Dominic's POV:
Yup. I'm outside. It's still snowing a bit, Walking.
Because I decided that I "needed air," and now here I am. Hands stuffed in my hoodie pockets, it's not like i feel too much cold the werewolf warmth is working fine boots crunching against the snow, trailing behind a literal sparkle-trail of chaos.
Lean.
The Vampire™.
He's skipping. Skipping. Through the snow. Like a damn child high on fruit punch and dreams. Arms swinging, curls bouncing, scarf fluttering behind him like a cape. He even has earmuffs on. Blue and green Of course.
"It's soooo white and fluffy! I feel like I'm inside a powdered donut!" he squeals, twirling in slow motion.
I blink at him. "You've never even eaten a donut because you are allergic to something I forgot that's a part of the donut recipe."
"I watch a lot of baking shows, Puppers!"
He beams at me, and I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch. Just a little.
The street is quiet. Snow blankets the world like someone hit a mute button on reality. It should be peaceful. Meditative. Grounding.
But no.
"You know what we need?" he gasps.
Here it comes.
"A SNOWMAN!"
I groan. "No."
"YES."
"No!"
"YESSSS! Come on! Just one! I'll build the body, you do the face!"
"I don't even want to be part of this project—"
Too late.
He's already flopped onto the ground like a tragic romantic lead in a musical, scooping snow into a huge mound with unholy speed.
I blink.
He's… fast. Not just "I had sugar" fast. Like supernatural blur fast. In thirty seconds, there's already a perfectly smooth, towering snow cylinder. Then another. Then a third.
Meanwhile, I'm still just standing there, wondering how the hell he managed to roll snowballs into Michelangelo's David.
"I gave him cheekbones!" Lean yells, beaming proudly. "Look! Greek god snowman!" Fuck he got skills in arts and sculpture and anatomy!! Like who makes a Greek statue in 3 minutes out of snow!!
I glance down at the lump of slush I've managed to pile up with all the artistic grace of a shovel. The head of my snowman is barely attached. The eyes are crooked. One stick arm is shorter than the other.
"You're really trying your best, huh?" he says sweetly, peeking over at my mess.
That little smirk.
Oh, that little smirk.
"You're mocking me."
"Nooo," he says innocently. "You're doing great, baby's first snow demon."
That's it.
I grab a snowball and yeet it at his face.
Direct hit.
He gasps.
"You DARE assault your only roommate-slash-savior-slash-glitter deity?!"
"Oh no, the vampire's gonna cry sparkles."
He scoops a snowball—no, two, dual-wielding—and launches both at once. I dodge one. The other hits my shoulder.
"You're asking for it!" I yell.
The war begins.
Snow flies. Curses scream. Lean is laughing so hard he nearly chokes on air. I duck behind a tree. He climbs a trash bin like it's his war mount. At some point I swear a squirrel joins his side.
And then—he slips.
One foot lands wrong on a patch of ice.
"VAMP!"
He wobbles. His arms flail.
I run before thinking, instinct snapping in.
He falls—
Right into me.
I catch him.
His arms loop around my neck. Mine wrap around his waist. His breath is shaky. Our faces are too close.
For a second, the world goes quiet again.
Just us.
In the middle of the snowy street.
Hugging.
Laughing.
Breathing.
I feel his cold fingers curl into the back of my hoodie.
My heart?
Pounding.
---
🦇 Lean's POV
Okay so maybe I slipped a little, but in my defense—
Snow is slippery.
And maybe I fell into him, but like?? Did you see him catch me?? With his big strong manly arms and those reflexes and that growl—ugh, he growled. He totally did.
He smells like toasted cinnamon. I'm gonna cry.
I'm still half-laughing, half-shaking. Not from fear. From adrenaline and joy and something I can't name that lives in my chest and flutters whenever I look at him.
"Puppers," I whisper, nuzzling into his shoulder. "You saved my sparkle-filled life."
"Shut up," he grumbles. But his arms? Still around me.
We're just standing there. Middle of the street. Snow everywhere. Cuddling like idiots.
And I don't even care.
Because for once… he didn't pull away.
🐺 Dominic's POV
I… I can't move.
We're still hugging in the middle of the fucking street.
My heart's still pounding from the slip. His body's still in my arms. The snow's falling around us like we're trapped in some romcom climax.
And then—
I hear it.
