Master of Vampirism (Part #2) ✔️

Chapter 33: Sunphobia

I couldn't quite grasp my own reality.

My bluish reflection stared back at me. The only thing I heard was my own heartbeat, thudding loudly in my ears and trough my veins. Time slipped from me.

Where was I? What happened to me?

I stumbled away from the mirror, crashing into the wall behind me. Blue hands came into view. My hands? The nails were painted pink, which must have meant the hands were mine. Panic churned in my gut, but it felt... dissociated. It wasn't mine.

It belonged to a vampire.

And I couldn't possibly be a vampire. Those creatures weren't real. Those were just scary stories for children.

"Chloe?" A voice called out and I was almost certain it wasn't in my head. "Are you alright in there?"

Fuck. My own thoughts flooded me. I was in Ian's apartment. I was a vampire. And I was fucking losing it.

"Ian?" I mumbled, afraid to let go of the string of reality I held on to. "Can you come in?"

The door opened. Ian's concerned gaze met mine. Gosh, he was so hot. His arms were so strong, but his eyes were gentle and cosy and caring. And I fucking wanted him more than I wanted to breathe.

I literally grunted out loud, "I'm losing it. You have to take care of me."

Ian raised his eyebrow, "Well, alright then."

I took his hand, the tiniest spark buzzing through me the moment we touched. He pulled me out of the bathroom. Was this our time? Was this the right moment?

Would I even know if the right moment slapped me in the face?

His fingers grazed across the back of my hand, cutting off my thoughts.

"Chloe?" Ian's eyes jumped over my face. "Are you okay?"

"My brain is screaming at me." I said. "Anxiety is kicking in."

I could barely breathe. Every nerve ending in my body pulsated in the rhythm of my accelerating heartbeat. I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat, frowning at the pain.

"You need some blood." Ian said. "Just, sit on the couch, alright? I'll get it."

I nodded, collapsing on the soft cushions.

My eyes trailed across Ian's back. He opened the fridge and I watched as his muscles tensed with each move. Warmth churned in my belly.

This didn't count right? My actions could not be held against me because I was obviously out of my mind.

"How long have I been here?" I asked.

Ian turned around with the bottle of blood in his hand, "Eighteen hours."

"Shit. Eighteen hours? What's the time?"

"2am. Maybe you should sleep some more." Ian suggested.

I stood up and walked over to him. Ian gripped the bottle, almost crushing the plastic.

"Maybe you should sleep with me."

Our eyes met under the dimmed lightning. Ian's eyes darkened, which I took as an invitation to come closer. I knew it was the poisonous plant that fuelled my actions, but it was too good of an excuse not to use it.

"Chloe," Ian breathed out my name, "You're not-"

"Thinking clearly?" I took the bottle out of his hand and pulled him with me towards the couch. Ian closed his eyes for a moment, reluctance lingering in his expression. "No, I'm not thinking clearly."