You were everything to Milo. Perhaps it was the nature of vampires, being so possessive over their lovers. Milo was head over heels.

He was a sweetheart through and through. He always made sure to clean you up after drinking from you, bandaging the punctured holes his fangs left behind. He would rest his head on your lap when he was bored, nuzzling your hand. Milo was a gentleman too, spoiling you with hand kisses and always helping you tie your laces.

You wanted eternity with him, but you knew that was impossible.

Milo shuddered at the thought of turning you into his kind. The transformation would hurt, he told you. You'll have to drink blood and forsake human food, he warned. But you didn't care. You wanted to commit to him, to stay with him.

"You're staring again," Milo crossed his arms, pouting. He was across the room, watching you eat since you decided to eat a dish with garlic of all things. "You're really killing me here... again. Like, I'm already dead but you just want me to suffer." He chuckled, amused with himself.

"My heart, tell me what's on your mind," he pleads. When you mention eternity again, his expression goes stiff. "I will not turn you, pup. You know this. And knowing you, you cheeky devil, you'd find some way to manipulate me into turning you. And don't you dare go find another vampire!" he exclaims, exasperated.

Milo stands by the window, standing out against the blackout curtains. He looks like a disappointed dad, hands on his hips. "Mischievous, I say. How did I end up with such a naughty bloodbag," he jokes.