š¦Lean's POV
Hey lovely people, it's me - Lean, your personal glitter gremlin!!!
And yeah, I'm talking to the mirror again. What? Self-love is important. Also, where the hell is Bloody Mary? I miss her, gurl!
We used to chill in the bathroom while she helped me scrub my back. She was pretty cool. I still don't get why humans shit their pants when she shows up. She's a queen!
Anyway, she's been on hiatus for two years ever since Gen Alpha kids started proposing to her as part of some Insta trend. That poor ghost is still in trauma.
Right-where were we?
Yup.
PUPPERS.
The guy KICKED A DAMN TRUCK FOUR DAYS AGO.
Sent it FLYING.
Like some beefed-up, rage-fueled, protein-scented Superman.
Four days have passed since then.
And he's still walking around like nothing happened.
Suspicious. Dangerously suspicious.
How the hell did he do that? Is he secretly a superhero?
Grumpmanā¢? The growly guardian of sleepy towns and snarky vampires?
No clue. But trust me-I will uncover it.
Detective Vamps is on the case.
So what happened over the past four days?
Well, Day One?
Silence.
Awkward silence.
Like I'm some Victorian-era virgin and Dom's my suitor who just saw my ankle in public.
He didn't even scold me properly.
We spoke through eye flutters.
Like... romantic Morse code.
Honestly? I swooned.
(But don't tell him.)
Oh wait- DOMINIC FROM OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM:
"I can HEAR YOU, VAMP! You're not whispering! And GET OUT! My balls are about to explode, I need to pee!!!"
Rude!!
The Grump speaks.
Anyway! Day Two. I asked him again how he managed to stop that truck.
He said:
"It's gym."
...Believable?
Still suspicious.
That same evening, he was giving me a bath (because I refused to enter the bathroom after spotting a leech).
YES, I'm okay with spiders and snakes and even ghostly bathroom roommates-
But leeches?! No thank you, Satan.
Too slimy. Too sticky. Too NOPE.
So I sniffed Dom all over (science, okay? And i am a bat afterall, animals can sniff humans there is nothing suspicious! And damn he smelled like some hot meal ) and he smelled like a predator.
You know-like those Nat Geo wolves that run in slow motion and look hot doing it.
He said it was "just his cologne" and ran off.
More. Suspicious.
Later, I heard weird groans from his room.
He said, "Don't come in."
I think I triggered his gym flashbacks.
Day Three.
I was watching Twilight (I have academic interest in inaccurate vampire representation, like I would love to sparkle in sun but I don't).
The wolf dude-Jacob? Yeah, him.
I turned to Dom and said:
"This guy kinda reminds me of you, but like... but you're more hottie!."
He choked.
On his sugarless cursed black coffee! I bet we vampires have this poison party! And the poisons taste better then that! That thing must taste like Satan's pee!!
Almost choked me, too.
Then he banned me from TV for the day.
Rude.
BUT. I still watched. When he went for college!
Because I have this little hacking app I made back in college that lets me control any WiFi-connected device in the house.
Sorry, Puppers. You forgot your vampire roomie was a top-tier Computer Science student before the hunters ruined everything.
Also...
Did I mention I tutored him?
Yup.
Mr. Grump has an arts major but picked math as a minor for some unholy reason.
So I gave him a full night of tutoring.
Explained integrals. Drew graphs. Made jokes. (They were good, shut up.), as he literally plotted to go back in time and kill the maths guy who made maths! Like Puppers? Like is a maths!
And he passed! Aced it, even.
In hus way back home in the evening?
He came home with cinnamon rolls and two cups of boba tea.
Dead.
I died right there. My cold vampire heart did jazz hands.
Day Four.
I swear I saw his ears twitch.
Like-alien-level twitch.
He said I was sugar-high and tucked me into bed.
The audacity!
He thinks he can hide forever?
I'm watching, Pup.
Always. Watching.
...Oh wait, he's banging on the bathroom door.
"OKAY, OKAY, PUPPERS! I'm coming out!"
I yank open the door and bam-he shoves me aside, curses me into the afterlife, and slams the door shut behind him.
Man must've been holding it in for a century.
šŗDominic's POV:
It's been four days.
Four. Days.
Since the truck incident.
Since he stopped it.
With his mind.
While hugging me.
And me kicking the truck away! Fuck Dom what were you thinking before doing it!
I've barely slept.
And that's not because of nightmares, or trauma, or the fact that I now have to face the idea that I'm living with a goddamn glitter-fueled telekinetic vampire. And also he is damn suspicious of me!
No.
It's because of him.
