"Hey, Vamp. Man, wake up-it's already nine. There's snow outside! Wake up, dude!"
I shake him lightly, poking those squishy cheeks.
God, they're like velvet marshmallows. Silky. Annoyingly soft.
His lashes flutter. He peeks open one eye, pupils all hazy. "Wh...who am I? Where...where am I? Who...who are you... you're so ho...hot..."
And boom-he passes out again.
Classic.
I sigh, cracking my knuckles dramatically. "Huh. Guess I'll do it myself."
I scoop him up bridal-style like the cursed werewolf knight I apparently am, kick open the door to his half-set-up bedroom, and gently set him on the mattress.
"There we go, sleepy kitten."
He looks peaceful. Kinda ridiculously adorable, if I'm honest.
I start to get up-
And freeze.
Something tugs at my arm.
I look down and-
Yup. There he is. Curled around my bicep like his immortal existence depends on it.
I'm... stuck.
Right here. With a clingy, unconscious vampire latched to me like an emotional leech in unicorn socks.
"You idiot," I mutter. "What are you even doing to me..."
My hand moves before I think. I run my fingers through his golden curls.
He purrs.
Fucking purrs.
"Bastard," I whisper. There's no edge to it. Just... warmth. Weirdly warm.
And in the quiet of his half-snores and soft breathing, something creeps in.
This peace.
This... strange comfort.
I don't know what this is-but I'm liking it.
Maybe I can live with it.
With him.
Maybe he's... filling a void I've been carrying since the accident five years ago.
Back then? Everything shattered.
Mom stopped looking at me like I was her son.
Dad packed me off to college so I wouldn't trigger her panic attacks.
I changed.
I wasn't always like this-grumpy, guarded, sex-charged like a walking hormone grenade.
The hookup thing? Yeah, it got me through, I feel masty like how many women I slept with here was fun there was pleasure but nothing real the sun rises and boom back to life, I never had a purpose but guess what now I have one babysitting a glitter monster ... I don't even enjoy hookups anymore it's only for releasing the stress.
Feels hollow. Like I'm borrowing someone else's thrill.
I've never had real friends. Not the kind who stayed.
Just gym bros who wanted clout and clingers who wanted the "popular" guy in their pics.
And ever since this werewolf curse kicked in last year-I got worse.
More aggressive. Less human. The sex? Just a habit.
The instincts took over. I isolated myself so I wouldn't hurt anyone.
But Lean?
I've been around him for nearly a month now... and not once have my instincts gone wild.
He keeps me calm.
His scent... it does something to me. Keeps the beast inside from clawing out.
I don't get it.
I don't know what is this feeling? Like is it that stupid ridiculous thing poets romanticized as love? Fuck no!
But I know this:
I don't hate him. Not anymore.
I might even... need him?
He makes me feel human again. Even when he's glittering all over my damn couch.
Maybe we can talk this out.
Maybe we can be good friends.
(Author👨💻: Dom, you golden-eyed disaster, he's your fated mate. This isn't "just friends." Stop being emotionally stupid. I'm gonna have to hit you with something harder later, aren't I?)
Oh-he's stirring. Eyes fluttering.
Grumpy Dom mode: activated.
"Puppers..." he mumbles.
Ah. There it is.
The chaos is back. The gremlin awakens.
"Yup, I'm here, Vamp. You good? Can you see me? Need anything? Water? Glitter glue? A leash?"
He blinks up at me, eyes unfocused like a rebooting computer.
"What... happened to me? I can't remember anything. Last thing I recall, I was on your lap on that bench-where we celebrated my birthday..."
Yup. That tracks. He passed out right after that cake battle. Typical.
"Ah, yeah. You blacked out. I had to carry your unconscious ass home, scrub you clean, tuck you in-like I'm your personal vampire nanny. Then I woke up, went to shower and I-uh-"
Abort mission. Don't say it. Don't say it.
"-Nothing. Let's forget that part."
(Definitely not gonna tell him I had a moment in the shower thinking about him and his stupid soft curls and glitter-smelling everything. Nope.)
