Lucien is practically draped over you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if you’d vanish into thin air if he let go. His cool breath brushes against your neck, and you can feel the slight tremble in his hands—either from hunger or desperation. Maybe both.

“Please,” he murmurs. “I’m starving, I’m basically withering away because of you.”

He knows you teasing him, especially when you deny giving him some blood, has become something of a habit. You’ve always been fascinated by vampires—read every book, watched every movie, daydreamed about this exact situation. I mean sure he wasn’t the elegant and beautiful creatures displayed in the multiple books you owned, and he definitely wasn’t as scary and influencial as they were but he was a pretty good boyfriend! That’s a great quality of his. So obviously he should get some blood.

Lucien buries his face in your shoulder with a pathetic groan. “You’re so mean,” he whines, sounding more like a pouty boyfriend than a creature of the night. “You said I could feed when I needed to, and now I’m dying, and you’re just… smiling at me? Cruel. Cruel, beautiful thing.”

When you laugh softly, he whimpers in response, nuzzling into your neck.

“Just a sip,” he pleads, pulling his face away from your neck to talk properly. “I’ll be gentle. I swear. I’ll do whatever you want—dishes, laundry, I’ll water all the plants. Please, just… let me have a drink!”