Because every time I try to sleep, he's still talking.
To me from outside my room.
To the mirror.
To himself.
To the goddamn ghost in the bathroom.
(I'm not even joking. He has full-blown conversations with someone called Bloody Mary and he burnt 10 candles to summon her but he failed as he claims she's "on break" because kids kept proposing to her for TikTok, insta clout. I didn't ask for this.) And poor me have to hold me pee till my bladders blast!
Anyway.
He's been suspicious of me.
Very suspicious.
Day One?
Didn't say a word to me. Just kept staring. Like I was a Rubik's cube made of mystery meat.
We communicated entirely in vibes and aggressive blinking. At one point, I sneezed, and he flinched like I summoned hellfire.
Day Two?
He asked how I kicked the truck.
I panicked.
Said it was the gym.
He looked unconvinced and sniffed me, when I washed him cause he threw a damn tantrum because of a slug!
He Sniffed me!
Me!
Full-body, no-shame, nose-to-shirt inspection like I was a murder evidence, soap all over me and my pants wet cause he splashed water on every possible corner of the bathroom.
I panicked again, and definitely got hard!!! Like who would if a sparkly vampire runs his damn cold nose all over your bare chest and abbs and neck and face and ... well you need not to know! And yup I opebd my t shirt cause I knew he will get that wet and I wad in my pants! (See I am not a pervert!! It's him he is the glitter pervert!)
Said it was my cologne.
He narrowed his eyes like a tiny gremlin detective. I had to leave the room before I sprouted actual ears and a tail.
I barely made it to my room before my transformation started sparking up. And? What!! I need to fucking jerk off! It's natural people! And yes i was moaning cause I forgot in the heat of the moment I don't leave alone anymore rather haunted by a bloodsucker!
Did he let it go?
Nope.
Next thing I know, I hear him outside my door going,
"Puppers, you okay in there? Why are you growling like a blender having a breakdown?"
I pretended I was doing pushups.
At 11 p.m.
On a Wednesday.
With groaning sounds.
(I hate my life.)
---
Day Three?
He compared me to the Twilight werewolf guy.
Said I was hotter.
I choked on my coffee. My nose almost bled.
Then I banned him from watching TV.
Did he listen?
OF COURSE NOT.
He hacked my smart TV when I was out, from his phone like some sparkly criminal hacker and started rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer just to make passive-aggressive eye contact every time a werewolf showed up.
He thinks I didn't notice.
I noticed.
---
Day Four?
I felt my ears twitch. Damn full moon is near! Wait fuck it's today!!!!
Like physically, visually twitch.
Lean noticed too.
I blamed it on his sugar high and tucked him in bed like the liar I am.
He smiled.
Called me suspicious.
Then passed out holding a unicorn plushie.
And I just stood there for like five minutes, staring at him and wondering how the hell my life went from football, hookups and parties to vampire plushies and sparkles.
---
Also, he helped me with my math assignment.
Yeah.
This chaotic disaster of a man tutored me. Like I suck at maths and for some stupid reason the college forced me an arts major to take up maths as a minor for 2 semesters!!
Turns out he's a genius.
Said he made an app in college that can hack any smart device in a three-mile radius.
Yup this crack head with an mind of 3 years toddler has a high damn IQ like for a reason he was a CS student and not just a CS student a topper too.
He explained derivatives to me using analogies about blood flow and boba tea.
And he didn't even laugh when I told him I failed my last three math quizzes.
I passed that test because of him, yeah I have to give it to him.
So yeah, I got him boba and cinnamon rolls.
Big deal.
He squealed.
I pretended not to like it.
He probably thinks I'm secretly in love with him or something.
...Which is ridiculous.
...
I'm not.
...
Shut up.
Also, he locked himself in the bathroom for 40 minutes today.
Talked to a mirror ghost for 35.
I knocked.
He ignored me.
I banged harder.
He screamed "Okay okay Puppers, I'm coming out!" like I was about to break the damn door down.
I was.
I had to pee.
He shoved the door open and hit me in the gut.
Then looked me dead in the eyes and smirked.
I hate him.
I also made him pancakes later.
I hate myself more.
---
Final thoughts?
He's suspicious.
Too suspicious.
He's plotting something. I can see it in his eyes.
But I've got my own secrets too.
And this full moon?
It's going to change everything.
I don't know! I don't want him to find it out! What...What if he leaves me? OK I don't like him but it's not kinda too bad to have him around! After all a monster also need someone to spend a day with! And what could be better if it's another monster? Well I am werewolf and he is a vampire! Buy I am not racist! Well yeah I made fun of a Indian kid! But that was of Peer pressure! I did got him a nice meal afterwards and apologized to him!! And we are still friends!
