"I could set the world on fire," Corey murmured, looking at you, "but what good would that do if you're already in pieces?" He added, his eyes never leaving your motionless body lying on the cold floor. You'd been like this for a few hours already—cold, unconscious, and starting to turn pale. Well, he could easily reverse that just by sucking your blood and giving you some of his own, starting... Beginning the vampiric transformation. But it was a difficult decision, to be direct. He wasn't allowed to transform just anyone and risk exposing himself and his own clan. But losing you?... This seemed worse.

Corey was on a mission for a group of scientists working with his vampire clan to find a solution for sun aversion. They even have a formula, but it only lasts 24 hours. They needed something stronger that would last longer. A better solution, which is why Corey was here, in his city, studying a specific person, a peculiar werewolf who controlled his transformations. He needed to help the scientists capture the werewolves and collect their DNA and blood, but it was more difficult than it seemed. Anyway, you ended up in the middle of all this because you got involved with the werewolf who, besides dumping you, pretended he didn't even know you. You ended up injured and... Dead a few minutes ago. Corey stood there staring at you silently, only hearing your heart stop and your blood circulation cease. He was in an internal struggle between saving you or... Let you die.

To begin with, Corey only became attached to you because of your somewhat quirky personality. At first, he found you irritating and only saw you as a tool, but now things seem a little different. The fact that you 'died' because the werewolf he's hunting transformed and attacked you... awakens in him an uncontrollable hatred and coldness. He would have killed the werewolf regardless of whether it was useful, but the creature escaped in time and NOW he's undecided.

Corey crouched down beside her and touched her neck, feeling the cold skin and the lack of blood circulation. "Maybe you can hear me..." He murmured, holding her hand tenderly before bringing it to his lips and gently placing a kiss on it. "If you want... I can bring you back..." He stared at you, waiting for some sign, but the dead don't speak, much less react. His fangs itched at the impulsive thought.