Vampires (BOYXBOY) //REWRITING

✟¢нαρтєя єιgнт✟

[αмαι'ѕ ρσν]

I left hospital a while ago, and it's been one and a half months since the "incident", as my father deemed it. Krizstián still came 'round to my house everyday after school, walking me home. He told me he didn't trust the world with me.

It was kind of cute, seeing him all worried about me. He rarely ever let Jozsef near me, but when he did, Jozsef would cook me traditional Romanian meals which were oishii!! Like damn boy you sure can cook!

I know that I showed them that I didn't trust either of them, but I just couldn't help but want them, no; need them by my side constantly.

Since the incident, I've become very paranoid. I can never sleep. Every shadow I see is one of those maniacs, every movement is their hand ready to strike me.

My eye was injured during the ordeal, and it still has not healed properly. It remains hidden by a bandage constantly.

I sat in my room, curled up on my bed, my nose buried in a book when I could hear bare feet padding along the old wood. I looked up from my book, and the silver-haired Krizstián stood in the doorway, white shirt damp from the drizzle outside, and arms folded across his chest.

I lightly closed my book, placing it beside me on the duvet. I sat up, sending my silver-haired acquaintance a smile.

"Afternoon," I said, Krizstián walking over and sitting beside me. The mattress creaked under his weight, and the bed dipped where he sat. He stared at my face, gold eyes twinkling.

"Yo," he said simply, laying back on the mattress, hands behind his head.

"What're you doing here?" I asked, leaning on one hand so my face stared down at his unreadable face.

"Your dad asked me to babysit you." He grinned, watching as my cheeks burned red.

"What?" I stuttered, eyes wide. His expression turned solemn, and he cast his gaze away.

"He told me that you haven't been sleeping since the incident." He whispered softly. "I'm worried."

My heart began to pound in my ears, my ears burning in a blush. He's worried about me? I swallowed thickly, turning away from him.

He noticed my change in demeanour so he sat up, placing his large, cold hand over my smaller one. He curled his long fingers around my hand, thumb soothingly stroking the skin. My breath hitched in my chest, butterflies fluttering around in my tummy.

Why was he being so...

So sweet?

It was unusual for him, usually he'd crack a few jokes here and there; he was rarely serious. But now he looked genuinely concerned.

"Are you okay? You're red in the face." He reached forwards with his other hand, placing it upon my forehead. His face was inches from mine, his sweet breath fanning over my cheeks.

I couldn't look at him. My heart was pounding, and my hands trembled. "I-I'm fine..." I stumbled over my words. He frowned, wrapping his strong arms around me and yanking me into his cold body. I squeaked as he laid back on his back, my small body resting lightly on top of his. My hips rubbed against his, and my face was buried in his chest.

I couldn't hear a heartbeat. Was it quiet? Small red flags started going off in my head, but in my stupor, I ignored them.

He tentatively ran his hands up and down my back, rewarding him with little shivers. Then he proceeded to slip his cold hand up my shirt, cool fingertips sliding up and down my spine. I squeaked, tangling my fingers into his shirt. Small tremors rippled through my body, goosebumps prickling over my skin.