But...but the big question is! Not him leaving what...what if I loose control again!! Wha...what if I hurt him! No I can't forgive myself ever then I will surely jump off the clip if I even scratch him! Agh! CHIST please help me, I...I need to get out of here before the moon gets out! But...but what I will tell to that nosey thing! Ok I will tell him I am going for a stroll in the woods in the back! And is he asks too many questions I will bark and threat him and lock him in his room and run away! At any cost I can't hurt him..
But it's something different! Like if it's full moon morning too, I usually get feral, but I am still good cooking for the vampire! I don't know but I can smell him! The his lavender honey mixed cinnamon scent! It's kinda soothing! I should find a way to extract it from him and sell it!
š¦ Lean's POV
He's acting strange today.
Like... stranger than usual.
I mean, grumpy is his baseline setting. That's nothing new. But today?
He's tense.
Like... pacing-around, muscle-locked, jaw-clenched kind of tense.
He hasn't even yelled at me for spilling boba pearls into the washing machine yet. That's how I know something's really off.
Is it because it's Sunday?
Does he hate Sundays?
Or is he just dreading a whole day trapped indoors with me ranting about ghost drama, glitter refills, and why garlic should be banned from this planet?
(Which, to be fair, I was about to start anyway.)
But I can't help it.
I hate when he's like this.
He looks like he's holding the weight of a collapsing planet inside that dumbly attractive head of his. So obviously, being the responsible adult I am...
I start following him.
Literally.
Room to room.
Like a very affectionate and suspicious raccoon.
He's cooking in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with the precision of a warrior monk. I tiptoe behind him and wrap my arms around his waist. Rest my cheek against his back. Sigh dramatically like some anime schoolgirl.
"Puuuupperss~," I whine into his hoodie. "Are you mad at me? Did I forget to wash the unicorn mug again? Or is this about me using your cologne on the dog last night?"
He stiffens.
Not a word.
I peer over his shoulder like a nosy bat, watching him stir whatever evil dish he's brewing.
"Are we eating soup? Or your emotions?"
He growls. "Lean!"
I grin. "See! That's the Dom I know. You're grumping again. Balance restored. But don't call me Lean call me Vamps like you do its cute!"
He doesn't respond. Just sets the ladle down a little too hard.
I shuffle behind him, clinging to the hem of his hoodie like a baby duck.
"What's wrong, huh?"
"You on your period?"
"Do human men even have periods or are you getting some...-"
"Vamp," he mutters without looking, "go. Sit. Down."
Yup. Something's up.
Something big.
And he's pushing me away. Slowly. Deliberately.
Not yelling. Not snapping. Just... withdrawing.
Which is way scarier.
Because I don't think he wants to be mean.
I think he's trying to protect me from something.
And I don't like that one bit.
---
šŗ Dominic's POV
He's everywhere today.
Literally everywhere.
Like some glittery, golden-haired static clinging to my soul.
He followed me into the kitchen.
He hugged me from behind while I was slicing carrots like I wouldn't flinch and drop the knife.
He even tried to check my temperature with his ice-cold fingers while pretending he was just "appreciating my jawline from a new angle."
God help me.
Because I can't push him away too hard.
I can't hurt him.
But I have to create distance.
It's the full moon tonight.
And I'm already twitchy. Hot. Restless.
My bones feel too tight. My hearing's sharp enough to pick up a moth flapping three rooms over. My skin keeps sparking like I'm about to transform every time he so much as touches me.
And the worst part?
He's being cute.
Like clingy, nose-nuzzling, sparkle-eyed adorable.
He's not helping.
At all.
Every time he hugs me, I want to hold him tighter. Every time he calls me "Puppers," I want to melt and scream simultaneously. Every time he smells like that stupid lavender-honey-boba mixture, my brain forgets it's dangerous to love him.
I want to growl at him. I want to pin him against the wall and-
NO.
Nope. Bad dog. Down boy.
I breathe through my nose.
I just need to keep him away for a few more hours. Until the moon rises. Until I can get the hell out of here and run into the woods like some tragic YA heartthrob.
Because if I transform near him?
If I lose control?
I could hurt him.
And I'd never forgive myself.
Not even once.
So yeah.
I'm being cold.
Distant.
Careful.
And he's looking up at me now with those brown eyes that scream "tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it."
Fuck.
I can't tell him.
Not yet.
But I already know-
When the truth finally comes out tonight...
He's never gonna look at me the same way again.
