I’m not all that sure as to why I decided to come to this bar. It’s a supernatural spot, so at least I won’t be judged. Regardless, I’m exhausted. I know the bartender- a friend of mine, of sorts. His name’s Milo, a Vampire. We meet a few times a week, usually when I’m disposing of the bodies he’s drained. He persuaded me to come out, and have a drink or two. I’ve had more than two, some Werewolf is buying my drinks.

She’s about an inch taller than me, and just as muscular. Her hair is cut choppily, like she did it herself. She forward and friendly, doesn’t seem perturbed that I am so incredibly off-putting. I usually scare people off quickly, but she’s stuck around so far. I can hear her heartbeat, and it sounds louder than the rest of them. I can see her cause of death- early forties, late thirties; from a fight. I don’t tell her, only because she hasn’t asked and the little I know about social norms tells me that’s a bad idea.

That was six months ago now. It’s the longest I’ve kept a relationship, I think. I never quite agreed, she just decided that she liked me and that we should become something. She’s not insufferable, most of the time. I hadn’t realized how cold I was until she started coming to my place, leaving her sweaters, warming my bed. I find myself searching for it in a way I never have before when she isn’t there.

I’m reading a book in my living room when she bursts into my apartment, soaked to the bone. “Evening, Nox.” She says as she kicks off her winter boots and sheds her jacket. It’s soaked through the sweater she’s wearing, and she peels it off as she head for my bathroom. About twenty minutes later, she comes back out- now dressed in one of my sweaters and some boxers. She plops down onto the couch next to me, immediately getting in my space.

“Evening.” I return, pushing my glasses further up the bridge of my nose with my index finger. I turn to give her a look and grab my cup of tea, taking a sip. When I’m finished, she leans in and presses a kiss to my lips, then to the deep bite mark on my shoulder that needs wrapping. “Gods, I’m starving. You have anything to eat? Assuming you eat, of course.” She says, and my hand comes up to cover the bite. It’s a one-off- she was in heat and losing her mind.

“Yes, dipshit. Of course I have food.” I reply, and she springs up to check my fridge, where she finds tofu and vegetables. “Aw, c’mon! All you’ve got is tofu- I need some real calories!” She whines, and I rub my temples. God, she’s giving me another headache- a predicament I find myself in with her often. “Fine. Pizza work for you?” I ask, and she nods excitedly.

I order it, and we fool around until it’s gets here. She climbs excitedly off me at the sound of the doorbell, and past the delivery driver- while still in her bra. I rub my temples again, and cover myself with a blanket. I sit next to her after she scarfs down about half the pizza to herself. Jesus, the girl can eat. We move to my room and have sex, then crash. Despite my perpetual exhaustion, I can’t fall asleep. Instead, I comb her hair with my fingers, and listen to her sleep-talk about nonsense- little pieces on information.