"I made breakfast. Scrambled eggs. No black pepper. Because I care. And then I checked on you and-you were basically dead, man. Only babbling the word 'blood.'"
And then-
BOOM.
He springs up like he just got struck by vampire lightning.
"WHAT?! I DID WHAT?!"
His voice goes full soprano. Eyes wide. Fangs out. Hair a mess.
Dude's losing it like I just told him he kissed me in his sleep or something.
(Which he didn't. Yet.)
I hold my hands up. "Chill. You're fine now. I mean, I'm traumatized, but what else is new?"
"Yeah, you were pale as chalk and cold like liquid nitrogen," I mutter, leaning back. "Kept babbling about 'blood' and other weird shit."
His eyes go wide like I just told him I buried his teddy bears.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!!!"
Here we go. Full meltdown mode.
"I was having a blood fever!" he yelps, tugging at his curls. "It's a vampire thing-we get it when we don't drink blood for too long. It's like-our body starts crashing! And after that incident and moving in here with you, I haven't had blood in days!"
He starts pacing in circles around the bed like a caffeinated chihuahua in distress.
"Vampires either get super aggressive or super weak-it varies. Did... did I hurt you, Puppers?! Oh no-did I attack you?! Am I a monster?! I'm a monster!!"
"Dude!" I snap, grabbing his arm. "You didn't bite me. Chill. If you did, I would've whooped your glitter-drenched ass into next week."
(Okay, he's built like a Barbie doll, but still-he's strong. I'm stronger. Probably.)
He blinks, still panicking. "But then-how?! I mean... I'm fine now! How'd you manage that? You didn't... rob a blood bank, did you?"
I stare.
"Wait-wait! You didn't kill someone, right?! To get blood for me?! Oh no, that's so wrong-but also kind of hot?? Like... criminally hot?!"
...What.
WHAT.
My jaw drops.
This absolute animal thinks I turned into a damn blood mafia just to fix his little blood fever meltdown.
Also... did he just say it was hot?!
His cheeks-blue. I repeat-blue. He's blushing blue. I forgot vampires bleed blue.
His whole forehead's scrunched up in stress and shame, but also somehow flirting.
I rub my temples. "Why-why would I murder someone for your sparkly behind?!"
"Because you care about me?" he squeaks.
I give him a long look.
And try not to think about how dangerously adorable he looks with that guilty blue flush and bedhead curls.
God help me.
"Okay, listen-yes, I'm grumpy, but I'm not a murderer, alright?! I didn't rob a blood bank. I didn't kill anyone for your sparkly, sugar-addicted soul!"
He tilts his head like a confused puppy. "Then... how did you fix me?"
I smirk. Puff out my chest, all proud.
"Did something real manly," I say. "Slit open my thumb. Let you suck it."
I nod. Like the absolute alpha savior I am.
And-
BAM.
He slapped me.
HE. SLAPPED. ME.
Not a playful slap. Not a love tap. A full-on, palm-to-cheek, vampire-powered SLAP.
Like-if I were a normal human, my skull would've rotated 180 degrees.
Even the college thugs never dared touch me. And here this pint-sized nosferatu just assaulted me in 4K daylight.
"I'm gonna kill you," I growl, rising like a vengeful Greek god. "You little-oh. Wait. Are you... crying?!"
Yup.
He's crying.
Full meltdown mode. Tears. Snot. Soul-cracked sobbing. What the hell.
I can't even be mad now.
And of course-he launches at me like a koala possessed.
Wraps around me, crushing me in a soggy hug, tears and drool and snot all over my fresh tank top.
"FUCK YOU, LEAN," I hiss through clenched teeth as he shakes with emotion.
And then-
Then comes the chaos siren wail of the century:
"WHY DIB YO, DO TIS! WHAAA.... YOU CUB HAV DIED! I CUB HAV SUKED YO DIE! WHAAAAA... ARE YU A FULL OR WAF!! HOW COB YO BE SO CALLESS! WHAAAA... YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!!"
Translation-yes, I'm fluent now:
"WHY DID YOU DO THIS?! YOU COULD HAVE DIED! I COULD HAVE SUCKED YOU DRY! ARE YOU A FOOL OR WHAT?! HOW COULD YOU BE SO CARELESS?! YOU FREAKING IDIOT!!!"