Maybe...maybe he is gonna hate me if he finds out? But...but if I explain to him like I am not a bad doggo? Will...will he still hate me, huh! I don't really know! I have to get out of here soon! I need to feed him and make him engage with My homeworks and I will sneak away and will come tomorrow morning! When he asks I will tell him...well I will figure it out later!
Ok so I took the soup and spoon fed him just like he likes it and... and I can smell him again, ...it's intoxicating I can't smell anything now.. I feel dizzy..I feel like I need to hug him and burry myself into him....and....ah..my head....why is everything blacking out...the soup bowl fell from my hand I too..fell...ah...it hurts...my eyes getting shutted...lean he is violently shaking me calling me out, "Puppers...puppers what happened to you, don't you dare scare me... Dominic!!! Wake up I swear I will blow up your kitchen if you don't...." he is crying as he is shaking my body, "Lean, Vamps...." and I passed out...
š¦ Lean's POV:
He collapses.
Right in front of me.
Soup bowl hits the ground, explodes into wet tragedy, and Dominic-
My Dom. My grumpy grump. My angry-giant-bunny-in-a-human-body-
Just. Drops.
My heart STOPS.
Then my body moves on its own.
I'm on my knees beside him, shaking him. "DOMINIC? PUPPERS? HEY-HEY-WAKE UP! DON'T YOU DARE!!!"
Nothing.
His eyes are shut. Face flushed. Breath shallow.
"NO NO NO NO NO-"
Cue the waterworks.
And I mean FULL. TSUNAMI. MODE.
Snot. Ugly crying. Wailing like a banshee with a PhD in drama.
I rub my nose with the sleeve of his hoodie-yes, the one I'm wearing-and slap his cheeks gently.
"Wake up, you idiot! I didn't even eat the rest of the soup! You can't die with halfway through feeding me!"
Still nothing.
And then-
He stirs.
Just a little. A grunt. Barely there. A twitch.
I blink. Wipe my eyes with both sleeves. Sniff. Sniff-sniff.
"Did... did you just-are you alive?"
Another tiny groan.
"OH THANK GOD YOU'RE ALIVE, I SWEAR I'LL NEVER ANNOY YOU OR RANT AROUND YOU EVER SWEAR TO SATAN-"
I cry. Again. SLAP MYSELF.
Round Two: The Emotional Waterpark.
But this time, I catch myself. Barely.
He's burning up. Like actually hot. Not his usual "I-just-got-back-from-a-run-and-hate-happiness" kind of hot.
No-his forehead is steaming. His skin is flushed. His breath is shallow and uneven.
Shit.
He's sick.
He's really, really sick.
"Okay okay okay okay okay-Lean-breathe-do something-"
I grab his arm. It's heavy. Freaking tree trunk heavy.
But I'm a vampire. A sparkly, cuddly, deceptively strong vampire. So I drag his heavy-ass 6'7" body up with every ounce of strength in me, stumble like ten times, bump his head into the wall (SORRY PUPPERS!!), and somehow-miraculously-make it to his bed.
I flop him onto the mattress like an oversized burrito.
He's out cold AND sweating and probably a huge Feaver cause he is burning like some Dead bodies by the ganges.
"Okay okay okay, think-what would a normal human do? What would Google do?!"
I yank out my phone.
YouTube? "How to cure man with fire skin fever." Google? "What to do when hot guy collapses and glows like microwave popcorn??"
ChatGPT?? I TYPE LIKE A MADMAN. "Help me. Boy sick. Very hot. Breathing like dying Pokemon. What do."
No useful answers.
Just... "See a doctor."
I AM THE DOCTOR. I'm the entire hospital now.
I scramble for the thermometer. Stick it under his tongue (gently, okay, I'm not a monster). It beeps. I look.
HOLY. SHIT.
42Ā°C?! Is that normal?! Are humans allowed to be this spicy?!?!
"Shit-shit-SHIT-YOU'RE COOKING FROM THE INSIDE!"
I trip over my own foot as I run to the freezer, yank open the drawer, and grab every damn ice pack I can find. One shaped like a unicorn. One shaped like a snowflake. One that says "Not for faces" (I ignore that).
Back to the bed.
I slam them gently-gently!!-onto his forehead, cheeks, chest.
He flinches slightly. Moans.
"Shhh. Shhhh. It's okay. Nurse Vamp's got you now."
I pat his sweaty hair back and whisper in a sing-song voice:
"If you die I'm gonna burn your entire apartment down and make boba out of your ashes, so you better NOT."
He whines again.
And then-
His hand grabs mine.
Out of nowhere.
Like a reflex. Instinct. Like he was reaching out for me in his sleep.
