown filled with fire.

"You would do anything?" I ask enticingly, "You would strip for me?"

Liam shudders and gasps softly at my words. He doesn't speak, as I sit on the bed watching, and he starts to undress. A part of my brain is screaming at me not to do this. Not to take him as payment for a room. I just can't stop. I think about him and I can't... won't stop. He's partly naked, only his breaches remain, when I stand and stop his hand.

"Would you whore yourself to me?" I ask, staring into dark, stormy eyes.

"Aye."

I grab his hair in one hand, and standing on tiptoe, I ravage his mouth. I kiss, tongue and nip at his mouth, making him gasp for breath. He doesn't pull away this time, and let's me continue. He's serious about his offer. I could take him, bonk him all night, and he won't stop me. I pull away from his lips and grin. Hey, I'm evil. There's no way I'm going to say no to a willing body. I know he's male and stuff... but I want him. I can't stop thinking about him. If I have him, them maybe I can go back to hating him. I fuck him, turn him, then say goodbye and good riddance. Yes, bad sex will make me stop loving him. I can't see how two men can ever have good intercourse, so my plan is fucking perfect.

I release his mouth, and run my fingers down his back. Liam gasps in pain and I move away. Slowly, I walk around him and stare at the lashes on his back. New lash marks override the old ones. These look to be done by a wooden cane. My fingers touch the healing wounds, and Liam groans again.

"Strip," I command him. He unlaces his breaches and pushes them from lithe hips. He kicks them off, and stands in all his full, naked glory before me. I walk around him and stare at his half-erect cock. He's very well endowed, with 10 inches of penis, which is thick and straight. Large balls hang between his legs, and I just can't control myself, so I touch him gently. My cool hand runs up the underbelly of his cock, nothing more. Liam groans and I swear he gets a little harder. I move around the back and stare at his buttocks. The cane marks travel down his back, into the small and across his cheeks. Red welts and blood marks his toned, perfect skin.

I stand behind him and lick roughly at one of the marks. The slight taste of his blood fills my mouth, and I move on to the next, then the next. I haven't a clue what I'm going. I just continue licking down his body. My tongue cleaning, worrying and lapping away the flesh blood. Liam's flesh quivers, and trembles under my touch. His body hitches with soft moans and a few sobs. I can smell his fear, his disgust. Overlapping that smell, however, is the sweet scent of his full arousal.

Never! Never, will I understand what happened in this room. Even if I live to be a thousand will I ever comprehend how I felt then. And why I did what I did. Just touching that smooth, firm skin made me so hard, I believe I could have broken stone with it. My breaches are stretched up so much, trying to contain my rampant erection, that the rough material hurt the sensitive cock head. When I reach Liam's buttocks, I knelt behind him, and lapped at the redden welts. I hear his terrified little gasps and sobs, but I can't stop. I can't stop touching him. His body is screaming for me to take him, even if his mind rebels against it. But it isn't my brain that wants to shag him; it's every other part of me. My hands, my legs, my cock, my heart are screaming to touch him. Take him.

"My slut!" I murmur, as I press my face into his firm buttocks. Another soft sob arises from his chest, but I don't take any notice of it. My fingers part his hard cheeks and I stare at the small anal opening. I have come from the twentieth century, so with all the sexual openness I know how men have intercourse. Still, his anus looks so tiny and I have to wonder how I will fit in? Oh, and I just remembered another problem - lubricant.

I stand up, reluctantly breaking contact with his luscious body and lean up, whispering into his ear: "Clean off the sideboard and lean over it."

*****
Part 4:

Tear filled eyes turn to mine, but Liam nods and does as I say. He removes the water basin, resting it on the floor and leans over the end of the sideboard. His body`s weight is pressed against the wood, and his ass sticks up in the air before me. I strip off my clothing quickly, and Liam swiftly closes his eyes in shame at the thought of looking at another man. I don't really care. I just do this and I'll forget Liam, forever. I'll be amazed if I even come.

I can't find a lubricant, so I've decided to use my own blood. Liam has his eyes closed so I doubt he'll see it. I bite into my long index finger and press the bleeding digit to his hole. With my other hand, I part his cheeks and work my finger inside.

"Ohh!" he yells, with sudden surprise and fear. I look down at his face and he bites his lip trying to keep silent.

He's so damn tight in here. Warm, tight, and soft. I didn't expect that. I press deeper and push past the outer muscles. Inside, he's so bloody hot, and feels so different to a woman's slick channel. I just have to press another finger in and have a feel around. Liam moans are louder and not all of them are from pain. His tiny hole expands around my fingers, letting me inside, as I caress the soft inner tissue. After a minute or so the muscles start to contract around my fingers and Liam starts gasping. I look down and I can see his hard length, fully erect and pressing up onto the hard wood. He tries to rock a little on my fingers, pushing his cock into the sideboard as he attempts to get a little friction.

