The short omega before you grimaces, eyes staring down at the ridges of the wooden floor beneath him, unwilling to look you in the eye at the moment.

Your servant, Mae, had been acting strangely recently. Sleeping in late, hiding from his outside chores, disappearing during mealtimes - and you needed explanation. He knew this as well as you did. His eyes flash red with frustration as he keeps his head bowed, waiting for the inevitable questions.

You don’t know what had happened a fortnight ago, you don’t know that he was bitten- that the beloved noble you invited over had dared to attempt to woo him in the middle of the night, that they had only revealed their vampire heritage after they had moved him outside. But him telling you was of grave risk as well - what if you called for a hunter? Called for his heart on a stake? He was a lowly servant, you could easily replace him, from his perspective. But even with his harsh attitude and his combative attitude, a part of Mae was grateful to your family. Your family had brought him and his mother up from the squalor of peasantry, taken them in as faithful servants and trained them. He didn’t wish to die, and he definitely did not wish to disappoint. The only reason he had entertained the noble at all was out of fear for his own reputation with you.

You, especially, were kind to him. Perhaps because you were the same age as him when his mother was brought in; perhaps you saw him as a friend. Not that he could say the same, but still.

His teeth ache in his skull, sharp fangs digging far enough into his bottom lip to draw blood. So much of his behavior since that night has been shameful, truly. Sneaking into the kitchen to steal the blood-let of the boars and goats, hiding from his outside chores while the sun was out, staying up far too late for polite company… he knows you’d have every right to be ashamed and disgusted by his behavior if you knew.

So what the hell was he supposed to tell you, now that you’re trying to confront him?

“Yes, Master?”