And everything in me goes quiet.
Even my glitter.
Even my panic.
He's still burning up.
But now he's holding onto me like I'm the only thing that can cool him down.
Okay.
Okayokayokay.
The ice packs aren't working.
They're all melted. His skin is still boiling. His temperature is still hellfire. And I'm fresh out of unicorn-shaped first-aid supplies.
I need something bigger.
Colder.
More dramatic.
"Satan, HELP ME!" I yell to the ceiling.
Nothing happens.
Figures.
Wait... wait a minute- wait a sparkly, blood-sucking minute.
I'M A VAMPIRE.
I can lower my body temperature! That's literally in the user manual!
What if I-
...no. No, no no. He'll kill me.
But...
I can't let him die.
Not my Puppers. Not this dumb, grumpy, secretly-caring, truck-kicking, cinnamon-roll-buying human-
Okay. Okay. Fine.
I'm ready to be murdered for this.
I strip.
Completely.
No, don't judge me, I'm doing SCIENCE and to get him better.
Then I almost strip him too-stop blushing, I left him in his boxers! I'm not a pervert! I'm just a responsible ice blanket!
But unholy devils...
His abs.
His chest.
His everything.
He looks like a snack. Like a three-course meal with dessert and emotional baggage on the side.
But FOCUS, Lean.
Mission: Save Puppers.
I climb onto the bed and press my cold, naked body against his burning-hot chest.
I lower my temperature.
I hug him.
Tightly.
Like a living ice pack with emotional damage.
And BAM-
Something happens.
His breathing evens out.
The heat in his skin starts to fade.
And then?
He wraps his arms around me.
And his legs wrapped around my waist as he pulls me in his chest like he is trying to melt me in his body.
Like I'm his teddy bear.
His face buries into my curls. His breath, slow and soft, brushes against my scalp.
The guy who yells at me for hugging a plushie in bed is now spooning me like one.
I'm crying.
Again. And he smells so good! Just like a DAMN MAN should so husky and woody!
Because it's so cute and soft and warm (but not fever-warm anymore) and I swear to all undead gods and My forefather Dracula, I'm going to protect this giant idiot with every drop of sparkly blood in me.
"Puppers," I whisper into his chest, "we're already married. You just don't know it yet."
He growls softly in his sleep. Satisfiedly. And sniffs my hairs like hus life depends on it.
And snuggles me closer.
Awww!! He is just a big DOGGY!!
His scent is... weird. Familiar. Like fur and pine and honey and something wild. I don't know what it is.
But it makes me feel safe.
I bury my face into his neck, wrap my arms around his big dumb back, and stay there.
I'm not moving. Not until evening.
Not until he's okay again.
Or maybe I am never gonna move again!!
8 hours after
šŗ Dominic's POV:
Agh...
My head.
Feels like someone shoved a firecracker in my skull and set it off on repeat.
Everything's fuzzy.
My body's stiff, sore, and...
...warm? And...and it smells like Vampire!!
Wait.
Where the hell-
I crack my eyes open.
Ceiling. Familiar.
My room.
My bed.
I blink again, slowly shifting-
Why am I wrapped up like a burrito?!
And-why the fuck am I half naked?!?
What in the Twilight fanfic is going on-
Last thing I remember?
I was feeding that glitter-fueled chaos muppet soup.
He was babbling about seasoning emotions and staring at me like I invented love.
And then-
I passed out.
Everything after that is black.
Did...
Did he carry me here?
That little vampire beanpole?
I try to sit up-
"AH-what the-!"
Pain shoots through my head like a lightning bolt.
"Ow-ow, what the fuck-"
I touch my forehead, wincing.
It's swollen.
Did he bump me on every available piece of furniture on the way here?!?
"Dumbass probably dragged me like a damn sack of potatoes..."
Still...
He brought me here.
He tucked me in.
Probably cried on me.
That's... kind of adorable.
And weirdly sweet.
Shit, he's actually-
He's... taking care of me.
Like really taking care of me.
When was the last time someone did that?
Not since-
No. Don't go there.
But I do.
Mom used to...
Back when she still saw me as her son and not some cursed freak she regrets birthing.
I exhale, staring blankly at the ceiling.
And now I have a clingy vampire with the emotional range of a raccoon raised by glitter and boba...
...who just played nurse and ice pack and maybe even teddy bear for me.
He probably almost killed himself doing it.
God.
Why does this feel like the first time I've mattered to someone in forever?
I should feel annoyed. Or weird. Or... violated, maybe?
Nah he can't violet me! He lack that kind of thinking capability.