I've decided I've had enough of fingering him. Now I want to experience that hot, manly passage around my cock. Liam still has his eyes closed, so I slit my wrist with a sharp fang, coat my erection and press myself to his body. I hold my now slick rod in my hand and guide it into his tiny anus. He gives a soft sob as my cock head opens him up wide. It's slow going, but once I've got the crown inside, the rest of me forces him open.

"Fuck!" I cry as the tight muscles grip me harshly. I can feel him tensing up, and I'm effin' stuck! I almost shout at him, but I don`t... I couldn`t stand him getting any tighter. My throbbing cock starts to hurt, so I lean over, pressing my chest to his back and gently start kissing his neck.

"Liam, open yourself to me, my little whore." He groans, and sobs at my words. "You're so fucking tight, my virgin. My beautiful boy." I don't know why I say what I did. Words of cruelty and kindness, all mixed into one. It's just so hard to bloody think when your cock is being gripped by powerful male anal muscles.

"My beautiful tight slut, my boy, my angelic lover..." I murmur nonsense into his ear, but it seems to be working. Liam's muscles start to relax and I press in deeper. "Damn, so fucking tight, Liam! Can you feel how tight you are, how fiercely you grip my cock?" I can't believe that I start to pant, to breathe with him. I'm encased so deep inside his warm, taut ass and it`s bloody perfect. His blood slick channel throbs around me, gripping and releasing my hard length. "Your ass is so tight, so beautiful. I am your only lover, Liam. This tight little ass is mine, forever!" I lick his ear and give him a harsh thrust. Words just fly from my mouth, without thought and consideration. I have no idea where they are coming from, but just by being inside him, I feel as though he's mine, totally, body and soul.

"Yes," he groans, as I start a deep, powerful rhythm. With his acceptance, I can't hold myself back. That one word and I've totally lost it. I thrust in hard, then pull my cock all the way out before slamming back in again. Liam grips the sideboard with desperate fingers, his nails marking the wood. His cock is being slammed into the side panel with painful force. I can't stop, I just let the demon, and the sexual need take over me. I lose myself in his body, his smell, and his feel. I pound into that tight hole, until it feels as if the whole world starts and ends there.

Suddenly, I smell flesh blood from his constricted channel and my thrusts become frenzied. I know I'm tearing him. He cries, yelling in pain and passion. My words vanish and I snarl, my vampire face coming forth, fangs dripping with saliva, just waiting to bury themselves into his warm throat. His body trembles and shivers as my thrusts slightly change angle.

"Yes!" he screams and his hips thrust back crashing against mine. I smell his sudden ejection, and his warm semen covers the hard wooden sideboard. The smell and knowledge that he's come, completely does my head in. I pound desperately into his throbbing ass, making him scream. When I feel myself coming, I dive at his thick neck, and sink my fangs into his vein. My cold jism floods his thoroughly fucked passage and drips down his legs. His warm heavenly blood fills my mouth, and I just swallow and *swallow* him down. I want to eat him all. Taste him. Have him.

"Will," Liam groans, as his body weakens, and he collapses against the wall. In a panic, I rip my fangs from his throat, and my softened cock slips from his raw anus. "Will," he moans again. I know I've taken a bit too much blood, but I just couldn't stop myself. To my shock, and horror, he felt just too good for me to even attempt to stop. I wanted to fuck him... to feed from him, forever. It is an absolute surprise that I orgasmed so energetically from taking him. That he felt the way he did. A male, the same sex, really did it for me, more than anyone else did. I wanted to continue for all time, encased in his tight anal channel.

I fall away from Liam's body and sit stunned on the bed. No! This can't be right. It can't! I love women. I love Dru. I love their soft feminine curves, breasts, flared hips and slick passages. How could I get off with a man? His strong, hard body, smooth, wide flat chest, and hard, little brown nipples. The robust build, his solid stomach muscles, those beautifully formed abs, that long perfect cock, round, softly haired balls, firm buttocks, damn fine cheeks that redden as I pound into his tight - oh, so tight - hole. Oh god! Blast in hell! No!

No. I refuse to accept it. I refuse to believe he's turning me on just by thinking about his form. I look down however, and there is the bloody proof. My cock is rock hard and dripping pre-cum. I don't believe it! I sigh and bury my head in my hands.