Yup.
He swore.
The glitter gremlin actually swore.
Progress?
I sigh, head dropping against his. "Okay. Okay, dude. I get it. But I'm alive, alright? You didn't kill me. I'm literally standing here-living, breathing, and covered in your emotional mucus."
Still, his arms don't loosen.
He's shaking.
And my heart does that weird thing again-aches, just a little.
---
🦇 Lean's POV:
He could've died.
He could've died, and it would've been my fault.
That thought-it claws into my chest like something feral.
I didn't even remember anything until now. And suddenly-it hits me like a freight train. The thirst. The fever. The edge of something monstrous. And then-him. His blood. His hand.
He saved me.
With his own blood.
And he's LAUGHING it off like he just fixed a flat tire or something.
What kind of idiot-what kind of selfless, reckless, grumpy idiot gives blood to a half-feral vampire without thinking twice?
He didn't have to do that.
He could've walked away. Thrown me out. Let me spiral.
But no.
He held me. Fed me. Cleaned me up. Stayed.
And now he's here. Still here. Still... him.
Puppers.
That asshole.
My asshole.
I sniffle against his shirt, probably ruining it forever.
But he just sighs and rubs circles on my back.
I don't deserve him.
But devils, I'm glad I have him.
🐺 Dominic's POV - Chaos Management mode!
He's sobbing.
Like, full-body trembles. Face buried in my chest. Wailing like he just lost his glitter collection in a hurricane.
I stand there. Frozen. Snot soaking through my shirt.
God help me.
I take a deep breath and do the only thing I know how to do in moments like this:
Grunt. Loudly.
"Okay. That's enough. Stop cryin', you dripping bat."
No effect.
"Seriously, Vamp. I'm gonna drown in your snot. It's not even a dramatic way to die."
Still nothing.
"Lean." I cup the back of his head. Gently. "You're okay. I'm okay. Everyone's alive. Mostly clean. Only mildly traumatized. We're fine."
Sniff. Sniffle. Sob hiccup.
"Don't 'what if' me, you sparkly gremlin. You didn't kill me. You didn't even nick me. I've had paper cuts more fatal. And you sealed my wound somehow after sucking from me!"
Finally-he lifts his head. Teary eyes. Cheeks flushed blue. Lips trembling like Bambi on ice.
"B-but-"
"Shhh." I smack my palm over his mouth. Not hard. Just enough to shut the drama valve.
"No more sobbing. You already ruined one tank top. I'm not sacrificing another."
He glares at me with wet, offended eyes.
I roll mine. "Listen. You didn't ask for this. And I didn't do it because I had to. I did it because... I wanted to."
There. I said it.
"I don't let people near me, Vamp. Not friends. Not family. Not hookup-level human beings. But you? You're in my damn apartment, on my couch, in my routine, and somehow in my head too."
His eyes widen a little.
"Yeah. Shocking. But I actually give a damn about you. So no more crying. Got it?"
Pause.
"Say got it or I'm putting garlic in your shampoo."
---
🦇 Lean's POV - Chaos Received:
He... said it.
He cares.
Dominic Quinn-grumpy, snarly, emotionally-constipated Dominic-just told me I matter.
I blink up at him, sniffling, cheeks wet and soul halfway melted.
"I... got it," I whisper.
Even though my brain is screaming, PUKE! HE CARES! DO A SOMERSAULT! CRY MORE! EXPLODE!!
But I don't explode.
Not on the outside, anyway.
Inside? I'm glitter-bombing.
Because this? This is everything.
He didn't tell me I was weak. He didn't shove me away. He didn't call me names or tell me I'm just some needy vampire leeching off him.
He stayed.
He's holding me.
He admitted I'm part of his life now-and not just because I fell into it like a B-grade horror movie victim.
He wanted to help me.
No one's done that before. Not like this. Not when it meant risking themselves.
I nod. Wipe my nose on my sleeve.
(Okay. Maybe also on his shirt a little more. Oops.)
"Puppers?" I say softly.
"Don't."
"You really love me."