That sound.
That deep, thunderous rumble.
Tires skidding.
Metal grinding.
A horn blaring in panic.
I twist my head just enough to see it—
A massive truck—fucking huge—barreling toward us. Losing control. Sliding sideways on the snow.
And it's not stopping.
Fuck.
My chest seizes.
I can stop it but...but...I can't breathe.
Because suddenly it's not snow anymore. It's rain. It's headlights.
It's that night.
Me and my brother. The road.
The car.
The glass.
The scream.
The blood.
I freeze.
My legs won't move. My arms only tighten around him.
I bury my face in his curls.
It's gonna hit.
We're gonna die.
I hold him like he's the only thing anchoring me to this world, and my body starts to shake.
I'm not scared of dying.
I'm scared of it being him.
Not like this. Not in my arms.
And then—
BAM.
A deafening crash.
Metal screams.
But… we're still here.
Still alive.
Still upright.
I blink, pulling my face from his hair. Look up.
And freeze again.
The truck—
Is stopped.
Inches from us.
Crushed.
Crackled.
Steam rising off the hood.
And in front of it?
Lean.
Still in my arms.
Face buried in my chest.
One arm around my neck.
The other arm?
Stretched out.
Hand wide open.
Palm forward.
Fingers trembling.
A faint purple glow still flickering around his skin like embers in the snow.
The metal in front of us is dented. Pushed back like someone punched God in the face.
He stopped it. It's like some God level phonk playing around us!!
He. Fucking. Stopped. It.
"…Vamp," I breathe, still dazed.
"Dude…"
I pull back enough to see his face.
"You— YOU CAN DO THIS SHIT?! WHAT THE FUCK?! THAT WAS COOL AS SHIT!"
I stare at him, eyes wide, adrenaline crashing into awe and confusion and maybe a little bit of inappropriate attraction.
Seriously—he just Scarlet Witch'd a fucking truck with a Barbie body and a wit of 3 years old!
---
🦇 Lean's POV
My head is spinning.
I just saved a truck.
Saved my life. His life. Our maybe-a-life-together-someday life.
And now he's staring at me like I'm some sparkly god.
Which, I mean, fair.
I let go of his hoodie, scratching the back of my head like a kid caught stealing cookies.
"Uhhh… yeah," I mutter. "Apparently, it's a vampire thing."
I look up at him. "It doesn't always happen. Like, it's sort of triggered by emotion or, you know, sudden murder attempts by moving vehicles."
I wave vaguely at the now-dead truck.
"I guess it's the whole 'descended from Satan' power package—super strength, telekinesis, the occasional dramatic wind effect when I'm mad."
I grin, still blushing. "Cool, right?"
He just keeps staring.
---
🐺 Dominic's POV:
Cool?
He says it like he didn't just one-hand a whole-ass murder truck while hugging me like a goddamn romance novel cover.
I'm still stunned.
Still trying to process the way he looked—focused, glowing, terrifying and beautiful.
"Cool?" I echo. "DUDE. YOU JUST WENT AVENGER MODE ON A TRUCK WHILE CUDDLING ME."
He shrugs.
Like it's nothing.
I stare at him, dumbfounded.
And for the first time in a long, long time…
I don't feel like the strongest one in the room.
It's like a Hollywood movie!! He is strong like the movie vampires! Holy shit! Its a real deal! He can be a killing machine if he did have a mind of sociopath and not of a dumb kid!!
I think I blacked out.
Not from fear. Or shock.
Just… from too many emotions trying to crowd into the same mental elevator.
Lean's standing there—glowing slightly like a low-budget Marvel character—and all I can think is:
I want to scream.
And cry.
And maybe kiss him.
And also throw him into a snowbank.
"Cool, right?"
He says that. He says that. Like he didn't just yeet a vehicle off its destiny path of manslaughter with one hand and a blush.
Cool?
Cool?!
I can't even speak. My mouth is open, but my brain's buffering. Like full blue screen of death.
I finally manage:
"DUDE. YOU JUST WENT AVENGER MODE ON A TRUCK WHILE CUDDLING ME."
And he SHRUGS.
Like it's a Tuesday.
Bro. I stub my toe and cry for five minutes. He stopped a truck and is already planning lunch.
And now he's smiling. Like... that smile. The kind that shoots straight into my chest and detonates like a glitter bomb.
