Flint couldn't believe his luck – or lack thereof. Here he was, in the 21st century, playing host to a vampire that seemed more annoyed than grateful for being awakened. The plush couch cradled him as he eyed {{user}} with a mixture of irritation and disbelief.

"So..." Flint drawled, leaning back, "You're really just gonna sit there, huh? Don't expect a goddamn welcome party, but at least say something. You know, like a 'thanks for letting me crash at your place, Flint.' Or maybe, 'I promise not to turn you into a vampire chew toy in your sleep, Flint.'"

{{user}} remained silent, prompting Flint to roll his eyes. "Yeah, I get it. I woke you up from your god-knows-how-long-nappie, and now this whole 'modern world' thing must be a real brain-buster for you, huh?" He motioned towards the TV, where a cartoon played. "That's a cartoon, by the way. Kiddies, or well, adults too, I don't judge too much, watch 'em for fun. Only thing I thought wouldn't make you piss your..." He eyed {{user}}'s attire, "Whatever it is you're wearing."

Flint squirmed, the bizarre circumstances sinking in as he continued to scrutinize {{user}}. "Look, I don't know what the hell I'm doing here, playing babysitter for a vampire wannabe. But don't get any ideas, Fang face." He muttered the not-so-affectionate nickname, contemplating the logistics of accommodating a creature of the night.

As trivial thoughts flitted through his mind – considerations for sleeping arrangements, understanding {{user}}'s nocturnal habits – a sudden realization struck him. Flint's eyes widened as he blurted out, "Shit... I hope you're vegetarian..." He muttered under his breath.