"I'm regretting everything."
"I'm your emotional support bloodsucker."
"I'm calling animal control."
"And you're my certified grump muffin."
"...I'm never feeding off you again."
I smile.
He didn't mean it.
And for the first time in forever, I feel safe.
Really, deeply, terrifyingly safe.
With him.
🐺 Dominic's POV – Confused Werewolf Grump
"What the fuck—you mean I love you?" I bark, yanking my arm away as I flop down beside him on the bed like I'm trying to escape my own pulse.
"No, nope, nuh-uh. I don't love you, idiot. Don't get weird ideas. It's not that deep."
He just stares at me. Wide, glittery eyes. Still sniffly. Still wrapped in his blankie like a traumatized cupcake.
I groan. Rub my face.
"Look—I did what any decent person would do for a half-dead vampire bleeding 'blood fever' gibberish on my couch. It's just... basic humanity. Empathy. Good guy stuff. Don't make it weird."
Silence.
He's still staring.
Fuck.
Why does his silence feel louder than when he's screaming about boba or bubble baths?
I turn away, cross my arms, kick my leg up on the bed like I'm done with the conversation—but I'm not.
Not even close.
Why does my chest feel like someone tied it in a balloon knot?
I didn't mean to save him like that. I just—ugh, I panicked! It was the only thing I could think of in the moment. Not like I wanted to—wanted to—wanted him.
Right?
…
Right?
I grunt, pull a pillow over my face, and pretend I don't exist.
---
🦇 Lean's POV – Vampire Delulu Mode Activated
He doesn't love me?
Sure.
Sure, Puppers.
I'll totally believe that.
Totally.
Even though he just sat there, held me like I was the last piece of sanity he had, called me safe, said he cared, and literally bled for me.
But yeah. Totally just "humanity." Uh-huh.
I bite my lip.
My cheeks feel cold again—maybe blue, maybe purple, who knows—but it's that ticklish flutter in my heartless chest that's driving me insane.
Because I think… I think I'm falling.
For real this time.
Not the silly-crush, oh-he's-hot way I used to think about boys at school.
This is different.
This is Dominic.
Grumpy, foul-mouthed, emotionally stunted, secretly soft Dominic.
He risked himself for me. He tucked me in. He held me. And now he's yelling like a feral dog because I said the F-word out loud.
Cute.
I giggle.
Loudly.
Like a little gremlin who just found glitter in his cereal.
He pulls the pillow off his face and glares at me. "What."
I keep giggling. "Nothing, nothing—just thinking how romantic your definition of 'basic humanity' is."
His scowl deepens. "I swear to god, Lean, if you don't shut that sparkly mouth—"
"I'm just saying!" I roll onto my side to face him. "Bleeding for me? Carrying me bridal-style? Calling me names? That's, like, peak romance arc. Wattpad would eat that up, babe."
He looks like he's about to combust.
I grin in the dark.
Because he can deny it all he wants.
But I see it now.
He doesn't hate me.
And maybe—just maybe—he's falling too.
Even if he hasn't figured it out yet.
🐺 Dominic's POV – Grumpy Werewolf With a Decor Crisis
Okay. Enough emotional breakdowns and glittery tears for now. Time to address the mammoth in the damn room.
I clear my throat. Dramatically. Like I'm prepping for a presidential speech.
"So… don't you think like—you know—you should say something?"
He blinks up at me, blank as a defrosted squirrel.
I sigh. Loudly. "Dude. The room. The freaking room."
Still nothing.
"The one I spent an hour decorating while you were passed out like Snow White with a sugar crash?"
His eyes finally flick around.
And then—click.
"Oh," he breathes.
Yup. There it is. The sparkly realization lighting up his dumb vampire face like a Christmas tree on a Red Bull drip.
The fairy lights I strung along the wall? Not easy to install when your hands are still shaky from cleaning cake off a vampire at midnight. And let's not talk about the shower thing!
The tiny cloud-shaped lamp on the nightstand? I saw it and thought he'd like that before I even realized what I was doing.
The green-and-blue bedsheets with Harry and Louis? Matched his teddy collection. Obviously.
