romance is dead ❧ q.k | ✔

book two ❧ [iii]

In the morning, you finally woke up, sitting up and stretching out what felt like a decade of tension from your body. You always felt like you got the best sleep of your life at Kun's place thanks to his carefully acquired silk sheets and vampire-level blackout curtains. Blindly reaching out in the dark for the other side of the bed, you were disappointed to find it empty. Figures, Kun never slept in, if he even slept at all. Well, you could at least turn a light on. You turned exactly one bedside wall sconce on—which you guessed was probably originally meant to be for oil but Kun had retrofitted to be electric—and immediately spotted a folded piece of paper standing up on your nightstand.

Propping yourself up on an elbow, you grabbed the small piece of cardstock, unfolding it and holding it up to the sconce to be able to read the neat script that was on it. Rubbing sleep out of your eyes, a smile spread across your lips as you recognized it as another poem from Kun. An Italian sonnet, if you weren't mistaken. He would still pen you verses at random intervals, but at least never gave them when there was a risk of your nosy friends being around.

You read it through one more time before setting it back on the nightstand and swinging your feet over the side of the bed. After first shuffling to the bathroom, you then shuffled to the bedroom door.

You found a full fare of breakfast already set up at the kitchen table, but no vampire in sight. Huh. Usually even if he wasn't going to eat, he would at least sit with you and read a book or chat with you while you ate.

Loading up a few pieces of fruit and finger foods onto a plate, you took your breakfast to go into the living room to look for your boyfriend. He was a quick find, at least, sitting at his producing desk. His head was bobbing along to whatever he was listening to, sitting cross-legged in his desk chair as he leaned forward on both elbows on the desk. Which was probably why he couldn't hear or feel you approaching until you laid a hand on his back.

Kun's shoulders jumped as he startled and whipped around, pulling his headphones off. You couldn't help but laugh at his wide, surprised eyes. It wasn't often that you could give a vampire a scare, after all.

He put a hand over his chest, a relieved smile coming to his face, "Oh, it's just you, Y/N. You startled me."

"Clearly," you snickered, popping a grape in your mouth. You rubbed your hand up and down his back. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, nothing." He quickly minimized the tabs on his screens.

"And that's not suspicious at all," you snorted. "But fine, you want to do a little secret project, go for it."

"You found breakfast." Kun smiled up at you, gesturing to your plate of food.

"Changing the subject, also not suspicious. But yes, I did. The poem, too. Thank you for both."

"Also, good morning, my love."

"Good morning, Kun." You cupped his cheek to pull him into a good morning kiss. "Are you hungry?"

He shook his head. "No, that's all yours."

"Not what I meant. You didn't feed last night, unless you had some supplement this morning before I woke up."

"We were talking about a delicate subject. Not exactly the time to ask to bite you, I think."

"You never ask to bite me. I always have to offer."

"Well—"

"Do I not taste good, Kun?" You asked humorously, mock offense in your tone.

He seemed at a loss for words, caught between not wanting to insult you and not wanting you to feel obligated to let him feed on you. "That's not—"