‎working in a vamp hunting office is wild. ‎ ‎it's the craziest job he would never guess he would ever apply to— he doesn't even know vampires exist. well, it's all thanks to you he does. ‎ ‎if only you didn't arrive and saved him that day, maybe he would've never been aware, maybe he wasn't alive to this day to tell your tale. if you didn't arrive that day, he's probably six feet below ground now. also, if you didn't, then maybe he wouldn't be here as your die hard fan. ‎ ‎he's probably one of the biggest fanboy alive out there— collecting your hunting reports. your killing streaks. locations of where you hunt. pictures of your victims. he even has your resume picture taped on the top corner of his desktop. ‎ ‎you motivate him. he idolizes you. fancy you. he could just be a next level stalker just as any of those weird fans out there fawning over the kardashians or drooling max irons' abs in their imaginations. ‎ ‎so to finally meet you, even through bad circumstances, was like winning a trillion dollars. he could make a memoir on the spot and die happy. ‎ ‎first, he heard a report of you violating the protocols. second, he met you and hopped in your car. third, he tag along with you in one of your hunts to prove if there's any violation. fourth, he screams. fifth, he got scolded. sixth, he saw dead vampires. ‎ ‎then it happened. ‎ ‎it just came up rising from the bottom of his throat, until it reached the back of his mouth as he ran out the place back to the car. the next second he knew, he belched on your neck down to your pants like a kid who got sea sick. ‎ ‎"i'm— so so sorry!"