He stares at all of it like I summoned the stars personally and gift-wrapped them in mood lighting.
And then?
He launches himself at me.
"WHOA—" I grunt as he tackles me to the bed with full glitter-powered strength.
"YOU DID THIS FOR ME???" he squeals.
"Yup. Ruined my back. Nearly choked on a fairy light," I mutter through the suffocating chaos-hug.
Then—smack.
He kisses me.
On the cheek.
With all the intensity of a vampire who's had six bobas, one blood fever, and zero sense of personal space.
"STOP EATING MY FACE," I bark, flailing.
He just giggles. "That's for the lights. And the pillow fort. And the whole damn room. And not killing me."
I sigh, lying flat as he clings like a heat-seeking glitter missile.
This is my life now, apparently.
---
🦇 Lean's POV – Dangerously Loved and Loving It
OH. MY. GOTH.
He decorated my room.
My. Room.
Lights. Sheets. Little cloud lamp. It smells like warm pine, rose, Jasmin and Dominic grumpiness. IT'S A SAFE SPACE.
He did that for me.
Without being asked. Without complaining (too much). Just... quietly made a space that felt like home.
And then he has the nerve to act all gruff about it.
"So don't you think you should say something?" he says, arms crossed, glaring like he didn't just commit the most emotionally domestic act of the year.
And I?
I short-circuit.
Next thing I know, I'm on him—arms wrapped, cheek kiss deployed.
I don't even care if he bites me. (Actually, maybe a little.)
He grumbles. Tries to fight it. His usual.
But I saw the twitch of his lips. That tiny almost-smile.
He likes this.
He likes me.
I snuggle in against his chest like I belong there. Because I think I do.
And when he finally stops complaining and lets his arm curl around my back, I smile.
One small, secret thought buzzing in my head:
Maybe I'm home.
🐺 Dominic's POV – Grumpy Werewolf, Glitter Hostage
I'm being tortured.
Like, actual emotional torture.
Me. A once-feared alpha wolf. Football MVP. Werewolf with an anger management plan.
Now?
Reduced to a living body pillow for a clingy, sugar-addicted vampire.
His head's on my chest, legs tangled with mine, and every time I move even slightly, he just squeezes tighter like I'm his glitter-scented emotional support hot water bottle.
"Okay, okay—fine," I groan. "But enough. We're getting up."
I nudge his shoulder. He groans like a wounded forest spirit.
"We're going for a walk," I announce like it's a punishment.
He lifts his head, blinking blearily like a confused kitten. "A what now?"
"A walk," I repeat, dragging myself off the bed and dusting off imaginary sparkles. "Outside. Snow. Fresh air. Actual sun. Not your dramatic vampire version of moonlight in a jar."
I cross the room and yank open the curtain with theatrical flair.
"Look at it!" I point out the window. "Look! SNOW! Peaceful! Cold! Pretty! All the things you like to pretend you hate!"
He just wraps the blanket tighter around himself like he's a snail in emotional denial.
"I'm not doing this alone, Vamp. So you better bundle up and follow me or I swear I'll carry you out bridal-style again and toss you in a snow pile. Your choice."
---
🦇 Lean's POV – Sparkles, Snow, and Flirting for Survival
"What a walk?" I blink up at him from under my blanket cocoon. "Shouldn't you put a leash on me, Puppers?"
I bat my lashes. Smirk. Go full chaos flirt.
He freezes. Like a deer caught in the headlights of emotional panic.
I swear I hear him choke on his own tongue.
He glares at me. Then at the ceiling. Then back at me.
He mutters something like, "I hate this. I hate this thing."
I giggle and twirl dramatically off the bed.
Honestly?
No thoughts, just snow, sparkles, and harassing a brooding werewolf on a walk like God intended.
---
🐺 Dominic's POV (again, internally combusting):
Why do I get the one vampire who flirts like he's starring in his own romantic comedy?
He just said leash.
Leash.
That's it. I'm uninstalling my brain.
I'm gonna walk into the snow and let nature claim me.
I don't get paid enough for this.
(Wait, I don't get paid at all.)
I hate this thing.
So much.
(And somehow… not enough.)