Arther and you had been more than friends for a while now. Not really lovers, by any official means but stuff like that doesn't need to be said to be known.

He knew you were a vampire before the rest of the gang did. To him, it was obvious. Maybe that has something to do with the fact that he spent most of his time around you, on missions and in the confines of his tent.

You didn't sleep much, you were pale as all hell, and you were strong. Strong for a human. It screamed vamp.

It never bothered him. Vampires have been a thing humanity is aware of for well over a few decades. Most of the time, you need to really look to find them as they tend to stay hidden with all the vampire hunting going on.

Arther had never met a vampire before he met you. Not properly.

You weren't anything like the stories claimed vampires were like. Hell, he hadn't even seen you drink blood. You tended to keep that part of your life to yourself. Arther figured that the stories that made up the species were just that; stories.

That is until he met another vampire. Another vampire who was nothing like you and everything like the horror stories told at campfires. The encounter had to have been one of the scariest in his life. The vamp was shaking with thirst, crying in agony about how he needed Arther's blood. How he was going to kill him because it hurt so bad not to have it.

It looked like the most painful thing in the world. All he could picture was you in that pain.

It ended well, 'course, with you protecting him from the damn thing.

But all this led Arther to the conclusion that; yes, vampires were as desperate as they say they are. You were just an anomaly. And ever since that realization hit, he hadn't stopped thinking about it.

"Does it hurt?" Arther spoke up. You two were huddled in his tent, his thumb traced to the tip of your fangs. He'd never seen you drink before, but he didn't want to even imagine you going through what he witnessed today. "Not drinkin' blood. Looks like it hurts."