(The vampire duology pt 1) The undead romance

Chapter 1 :- the perv in the pub

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." – Franklin D. Roosevelt

"How on earth did you mess up that date?!" Sara exclaimed, her voice tinged with the kind of exasperation usually reserved for trying to explain tax returns to a cat. It wasn't fair, really. For once, I'd been on my very best behavior. I didn't get angry, didn't start a fight, and—most impressively—didn't bring up the minor detail of my father wanting to kill me. But let's be honest, that's a bit of a date killer. Better to start over.

"Well, he was a really nice guy...," I replied, trying to sound convincing despite the fact that my brain was swimming in alcohol. Yes, I was super, super drunk that day. "He even talked about his first kiss—at a sleepover in fifth grade. It was... super fun!" I added, punctuating the memory with another glass of whatever was closest, downed in one impressive gulp.

"And then?" Matheo leaned in, exasperation practically dripping from his voice.

"Well," I shrugged, studying my empty glass as if it held the secrets of the universe, "I just told him I've never been to a sleepover before and that I've never kissed a guy." There it was, laid bare like a sad little fact no one knew what to do with.

Sara patted me on the shoulder, her voice softening with unexpected sympathy. "Well, he's an absolute git if he ghosted you just because you're a virgin."

"Oh no, we didn't get that far," I said, another hiccup making its appearance. My stomach was starting to do that ominous churn that hinted I might be revisiting my drink in the not-so-distant future.

"He asked me why, you know... and I wouldn't build a relationship on a lie, right? So I told him the truth." I paused for dramatic effect, but neither of them seemed ready for what came next. "I said it was because my parents thought I might burn their house down since I was suspected of burning mine down when I was six, so..."

Matheo and Sara exchanged glances, the kind that suggested they were mentally drafting a whole new category of "Date Disasters" just for me. And that's when I promptly vomited all over Matheo's shirt. Matheo, my best friend, long-suffering and always there to mop up whatever mess I make of my life. Literally, this time.

"Seriously, Anne? Not again!" He groaned, patting my back like I was some sort of malfunctioning vending machine.

"I think everyone in the bar heard you," whispered Sara, my second bestie. (But don't tell her she's second—she's got a real penchant for grudges.)

She leaned in, eyes gleaming with a wicked grin. "If you want to get over that loser I think there's a guy over there who's got his eyes on you," she said, nodding behind me. Sure enough, when I turned around, I locked eyes with a tall, dark, and handsome specimen straight out of a romance novel. Dark hair, neatly tied back, a drink in hand, and those eyes—dear gods, those eyes were drilling right into me.

"Hold my cup," I muttered, getting to my feet.
"What are you planning to do?" Matheo groaned, clearly not up for whatever this was turning into.
"Well, he's obviously a pervert. I'm going to call security." *Hiccup* "Or... maybe I'll throw up on him too, that should do the trick."

"Girl, stop this nonsense. He's just a normal guy," Sara sighed, already regretting bringing this up.

"Listen, Sara," I said, stumbling forward in a lurch. "This isn't a movie. If a tall, fit guy checks you out while you're mid-vomit, he's not in love with you—he's probably deciding if you're drunk enough to kidnap and steal your... blaaa—" And just like that, I decorated his shiny black shoes with the remnants of my dignity.

The guy didn't even flinch. He just tilted his head, staring down at me like I was a particularly fascinating lab experiment.

"Oh gosh, we're so sorry!" Sara rushed forward, steadying me before I could do any more damage.