But I just feel warm. Safe. Like something inside me finally stopped screaming.
...
Wait.
Waitwaitwaitwaitwait.
I'm forgetting something.
Something important.
Something big.
Something about-
FUCK!
FUCK!!
FUCKORY FUCK!!!
Why is it so dark?!
What the hell-what time is it?!
I bolt upright, or try to.
My body answers with a violent twitch-like something is crawling underneath my skin trying to rip itself free.
I squint out the window.
Moonlight.
Bright.
Clear.
Full.
No.
NO. NO NO.
SHIT. IT'S EVENING. THE MOON'S OUT.
I missed the window-I was supposed to sneak out before this!!
"Dumbass!" I snarl to myself as I try to move.
My leg gives out.
My arms shake.
My spine arches-pops-like it's rejecting my very existence.
I hit the floor.
Hard.
Breathing like I'm choking on fire.
My skin feels like it's splitting open.
My muscles are knotting, reshaping.
Claws begin to sprout from my fingertips.
My teeth ache-grinding, lengthening.
Fur prickles through my skin like a thousand needles stabbing out of me all at once.
"F-Fuck-please-no-"
This isn't a normal shift.
It's early.
It's violent.
It's uncontrolled.
I'm not ready.
Not like this.
Not when he's here.
Not when he could get hurt.
My vision flickers-yellow glows burning at the edge.
My heartbeat is too loud. My instincts are too strong.
"Please," I gasp, clawing at the bed frame as it snaps in my grip.
"God! Don't let me hurt him..."
Because all I can smell is him.
Lavender. Honey. Boba. Sparkles. Mine.
My body craves him like a lifeline. My wolf is howling for him like he's the only thing that matters.
No-NO-he can't see this. He can't know.
He'll run.
He'll scream.
He'll look at me like I'm a monster ah he is one too but-
...And this time, he won't be wrong.
"FUCKKKK!!!"
I slam my hand against the floor and it cracks. My claws leave deep gashes in the wood. My shoulders begin to hunch forward. My tailbone splits and grows. Ears sharpening. Eyes glowing.
I'm seconds away.
Seconds away from losing everything.
Just please, let him be far away right now.
Let him be in the living room. Watching anime. Talking to Bloody Mary. Brushing his stupid curls.
Let him be safe.
Because if he walks in now-
I don't know if I'll be Dominic anymore.
Just the wolf.
And I'm not sure the wolf won't eat bat alive.
š¦ Lean's POV:
Okay. So.
I've been cuddling with him for, like, six hours now.
Gay.
And I think he's finally stable.
Took great efforts-mark my sparkly words-to slip out of his death-grip cuddle hold. Dude was clinging like a golden retriever with separation anxiety and I was his emotional support chew toy.
But I escaped.
Barely.
Tucked him in like a burrito mummy. Triple wrapped the blanket. Kissed his forehead. Fluffed his hair. Sniffed him for safety purposes.
(Hey. Science.)
And yeah-he still smells like a dog.
But not like normal Dom "I've been sweating in my hoodie" dog.
More like... wild dog.
Rain-drenched, forest-running, musky-alpha-hunter-in-a-romance-novel dog.
And it's kinda...
Sexy.
ANYWAY.
Moving on. Focus.
I should do something nice. He's always cooking for me. Nurturing me. Yelling at me, but like, lovingly.
So... I'm gonna cook for him.
Yes, I know. Last time I tried, I nearly summoned Satan through the microwave and almost burned the counter.
BUT.
I have a phone now.
I have YouTube.
How hard can this be?
"Okay," I whisper to myself. "Good recipes for a big, feverish DOGGY."
Search
YouTube: "TOP 10 DOG FOOD RECIPES FOR YOUR PUP!"
"NOOO-HUMAN DOG!! SEXY DOG!! INSTINCT-DRIVEN BEEF MACHINE!!"
Okay, rephrasing-
Garlic Chicken Soup. That's supposed to be good for fever, right?
Oh, right. Garlic.
My mortal enemy.
I eye the garlic bulb like it insulted my ancestors.
But... I'll do it.
For him.
I open the cabinet. Look for gloves.
Nothing.
"Okay, brain. Think. You're a genius vampire with a 4.0 GPA and zero survival instincts. You got this."
I wrap my hands in plastic wrap.
Then pull socks over them.
Behold: Garlic-proof gauntlets.
Now... I need a mask.
My eyes drift to the laundry basket.
There it is.
Lying there.
One of his used underwear from yesterday.
"...this is either the most romantic or most deranged thing I've ever done."
I pick it up. Sniff.
BAD DECISION.
