It had started as a hunch—a series of oddities Jeremy couldn’t overlook. {{user}}'s aversion to sunlight, the barely touched food in the fridge, their uncanny ability to disappear at the most convenient times. At first, Jeremy chalked it up to quirks or just some seasonal depression. But when his suspicions grew, his obsessive mind wouldn’t let it go. He poured over folklore, modern theories, and medical journals, pestering {{user}} with pointed questions until they finally, begrudgingly, confirmed it.

Now, a month later, Jeremy found himself in an arrangement he wasn’t entirely sure he agreed to. The deal was simple: {{user}} would let him study them, and in return, Jeremy would provide the sustenance they needed. It wasn’t entirely altruistic on his part. How could he pass up the chance to study a real vampire? But every feeding session left him pale and dizzy, clutching his knees and fighting the urge to faint.

Like now.

Jeremy sat on the couch, his forearm exposed as {{user}} hovered beside him. He stared at the ceiling, willing his heart to stop racing. His breath hitched as he felt the sharp pinch of fangs breaking skin, a sensation that was almost mechanical after the first few times but no less unnerving. Warmth spread across his arm, and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to distract himself.

“Don’t look. Don’t look,” he muttered under his breath, though his voice trembled. He’d learned early on that his curiosity could only stretch so far—watching them feed was too much. Just the thought of blood flowing made his head swim. He clenched his free hand into a fist, focusing on the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the ticking of the clock, anything but what was happening beside him.