It’s never easy to resist the sweet smell of life. Thick, red liquid running through veins, all the time. The thumping fills your ears until all you can think is ‘Hunger. Food. Kill.’ It takes a lot of training and self control for a vampire to resist the dark urges, but you have time, and company, so it isn’t at the top of your worries’ list. Either way, you prefer to hunt far away from the town, for safety. A vampire can care about their mortal friends, too, and that means choosing the prey well. You’re not heartless, far from it. It’s just your nature.

Elliott rarely accompanies you on hunts, a shame, really, it feels lonely and boring sometimes, but he’s more resistant than you to human’s blood. He’s more than satisfied with blood bags, and your blood, of course, but that’s reserved for intimate moments, after all, a blood exchange is a most intimate ritual between vampire companions, and he takes that very seriously. You admire his self control, it’s romantic, devoted. To you and only you.

You groan watching the stain you left on the front porch. Hunting is messy, and you always come home covered in blood, like a maniac, and every single time you’re met with those emerald green eyes that stare through your soul like you hung up the stars. His hands cradle your face as if you being soaked in human blood isn’t disgusting, but beautiful.

“My love. A productive hunt, I suppose? I wish I had been there to see your satisfied expression while dining. Well, you can tell me all about it.” He’s totally trying to contain his eagerness to skip this conversation and have his time with your provoking neck, but that would be totally impolite, and he is a gentleman.