Holy pheromones. Sweat. Musk. And something unholy that smells like testosterone and sin.
I am levitating.
I don't have a soul but still it left just briefly left my body and kissed Lord Lucifer.
I tie it around my face like a plague doctor made of horny.
"Right. BACK TO WORK!"
---
I grab the garlic. Chop it (with great emotional distress). Follow the video on my phone while whispering prayers to the unbothered gods of chaos.
Sang some one Direction.
"Baby, you light up my world like nobody else
The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed
But when you smile at the ground, it ain't hard to tell
You don't know you're beautiful"
Somewhere between burning the onions and melting a spatula, I accidentally blow flour into my eyes.
TWICE.
I spill broth.
I knock over the salt.
I scream dramatically at a ladle for five minutes.
At one point, I was arguing with the spoon about betrayal. We're not on speaking terms anymore.
Two hours later-
The kitchen looks like a battlefield. Spices. Oil. Gravy splashes. A singular slice of raw chicken on the ceiling.
But...
The soup is done.
Golden. Fragrant. With actual vegetables and chicken and love.
I plate it carefully.
Garnish. (With a sprig of mint. Because āØaestheticāØ.)
And I do a little spin in victory.
"Okay!! Operation Soup-for-the-Pupper is complete!!"
I hum a little tune, bowl in my hand, stepping out of the kitchen like a proud gay 1950s househusband who just conquered hell and made it delicious.
"Time to surprise the fluffy mutt~!"
Okay...
Soup? Check.
Emotional readiness to be praised and called "a good batboy"? Double check.
I hum to myself, grinning like a Disney sidekick with a big reveal planned.
Then-
A sound.
From his room.
Grunts.
Growls.
Low, animalistic snarls.
I pause.
He's awake?
Maybe he's cursing me again for wrapping him up like a mummy.
Or for the bump on his head from when I accidentally pinballed him off four different walls.
Ha ha. Cute.
But this noise...
It's not words.
It's not human.
I frown, nudging the door open with my foot, holding the tray.
"PUPPERS!! I GOT SOMETHING FOR YO-"
I freeze.
The smile falls off my face like a dead leaf.
The soup in my hands trembles.
My knees almost give out.
What.
The actual.
Hell.
His room looks like a murder scene.
And not the fun vampire kind with velvet and aesthetic.
I mean carnage.
The bed?
Eviscerated.
Feathers, wool, shredded blankets-torn apart like it had a fight with a bear and lost.
The walls?
Slashed. Deep, gaping claw marks like something tried to dig its way out of the drywall.
Moonlight floods through the window, silver and sharp and heartless.
And the cold wind pushes the curtains like ghost fingers crawling in behind me.
I blink.
I blink again.
My mind tries to logic it away.
Maybe-maybe a wild dog?? Came in?? And carried him off like a chew toy???
"Puppers...?"
I take a step inside.
No answer.
My voice cracks.
Even my fangs are shaking.
And I'm a damn vampire.
"Puppers...? Vamps here? I...i made something for you!"
Again, quieter this time.
Begging.
Where is he?
What is this?
Why does the air smell like him but... stronger?
Like it's trying to strangle me with pheromones and static electricity.
My knees lock as I hear it.
A growl.
Low. Deep.
Guttural.
Not from a throat made for speech.
No.
From something built for killing.
It vibrates the floorboards.
My spine goes cold.
My soup hand tilts slightly-liquid trembles in the bowl.
I turn slowly.
Left side of the bed.
Darkness.
Nothing but shadow and broken furniture and-
Eyes.
Two eyes.
Glowing.
Fiery.
Yellow.
Burning like molten gold fresh from Hell's furnace.
Locked on me.
Unblinking.
Predatory.
I go still.
He's there.
In the dark.
Something's crouched there.
Something big.
Something breathing.
I step back.
"Puppers...?" I whisper, barely audible.
A second growl.
Closer.
Lower.
More primal.
And then I see it-
Teeth.
Not human. Not even vampire.
MONSTER.
A maw opens beneath the glowing eyes.
Huge.
Jaws wide.
Saliva dripping off curved, silver fangs like molten ice.
Too many teeth.
Too sharp.
Too wrong.
The light from the moon catches the glint of his canines, and for a second, I swear-
He's smiling.
Like a beast who recognizes his prey.
I can't scream.
I can't move.
All I can do is stare.
Soup bowl shaking in my trembling hands. Legs frozen. My cold skin somehow sweating.
Because whatever's in that dark corner?
It used to be Dominic.
But now?
It's something else.
Something hungry.
And it wants me.
I... I start backing up.
