I don't really know how I got to Maxxie's. I just... grabbed my jeans the moment the nurse turned his back and jumped out the window. I mean, I was on the ground floor, it wasn't exactly hard to get out.
Not that I think a fall from higher up would have killed me, if I'm right. I don't want to be right, and I don't really want to find out if I am anyways.
There's an uncomfortable hole in my jeans, near the crotch. But I figured it was better to run around in a pair of dirty jeans that are more brown than they are blue now, than to be running about in a hospital gown, right?
Maxxie was the first person I thought of to come to - we've always been good mates, ever since we were in secondary school.
Sure, I know plenty of other people that know about vampires - you just have to look in the right place, say... a company that poses as a locksmith's but is actually a fully funded research lab designed with the purpose of eliminating threats to humanity such as vampires. I know. It sounds crazy. And really American. But I wanted a mate, rather than a colleague. Even if that mate happens to be about the gayest person alive.
At least the hug he's giving me now is a completely platonic one. And totally comforting, despite everything. By the time he pulls away and perches on the edge of the sofa next to me, I feel less like crying or punching something and more calm.
It probably helps that I'm nowhere near a heart monitor.
He doesn't ask what I meant by "a hospital can't help me now", he just understands. Though when I look at him, he has this look in his eyes that I don't understand. Like... wary, or cautious. He smiles and the look disappears, though.
"Guess your boss might not appreciate you turning up to work tomorrow then, huh?" he laughs and I smile. No, he's right, of course. My boss would definitely not appreciate having a vampire in the office.
I'm still hoping I'm not, though. I'm hoping it was a migraine and dodgy equipment. Not like the NHS is well known for being good at keeping their stuff in good nick. I tell him that and he nods with a small smile, but I can tell he believes that about as much as I do.
"So what'll it be? Coffee? Or shall I go see if I can steal some blood bags from the hospital?" he asks after a while.
"Y'know, I usually appreciate that humour, but right now?" I raise an eyebrow incredulously. Thing is, I can actually believe he would say something as blunt as that. He was never one to beat around the bush, as it were.
"I know. I just couldn't resist," he grins, lighting a cigarette. The smell usually doesn't bother me, but it makes my eyes water and I cough, covering my nose, waving him away with my free hand. He gives me a fleetingly confused look as he moves across the room, back to his armchair. I'm kinda glad he lit that cigarette, though. That over-poweringly gorgeous smell when he was close had been kinda hard to resist.
It twists my stomach as I realise the smell that's got my mouth watering now is blood - the coppery tang and the smell of melted butter. And I'm still thirsty.
Guess there's no doubt now, is there? I bite my lower lip and sit back, keeping my hand over my nose. The realisation makes me want to cry again.
"I need to get out of here," I mutter, finding myself on my feet by the living room door.
"And where will you go?" Maxxie questions. I don't know.
Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, where I can't hurt anyone, preferably. I shrug and watch him as he stands up. He stubs his smoke out and walks over to me. The eye-watering smell of the cigarette smoke and the delicious scent of... of his blood, are almost too much as he comes closer. He puts a hand on my bare chest and looks me in the eye as he talks.
"Listen. Go home. Have a shower. Get changed into some clothes that aren't more blood than material and come back here. The sofa's all yours, if you want it for the night," he says. I'm holding my breath. It's a lot easier to do that now than it used to be.
I shake my head and lean away from him slightly. This is harder than I thought it'd be.
If this leads to respect for the creatures I dedicated my life to killing, I'm going to commit suicide.
Mind you, I might just do that anyways.