Yandere!Vampire x Reader | Barracuda

七

Upon the old worn down bookplace, he could find no updated medical texts. Only these worn down, brick books from the 1600's that were criminally blurry. He guessed the wonderful ones belonged in doctors' and nurses' possessions. He'd have no luck finding something like it..

God help it if he fell ill. He was permanently nervous about his own health. There is no strong heartbeat, it runs possibly 10 or 11 BPM. When he eats, it goes up to 25, and when he finally drinks from a human it could even reach 89. He can't die, per se, atleast that's what's heard. But he's come to the conclusion that there's a possibility of getting very, very sick; And he did not want to trial insanity nor decomposition. People treated vampirism like a dirty word; dirtier than Blood disease.* And besides gossip about "awful vampiric creatures" living among them, there wasn't much to know about himself.

There was no body autonomy when you feel reduced to that of an animal. When hunger is present, it's like being a child again. Angry, Paranoid... Small. And being small all other times is nothing easy.

Additionally, There was still that guilt. It was now overcome by satisfaction. He enjoyed the company of someone that wasn't Labyrinthe or a Farmer's wife going, 'Oooh, How fancy?' Yes, serenity. No more walking on eggshells.  A stretch of peace is all he owns now.

He wonders, if he's out again, if you'll join him..
There couldn't be anything deeply wrong with it. You were good company, and he's sold himself on the idea that, this very fact will dispute any ill press that arises from this situation. And really, who's watching?

Carefully, he places the cuts of salted meat onto the centre of the table. Speaking of company, his dearest roomate of a 'wife' was present and looking extra maim. He knew that she was also incredibly addled about her own health. This decline was incongruous with her lifestyle - If anything he should be the ill one; Yet here she was, eyes beady and wild, the metal tin of water quivering due to her incessant shaking.

He didn't know what to make of this change. He couldn't imagine shaking like that, and he was unsure if it was even Lab on 'controls'. Regardless of Romantic interest, She was his best friend and the only person he's lived with for 25 years. Sure, he was a monster in the past, anyone would be. The thing about this lifestyle is no how much you learn, you're stuck in the same achingly youthful face.

He wonders if she sees the monster in him still, as he still sees the selfishness in her.
" What should I do? " He whispered tenderly. He kneeled close but didn't touch her, he never liked doing so, and now was no exception.

" I know not, " She licked the hemoglobin from the plate greedily as her partner watched in an uncomfortable silence. " I feel as if i've gone mad. " He had reason to believe it was indeed the Russian flu. They've gotten sick before, plenty of times, but this had him befuddled. The skin was  maybe only a bit more crimson than he remembered.

" I'm sorry, " He offered. What was there to do.. " Shall I bring back some medicine? "

" Always fleeing.  Only but a runner. "
He tensed up and moved his body a few inches away. This felt less like an illness, and more like a jealous outburst of.. something as more time passed.

" If It was true, We'd be without home. "

" Home, " She giggled a bit. It was a soft, real laugh. A similar laugh to the one He had with that farmer shortly ago. Not empty, but manageably bitter.

Whatever. " I'll retrieve Phenazone, Salt and Linseed. Do not eat once more. "* The shuffle of him retrieving his parasol and shoes could briefly be heard. Like all people in his life, regardless of how much he detested them, he felt obligated to take care of them in desperate times. And, who will he have once she's gone?