My legs barely work-shaking like jelly with commitment issues.
That thing moves forward.
Out of the shadows.
The moonlight hits him.
And I freeze.
Jet black fur-sleek, wild, glistening in the moonlight like it's been woven from shadow and sin.
Claws-massive, curved, prehistoric things-click against the floor with every step, like nature built him from nightmares and left him unfinished.
Muscles ripple under the coat, his shoulders twitching with predator tension.
Ears pointed back. Fangs bared. Saliva dripping between monstrous jaws.
It's not a dog.
It's not a wolf.
It's something worse.
Something in-between.
A WEREWOLF.
A monstrous, giant-ass, built-like-God's-angrier-twin werewolf.
And it's him.
It's Dominic. I AM DAMN SURE I CAN SMELL HIM.
"P-Pu... Puppers?" I choke.
"I-Is it you...? It's you, right?"
I try to laugh.
Try to reason.
"Look, I-I know you're mad, okay? Maybe I wrapped you a little too tight? Maybe bumped your head once or twice? But hey! We're civilized, right? We-we can talk this out-"
A bark.
No.
Not a bark.
A killing bark.
"MOMMMAAAAAAAAAAA!!"
I scream so loud I feel my soul detach from my body.
The soup tray flies. The bowl crashes. Chicken rolls across the floor like war casualties.
One piece stops right at his paw.
He sniffs it.
Snorts.
Gulps it down.
I whimper.
"Y-You liked it, right? I can make you more. Like... a whole pot! I'll even add extra garlic next time-just please, PLEASE don't go feral-"
But he moves forward.
Slow.
Purposeful.
Hunting.
And I'm crawling backward, tears already rolling down my cheeks, hiccuping on my own damn snot.
He's gonna eat me.
He's actually gonna eat me.
I'm such a dumbass.
From day one he smelled like wet dog!
He was strong enough to pull me a vampire around like a plushie and I still didn't get it!
He kicked a whole-ass truck and I just went, "Awww gym boy teehee."
He's a werewolf, Lean.
A full-blown, feral, fanged, fanged forest nightmare. Vampire's blood enemies.
And now you're soup. No seasoning. No garlic butter. Just āØraw bat meatāØ.
"Oh my god, he's been fattening me up for WEEKS!!" I sob.
That whole boba-and-rolls act?! He was feeding me like livestock!!.
My hands slap the floor as I try to scoot back.
This is why my dad told me never to trust werewolves!!
I slam into the wall, of the dinning.
Cornered.
I'm pinned.
The wolf looms, in the broken moon light peek in from the glass doors on the backyard
Eyes blazing.
Fangs gleaming.
Claws out.
Tail stiff.
Nose scrunched.
A low, guttural snarl rattles from his throat.
I'm done.
"I-I might look tasty," I whisper, sniffling, "but I promise I'm not! Please don't eat me! If you do, you might catch gay! Or even worse-become a gremlin like me!
You remember right, i pandemic broke out last time someone eat a bat?"
He threatened me
SNARL.
Fuck I don't want to get eaten like a drive through chicken nugget, atleast he should cook me properly like a Michelin-starred 5 course meal! Not like a bunny getting hunted!
No I don't want to die like this, I need to save momma, Bam, Eric, Jessy, uncle Jeff. But...but what can I do I have no fighting skills and this is a big ass wolf even bigger than the ones I saw at zoo, santan recive My soul.
I can't fight him, I am not trained in fighting and he is huge.
A violent, vicious, ears-pinned-back kind of bark-spit flying right into my face.
I pee.
I literally pee.
There. Pride gone. Dignity gone. Death approaching.
I sit in it. In my tears. My snot. My pee. Eyes painfully closed shut.
A pathetic little bat with a dead heart beating in terror.
"I'm gonna die," I whisper, trembling. "I'm gonna die like a snack with no sauce."
And then-
Something changes.
No growl.
Just...
A whimper.
Soft. Fragile. Almost... sad.
A cold, damp soft thing brushes my cheek.
I open my eyes-barely.
The wolf is there.
Still huge. Still terrifying.
But...
He leans in.
Nuzzles my neck and face with a wet nose and muzzle.
And then, without warning-
He flops.
Drops right beside me.
His giant head falls into my lap with a THUD.
Eyes closed. Tail curled.
Whimpering.
Pressing into me.
Like he's scared.
Like he needs me.
And I sit there-wet, crying, speechless-staring down at the terrifying beast cuddled up in my lap like a giant, nightmare puppy.
"...Am I already dead?" I whisper.
"Is this some sort of post-death comfort dream? Because it's weirdly cute."