Daniel sat on Mia's worn-out couch, a chipped mug of coffee cooling between his palms. The little apartment smelled like cinnamon and old books. Mia sat cross-legged across from him, her arms folded, her sharp brown eyes pinned to him like she was trying to peel away all the things he wasn't saying.
"So," she said, voice too light, too forced, "tell me about your... friend."
Daniel smiled weakly. "Lucian."
Mia nodded, eyes glinting. "Lucian," she repeated, like the name tasted bad in her mouth. "How long has this been going on?"
Daniel stared down into his cup. "Three months."
Mia sucked in a sharp breath. "Three months and you're only telling me now?"
Daniel shrugged, feeling suddenly very small. "I didn't know how to bring it up."
"You could have started with, 'Hey Mia, I'm seeing a bloodsucker,'" she snapped.
A heavy silence stretched between them. Daniel knew she was right.
Mia finally broke it. "So you're... what? Sleeping together?"
Daniel flushed but forced himself to nod. "Yeah."
She stared at him like she didn't even recognize him. "And he feeds on you?"
Another nod.
"Jesus, Danny." Her voice cracked on his name. "Do you even hear yourself?"
Daniel lifted his gaze, feeling the words pressing against his teeth. Words he couldn't say. That Lucian's blood was thrumming inside him even now. That it saved him. That it tied him to Lucian in a way he didn't fully understand, only felt in his bones.
Instead, he said, "It's not like you think. It's not all the time. He's careful."
"Careful?" Mia laughed, a brittle, broken sound. "Daniel, vampires don't care about humans. They keep us around because we taste good, because we're convenient, because they like the way we scream. That's it."
Daniel swallowed hard. "Lucian's different."
"They're all different at first," Mia said sharply. "Until they're not."
Daniel rubbed a hand over his face, exhausted in a way that sleep never seemed to fix. "I'm not expecting anything," he said, trying to sound casual, trying to sound like his heart wasn't breaking a little just saying it aloud. "I'm not looking for forever."
Mia studied him, her jaw tight. "So what, you're just letting him use you?"
"I'm having fun," Daniel said, but it sounded weak even to him.
"Fun?" Mia leaned forward, her voice a fierce whisper. "Fun is hooking up at a party. Fun is dating a guy who texts you back. Fun is not letting something that drinks blood put its teeth in your neck, Daniel."
He flinched, but Mia wasn't done.
"You know why I hate them," she said, voice trembling. "You know."
Daniel's chest ached.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I know."
Mia's eyes shone with unshed tears, but she blinked them away furiously.
"My father," she said, the words spilling out like a wound reopening, "left us when I was seven. He said he found something 'greater.' Someone greater. And you know what that was? A fucking vampire."
Daniel said nothing. There was nothing he could say.
"He let her feed on him," Mia went on, her voice cracking. "Over and over. Until there was nothing left. Until he was a ghost walking around. He couldn't think. Couldn't even remember my name some days."
Daniel reached across the couch, touching her hand lightly. "Mia—"
"And when he finally died," she hissed, yanking her hand back, "they said it was his choice. His choice to give himself to her. So no one did a damn thing. Not the courts. Not the police. No one."
Daniel closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said, and meant it with every fiber of him.
"I can't watch it happen to you too," she whispered.
"It won't," Daniel said firmly. "I'm not… I'm not like your dad."
Mia studied him, her gaze sharp, hunting for weakness.
"You've been more distracted," she admitted. "But you don't look sick. Not yet."
Daniel smiled a little. "I'm eating well. Resting properly…Also, the blood Lucian takes is not much."
Mia sighed heavily. "You know the signs, right?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Pale skin. Fatigue. Weight loss. Memory issues."
"Good," Mia said. "Because if I see even one of those signs, I'm dragging your ass to a hospital, I don't care what you say. And then I'll look for that fucking sharp teeth and make him regret hurting you."
Daniel laughed, and the sound felt good. Real.
"Alright."
Another silence fell, but this one wasn't quite as painful. Mia was like a sister to him. Neither had siblings, but they were lucky enough to grow up next to each other. Mia knew everything about him…well, almost everything.
Mia leaned back, crossing her arms. "I still don't like him."
"I know."
"I don't trust him."
"I get it."
She looked at him, so sad and fierce all at once. "But I trust you."
"Thank you," he said softly.
Mia huffed, like she couldn't believe she was letting him get away with this, but a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"Just... be careful, okay?"
Daniel nodded. "I will."
They talked a little longer, about nothing important—movies they wanted to see, the dumb things their classmates said, the old lady upstairs who still thought Daniel and Mia were secretly dating. It was almost like old times.
But when Daniel stood up to leave, Mia hugged him tight, tighter than usual, like she was afraid he might slip away if she let go.
"Text me when you get home," she said gruffly.
"Promise."
The night air was cool against Daniel's skin as he walked home. The city buzzed and hummed around him, but everything was muffled out by Daniel's thoughts about Lucian. His little studio apartment was dark when he pushed open the door, the air inside too still, too empty.
He showered, changed into clean clothes, lit the cheap lavender candle he kept by the bed.
And he waited.
He sat by the window, watching the streetlights flicker.
But Lucian didn't come.
The hours dragged on, long and heavy, until the world outside his window blurred into the dark gray hush of early morning.
Daniel pulled his knees to his chest, resting his forehead against the glass.
He tried not to wonder where Lucian was.
Tried not to wonder why he hadn't come.
Tried not to feel like the cold seeping into his bones wasn't loneliness, sharp and brutal as any wound.
But he failed.
And somewhere deep inside, a tiny, terrified voice whispered: Maybe Mia was right.