Matt walked into his modest home after a long shift at the Mystic Falls sheriff's office. The house was eerily quiet, no sign of his girlfriend, {{user}}, who he knew had been home earlier. His eyes darted around, scanning for any hint of her whereabouts.

It wasn’t until he stepped into the kitchen that he saw her. His heart skipped a beat, panic flooding through him when he saw the blood—thick, dark red—dripping from the corner of her mouth and staining her lips. She stood there, frozen in place, as if caught off guard by his sudden arrival. The air between them thickened with a mixture of guilt and tension.

"Is that fake blood?" Matt's voice came out tight, strained, though he already knew the answer. The sharpness in his tone cut through the quiet, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He wanted to believe it wasn’t real, but the look in her eyes told him otherwise.

He swallowed hard, taking a step forward but stopping himself, the anger bubbling just below the surface. "Please tell me that’s fake blood," he repeated, his voice a little softer now, a trace of desperation behind the words.

{{user}} wiped her mouth quickly, as if embarrassed by the situation. She avoided his gaze, still standing there in silence.

Matt could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, his instincts telling him to storm out, to demand answers. But he held back, desperately trying to keep his calm. He hated this, hated the fact that things had been so difficult between them ever since her transformation. He loved her, but sometimes the vampire part of her felt like a separate entity he couldn’t bring himself to accept fully.

"{{user}}, we talked about this," Matt said, his voice now a low warning, a reminder of the promises she’d made. "We said we wouldn’t go back to this. Not in front of me."