I can hear Liam starting to regain consciousness, and lift himself off the sideboard. I've drained him a little too much, and he collapses onto the floor with a thud. I look down and stare at his tear streaked face. I feel a sudden pang of guilt, because I used him like a whore. Guilt, because I want more. I just can't let him go. I should tell him to leave, go home, and make peace with his bloody father, anything but stay here. If he does, I just know by the end of the day, that I'll be fucking him again. And I don't want to! I don't want to have his gorgeous, male body under mine. Never again! I like women! Okay! Always have, always will. That's the last time I ever do this. Ever!

I look over at Liam and he's curled himself up, with head on his knees, sobbing away. Oh, shit! I stand up and pull back the covers to my bed.

"Liam, get in the bed!" I shout at him. He shakes his head and doesn't move. "You've just fucking paid for it, now get in!" I don't know why I hurt him like I do. Why I use such cruel and heartless words. But I can't comfort him, because I know it will just end up with me kissing him again. I can't do that! I can't ever touch him again. Liam carefully gets to his feet, and slowly limps over to the bed. As he passes me, I spot the blood and cum leaking from his torn anus. More feelings of remorse pass through me, but I don't do anything. I just watch as Liam lies in the feather bed, turning his body away from me, and resting his head on the soft pillow. I climb in next to him, and he stiffens.

"You were cold," he murmurs sleepily.

"You have warmed me," I whisper back. His human blood thunders through my body, warming my dead veins. As I settle near to him, his blood fills my nostrils and it's all I can smell. Strong internal blood. I sigh; I'm never going to sleep with that. I know what I have to do to rid him of this smell, this heavenly scent of his blood.

"What?" Liam yelps as I manhandle him, turning him on his front. His body trembles, so I massage his clenched back muscles.

"Shhh," I hiss into his ear. I move down his body, where that strong blood smell is coming from. That tight, slightly torn, little hole that so pleasured my cock. I lean down and lick over his tasty anus. I can taste my own blood and cum, and under that, Liam's sweet flavour. For some reason, beyond my comprehension, I can't get enough of this young, male, Irish mortal. I can't taste enough of his sweet, sugary blood. I press my tongue to his opening, and proceed to lick him clean. I tend the tiny tears, then push my tongue deeper inside.

"Will!" Liam whimpers, rocking his hips back into my face. I push my tongue past his outer ring of muscle and taste more of his blood and essence. My hands pull him up on his hands and knees, then slip around to grasp his hard length. I pump him as best I can, and he gasps, groans and then yells his release. Finally, as he softens, I pull away from his now clean hole and fall back beside him. I groan and cover my eyes with my arm. I can feel Liam staring at me, still in his kneeling position.

"Liam, go to sleep!" I snarl at him, turning on my side facing away from his questioning eyes.. I hear him lie down, heaving a large, confused sigh.

What the hell have I done!? What am I doing? I promised myself I wouldn't touch him again, but I kept that promise for what - five bloody seconds?! Fuck, I disgust myself. Trying this effin' time spell was one of the most brainless plans I've ever had. I'll kill that Willow, in two and fifty year's time!

~*~*~*~

It must have been late afternoon when I finally opened my eyes. At first I couldn't understand why I wasn't alone in bed, and then with shocking clarity, it all returned to me. Liam appearing on my doorstep and offering me his angelic body. Being my whore for a place to stay and a good meal. I rubbed my tired eyes and turned around.

Liam was awake and staring at my pile of artist's materials stacked in the corner. He didn't see it last night; he was too busy being fucked. He hasn't dressed, but has the sheet covering his private parts. He doesn't even notice me awaken, and contemplate him. He just gawks at the easel and paints.

"You like?" I ask with a grin.

"Huh?" Liam jumps a little at the unexpected sound of my voice, but then turns to look at me, a light blush on his cheeks. "I didn't know yer were an artist."

"I'm not. It's for you." I roll over and climb out of the bed; I snatch up my breaches and pull them on.

"For me? Why?"

"Because you've lost your own," I answer casually. Never mind the fact that I bought them before I knew his father had destroyed the others. I pick up a sheet of clean white paper, and lay it over the easel, then grab the new charcoals. There is something I want and the truth is, I'm afraid to ask him. I walk back to the bed, and hand him the equipment, then position myself on the edge next to him.

"I want you to draw me," I ask nervously, "Err... you do draw portraits?"

"Aye, I can draw anything I can see," he answers assertively.

He takes up the materials and lays the flat easel over his lap. I watch with interest, as he prepares his artist tools, and then scrutinizes my face. At this moment, I am so relieved it's impossible for me to blush. His glazes at me so directly, as if he's mapping out every square inch of my face. Very slowly he picks up a charcoal and starts to scratch away on the paper. I watch his hand, and the marks he positions so carefully, but my eyes can see no pattern in his arrangement. They just look like smudges on the paper - black marks in a sea of white, nothing more.

