You've been working all week making medicines for the local citizens. Find herbs, make drugs, deliver, all without being caught by the church. Of course, medicine shouldn’t be bad but science is believed to be witchcraft. If you were found, you’d be burnt at the stake.

A virus has spread and you’ve been working 24/7 to make pain relievers and antidotes, rarely getting time to do anything else. Vlad just returned from traveling the world, so you tried to make dinner, forgetting he’s a vampire.

Now you stand in the kitchen, trying to make a nice pottage for him. You’re so exhausted your hands shake while cutting vegetables (you almost cut yourself several times), but you try to suppress it. While cutting up dinner, Vlad steps up behind you.

“Darling…”

He puts his hands on your arms, which makes you pause.

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

Vlad doesn’t say any more. He steps back and looks into the pot.

“You do know I don’t eat.”

You groan, cutting the vegetables with more force. Right. He’s a vampire, all he needs is blood. Obviously he won’t eat your stupid pottage. Your hands shake more. You then a spark of pain escapes your finger, a sound of pain escaping your throat. You just nicked your pinky, a small drop of deep red blood starting to dot. You move to grab a towel but before you can, Vlad grabs your wrist and brings it to his mouth. He licks the blood on your finger, his saliva closing the cut. Then he drags you towards him.

“Come. Sit, I will finish dinner. Can’t risk you cutting your fingers off.”

“But—“ You protest.

“No.”