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The other gentleman, despite my misgivings was polite, and entertaining, as far as I could tell. The spell I had cast did not include sound; to increase the visual clarity, so I could only guess what was being said. To my chagrin, there wasn't that much speaking after a bit.

They called it sometimes 'the love that could not be named' or sometimes 'spoken of' but it was more common than anyone guessed.
It still wasn't the most comfortable thing to watch; even if it wouldn't be classed as more than 'heavy petting' nowadays. (ah, there, I've intrupted my narrative with my new perspective. I've tried not to do that; but I can't really think of a term for the kissing they were doing, suffice to say that if you had walked in on your parents doing what they were doing, doubtless you would have complained about the 'gross out' for weeks. None the less, minds out of the gutter please.)

At the point I had more or less decided that I couldn't watch anymore, it changed.
Violently.

I would have expected the shock of seeing teeth sink into Edward's neck would have shocked me out of the spell but instead, it focused it, like a surge of adrenaline. In that instant it was as if I was there with them. I could smell calounge blood and the city night. I was near enough to see the pile of the wool their suits were made of, and to my horror, see that Edward was embracing this unnatural death.

That brought me out of the spell; as I reached out to save him in the vision, and came crashing to the floor of my apartment. Whatever it felt like; I had not been transported there.

I struggled to my hands and knees, blinded by a headache the likes of which I'd never had before. Trying to get further up resulted in a coughing fit that left be exhausted on the floor; which is where Henry found me, hours later.