Liam is held spellbound by his sketching. His full concentration is on the paper and my face. His eyes flick between paper and skin, directing the movement of his hand. I give up trying to work out Liam's composition and just study his face. His eyes are so full of intelligence, devilment and deviousness, but now shining with intense concentration and beauty. He chews his bottom lip, without realising, as he plots the smudges onto the paper. His brow furrows, as his eyes narrow in on one point of my face, and then he transfers what he sees to the medium before him.

I've lost track of all time; I just watch his face and his every movement. We must have sat there for hours, because I can hear his stomach start to rumble. He's totally oblivious to it, however, and just continues to sketch. Suddenly, his hand stills and he gives the portrait a once over. Then, with a shy look, hands the finished article over to me. I gaze stupefied at his work. The smudges, marks and lines of charcoal have been transformed into me. It's a picture of me! My face and part of my bare chest. Me! I haven't seen myself in nearly 150 years. I look... wow... it's me.

"It's me..." I whisper.

"Ye sound surprised," Liam comments, watching my reaction to his portrait with keen interest. "Ye are an artist's dream. The fine cheekbones, defined bright blue eyes, pale skin..." Liam trails off and I look up to see his face flushed red.

"You would not believe how long its been since I've seen myself," I tell him truthfully.

"Ye are very handsome," he whispers. That red blush seems to be travelling further down his body.

I lean over, with a sudden urge, and kiss warmed lips. Liam makes a soft moaning sound, but he doesn't pull away. The kiss is light and quick, more from gratitude than desire. When I pull away, however, there is a definite sign of his desire. The sheet covering his lap is undoubtedly more tented than before. Liam dips his head suddenly, and looks at me under shy lashes. I can't help but stroke my finger down his face. So warm, so red, and so mine.

Mine? I jump away from him, instantly grabbing my shirt. I have got to stop thinking about him like that, gods, anyone would think I love him. Just to make this clear - I don't! No! I don't love Liam. Nope, no way! Right!

"Uhm... you want to join me for dinner?" I ask, remembering his rumbling stomach. I hate how I say it, because it sounds like I want to be with him. That I want to sit, eat and talk with him. I look over at Liam, but he's afraid and hesitates. "Look, you can stay tonight; the portrait was your payment, Okay?"

Liam nods, accepting my offer and starts to dress. Wow! He's so big, tall and burly. I turn away quickly, taking my mind off his features. Meanwhile, my cock has a complete mind of its own and is instantly erect with the thought of Liam's naked body.

Not much later, we sit in the crowed tavern, me drinking more of that disgusting ale while Liam tucks into his potato and meat dinner. Tonight, he's more relaxed and while he eats, we talk. Mainly about casual things like the weather, the wars, and the politics. When I mention his family, Liam goes silent. That changes when I mention his sister, Kathy.

For Kathy, Liam's eyes brighten and he unconsciously smiles. He narrates how she arrived from an unexpected pregnancy, his mother being considered far to old to bear children. She was 12 years younger than he is, and his father had wanted her to be a boy to replace his useless son. In the end, he was terribly disappointed and Liam gained an unwanted sister. His father took little interest in the girl and Liam had spent most of his younger years looking after her. Protecting her from his father's beating. When he became 23, after his disgrace, his father despised both children even more and Liam's beatings became even more desperate. His father hated his attitude and his desires to draw and paint, and saw only evil in the love the two siblings shared. The love of a father and daughter, because that is what Liam became to Kathy. The only parent she ever knew.

Liam believed himself to be worthless, tainted and beyond redemption. So much so that he sold his own body for a bed to sleep in. He'd prostituted himself because he believed there was nothing in the world for him. When asking if Liam could have married, he laughed and replied: that he would have nothing to offer any girl. He was a disgrace to his family, a failure and had an iniquitous reputation. His father had given him prejudiced proof of his insignificance and valueless existence. Liam has absorbed every word. He'd never thought of even selling his services as a painter, or doing portraits. No, his father has informed him it is a trivial and worthless attribute. I have never encountered such a man as Liam. One so destroyed and degraded by his Father. His confidence and self-worth are non-existent. His father told him he's nothing and Liam believes him.

I reconsider my memories of Angelus, that his evil deeds might have been a way to prove he was at least skilled at something. Even if it was killing, torture, and mayhem. I understand maybe that that is where some off Angelus` pain arises from and his denial of all feeling. Why he never loved; he killed the only person he ever cared for - Kathy. After that there was no one else, no one who touched his heart like she did.

"I suppose I will have to go home, I'm out of money and no one would be willing to employ me," Liam is saying.

*****