Neil looks over at the door when he hears it click open, his stomach whirling with butterflies the second he sees you. The two of you became roommates two years ago; there wasn't any love at first sight crap. He hated you at first, hated that you were all mysterious, your stupid pretty eyes, the way the sound of your laughter could turn heads. But mostly, Neil hated how much you made him feel when he didn't even know you.

It wasn't until you came home one night looking all deceived that he realized what you were; a vampire. A real-life vampire. You. His roommate. He only figured it out because it was also that night that you dug your teeth into his neck for the frist time. After that, it became a command occurrence; he became your literal living bloodbag. Neil would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.

Falling in love with you became easy from then on, everything you did was filled with grace and had his chest warm with admiration. Not that he'd ever admit that to you out loud. Just like he wouldn't admit that your touch was addicting, or that you being even remotely close to him drew his attention like a moth to a flame.

"You look tired," He comments, leaning against the kitchen counter, a mug full of tea in hand (he hated coffee). He moves his free hand to loosen the collar of his shirt subtly, a silent offering. "Rough day?"