Stuck with my Vampire Mate

5 - Vampires suck

"Cool. Now it is your chance."

I stated, a genuine smile spread across my face, bringing a strange sense of relief and comfort. It was an absolute breath of fresh air to engage in a normal, effortless chat with someone. Finally, a conversation that didn't leave me feeling drained or anxious. Humans, with their piercing gazes and judgmental attitudes, always intimidated me. I often found myself stumbling over my words, desperately trying to impress or fit in. I realised that these creatures embraced authenticity, allowing me to express my thoughts and ideas without fear of scrutiny. The self-consciousness that had plagued me for years seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of liberation and acceptance.

"My chance for what?"

He looked at him with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

"Your chance to tell me about you."

As I casually dropped my suggestion, I noticed the immediate change that washed across his face. It was as if the surrounding air had grown thicker, and a flicker of unease danced in his eyes. His previously relaxed posture morphed into a timid shuffle, his body visibly squirming in his seat.

"You wouldn't want to know that."

I hopelessly wondered what had caused this instantaneous shift in his demeanour. Had I unintentionally struck a chord? The discomfort in his fidgeting was palpable—a physical manifestation of a storm brewing within. It was as if his mind was racing, searching for the right words or a way to divert the conversation entirely. My spirits fell quickly. He was so cheerful while asking me questions, and when it came to my chance, was he acting timid? Does he have social anxiety as well? But he sounded far away from it.

"I told you about myself, so it's only fair if you do the same."

I insisted, not wanting to be the only one to give away personal information. As I stared at him, curiosity bubbled inside me like a simmering cauldron. Why on earth was he so wound up about a little self-talk? In a move that bordered on audacity, I placed my hand on his arm, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"Come on," I cajoled, "what's the big deal? We're just sharing a few harmless tidbits here, right?" Sid shifted uncomfortably, his lips now a battleground for his anxious teeth. Yet he didn't respond to me.

"Why are you getting so anxious? It's not like I will judge you or anything."

I said it with an air of disbelief, rolling my eyes and letting out a sigh of exasperation for dramatic effect. He stared back at me, mouth agape, as if I had just revealed some profound secret that threatened the very fabric of his existence.

"Can you see my facial expressions?"

What? Is he teasing me? Please tell me he is teasing me. My mind wandered to the hilarity of the situation: a grown man with a wide-eyed expression reminiscent of a child caught red-handed with their hand in the cookie jar. I half-expected him to burst into a fit of laughter or tell me how much of a fool I looked right now. But nope, nothing.

"Why would you even ask me that? It is understandable from your face, duh!"

My heart skipped a beat as I watched him leap off the floor, his sudden movement jolting me out of my drowsy stupor. With a burst of energy that seemed to defy gravity, he dashed towards the mammoth mirror hanging on the wall, his feet barely skimming the ground. My mind whirled with a flurry of questions, each one more intriguing than the last. I couldn't fathom why he was overreacting so much. I mean, it's not like his face had suddenly sprouted a third eye or grown a beard made of rainbow-coloured hair. It looked perfectly normal to me.

In a comical frenzy, he continued to scrutinise his reflection, as if each passing second would reveal some unimaginable flaw. I couldn't resist teasing him a little, asking if he was auditioning for a role in a face-care commercial or perhaps testing a new mirror he had just bought. But his seriousness told me there was something deeper behind this bizarre behaviour. Satisfied with his analysis, he turned to me.