My heart?
Not okay.
My brain?
Firing warnings like a security breach.
My pants?
Let's not talk about that.
Why is this vampire so hot when he's powerful??
Why is he blushing blue after flipping a semi like it was a pancake???
Why does he smell like cinnamon and safe and also somehow danger at the same time???
I take a step back. Try to regulate.
Deep breath, Dominic. Deep breath.
"You're fine?," I whisper.
"This is normal. This is casual. This is just your glittery roommate saving your life from vehicular manslaughter with Satan powers."
My inner wolf? Barking. Wagging its tail like a damn golden retriever in mating season.
My actual brain? Tossing up error messages like:
[EMOTIONAL DENIAL FAILURE]
[LUST LEVEL: ILLEGAL]
[CRUSH DETECTED. SHUT DOWN REQUIRED.]
I run both hands through my hair and groan.
"I need to punch something. Or scream into a snowbank. Or get hit by that truck after all."
Meanwhile Lean is STILL looking at me with those dumb sparkly eyes, waiting for praise.
Waiting for me to say, "Wow Lean, you're incredible, thank you for saving me, you're so powerful and heroic and cute I want to die."
Not happening.
Instead I shove my hands in my pockets and say:
"You're such a weirdo."
But I can't even put the usual grump into it. My voice comes out soft.
Too soft.
He giggles. Like I just gave him a marriage proposal.
I'm gonna combust.
Yup. That's it.
Dominic Gray is officially combusting.
🦇 Lean's POV
Okay, okay. We're alive.
Truck's dead. But we're alive.
I'm still recovering from the shock of, y'know, stopping a literal murder vehicle with my brain juice when—
"HEY!"
A voice booms.
Oh no.
The truck driver.
Big. Angry. Sweaty. Red in the face.
He jumps down from the truck, stomping toward us like a pissed-off bull in a construction vest.
"What the HELL were you doing in the middle of the road?! You little shits could've gotten yourselves KILLED! Now look at my TRUCK!"
I backpedal instantly.
"I-I'm sorry!" I stammer, hands up. "We didn't mean to— I-I just—"
But he's already on me.
Before I can blink, he grabs me by the collar—lifts me like a bag of sugar.
My feet barely touch the ground.
"I could've stopped in time," he growls, spit flying, "if YOU two weren't playing hero!"
I flinch, trembling. I've never hurt anyone before. Never punched. Never bit. Never even kicked.
"Please don't hit me—!"
He raises his fist.
And then—
BOOM.
Not from him.
From behind me.
The sound of metal crushing like a soda can.
I'm dropped to the ground as a shockwave blasts through the air.
The truck.
LAUNCHED.
It flies backward, slams into the side of a tree, flips like a goddamn movie stunt, and catches fire.
People scream.
Someone yells, "RUN!"
I whip my head around—
Dominic.
Chest heaving. Eyes blazing gold.
He's standing there, fists clenched, knuckles bleeding.
His pupils are narrow. Inhuman.
His ears look almost... pointed.
His canines longer. His stance wild. Feral.
"Touch him again," he snarls, voice low and volcanic, "and I'll send you flying next."
The driver stumbles. Looks at the flames. Looks at Dom.
Then screams—
"MONSTER!"
—and bolts like his soul just got repossessed.
Even I… I can't move.
What did I just witness?
Dom is strong—sure. But this? This isn't just "gym rat who punches drywall" strong. This is unnatural for a human! Maybe it's his protein that did it!! (Author 👨💻: Yup sure lean ! Sure definitely it's the protein, he can't be a werewolf or any other kind of monster! Yup go on!)
"D…Dom? " I ask, heart still hammering.
He doesn't answer.
"Pu..pup...Pupper? You good calm down I am good!!"
His chest rises and falls. His muscles twitch. His eyes slowly fade back to human.
Sirens wail in the distance.
Fire trucks. Police. People closing in.
"Shit," Dom mutters. "We need to go."
He grabs my wrist.
And we run.
---
👨💻Author POV:
In the distance, high above the chaos—
A shadow watches.
Unmoving.
Unblinking.
A man in a long coat stands on the rooftop of an old bookstore, eyes locked on the two fleeing figures—
one glowing with vampire power,
the other pulsing with something… ancient.
He tilts his head.
"They're not human," he murmurs.
And then he turns, vanishing into the smoke.