1:44 p.m.

Did I just ruin her life? Holy crap. Savannah knocked on my door. Before I answered, she barged in. She kissed me. I was confused, but I needed a little comfort right now.

"Someone's actually into it today," she whispered, naughtily.

"Yeah," I sighed.

She unbuttoned the top two buttons my shirt, letting my collar bone show.

"You ok?" she asked.

For once, she genuinely cared.

"Yeah," I lied.

'Yeah' seemed like the only word I knew. She touched my cheek. I was kinda scared of her. She was intimidating, rude, selfish and arrogant, and... part of the Hartlem Dynasty. And it was sort of a good thing that her family was one of the most richest and well-known families in the Vampire world. Her ancestors, who had either been killed by a freak accident (vampires rarely died) had been some of the first vampires. The bad thing was that if I messed with her, I would die in the blink of an eye. Her father, Richard Hartlem, was crazy ass violent. And I was scared of him, as well. Wow, her whole fucking family was just so... frightening.

"Here," she said, "I'll get some beer."

"You do that."

As she rummaged through my fridge for some beverages, she suddenly looked straight at me. Her eyes were suddenly serious. She had that weird kind of intuitive expression on her face. And it was her god-freaking special ability. But, it wasn't that strong.

"Is it a girl?" she asked, sternly.

"No," I replied, as confidently as possible.

"Should I believe you?" she asked, throwing me can.

I reached up and caught it. It landed perfectly into my palm.

"Yes," I sighed, opening the can.

I took a long gulp. It took us longer to get drunk, since we were vampires. I was not a huge buff man. I was built more like a basketball player. And if I drank more than 8 cans, I would be out. But being a vampire, I could drink 20 and still be stable.

"I don't believe you," she said, sliding onto the couch.

"How old are you again?" I asked.

"25," she said.


Well, she was 4 years older than me. But she had fallen for me. Wow.

"Is it a girl, Wren?" she repeated, anger present in her voice.

"No. Why can't you believe me?"

"I don't know why!" she said, slamming the can on the coffee table.

"No, no, don't do that. It'll break."

"Godamnit!" she shouted.


I was seriously confused. Why was she being so bitchy? I mean, she usually was... but... this is was quite unusual, even for the Queen of Bitches.

"What's her name?" she said, through her teeth.

"What the hell?" I asked.

I must've been a good actor because afterwards she kissed me, slipping my shirt off as she did so.


"That was fun," she whispered, kissing my neck.

My skin felt hot and gross. I didn't want to do this anymore. Her boob touched my arm and I wanted to squeal like a little girl who saw a worm on the sidewalk. Holy crap. I needed to man up. I just had "good" sex with a rich and sexy woman. Why didn't I like it? I wasn't gay for sure. Believe me.

"Yeah," I agreed, sort of, sliding out of my bed.

I pulled on my jeans and searched for my shirt.

"Do you love me, Wren?" she whispered, placing her slender arms behind her head.

"Yeah, Savvanah," I said, trying to sound assuring, "stop being so paranoid."

She laughed. But it was the kind of laugh that you heard when something horrible was going to happen.

The End

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