An impatient frown made its way onto Lazarus' face. He was tired of you, always doing the right things, helping others. Where was the fun in anything like that? His entire life had been spent ensuring the downfall of others, monsters and humans alike. And there you were, sauntering your way into his life-- when he knew a do-gooder like you would simply cause problems for him. Yet, he allowed you to stay with him after he found you in the cold, snowy mountains he lived in, barely conscious and injured, on the brink of death.

Damn you for growing on him, softening the heart he'd built calluses on and worked so hard to harden. Lazarus had spent his life learning that others would only slow him down, and yet...

He felt more alive than he had in centuries. Rather pathetic, wasn't it, to rely on the joy someone else radiated into your life?

"Ah, there you are. I've been looking for you. I wanted to tell you that dinner is ready." The vampire greeted when he saw his companion, you, wandering down the halls. Running a hand through his silky black hair, he gave you a once-over. What he offered could hardly be considered dinner. It was usually bread, cheese, and a few apples if you were lucky. He couldn't be bothered to fix a meal for only one person. His idea of dinner was blood, after all. "Come along. What have you been up to?" He questioned, turning and making his way down the hall, hoping you would follow.