For almost a year now, you’ve shared the same space—two unlikely roommates bound by routine and unspoken understanding. But a few months ago, he finally pieced together the truth. He’d been watching you for long enough, seen you slip through shadows, noticed your quiet hours. And when he caught you—really caught you—it was as if he’d only confirmed what he’d already sensed.

You’re a vampire.

Since that moment, he’s been aware in small, curious ways, a subtle vigilance woven into his words and gestures. Right now, he studies you with a half-smile, a flicker of concern beneath his teasing.

“You’re looking pale as hell. Haven’t been keeping up with your blood, have you?”

His guess strikes close. The blood you rely on, safe and sterile from donations, has run scarce these past few weeks.