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I thought that being a vampire would be, like, cool, you know? I mean, not at first, when I realized that I had no reflection and could rely on never getting a tan again my entire life. But after that, when I started getting more demonic and snacking on the fashionably challenged. If I kill everyone who wears seafoam green, then it's like it never existed on the human body.
I was right, mostly. About how cool it is to be a vampire. But it's just like...the first time I fall in love, and it has to be now, when I'm more sensitive than ever because of my vampiricness. Is that even a word? Whatever. Anyway, I had to fall in love with a guy still in love with some loon back in Europe, where he has yet to take me. I fell in love with a demon with almost no heart at all, and what heart he does have all belongs to her. Dorcas. Or whatever.
I know that he liked me; probably even cared about me. But my baby could be so...mean to me. He would throw me against walls, and yell at me like I was...help. But I still stayed with him, up until the point when he left me.
We met at a party. A vampire party, I mean. I'd been vampy for about two months, and I was with this one scummy vamp guy named Greg, with roving hands, you know? Like all over me, as if I was his property because I decided to live in his lair for a while. And suddenly, I see this guy across the room. This guy with short blond hair, and cheekbones that you could cut glass on. He was wearing what I found out to be his only outfit, this black t-shirt, red silk overshirt, tight black jeans, and unremovable duster ensemble he has going on; not that it matters with his sort of long, thin, muscular body. I went over to the punch bowl-well, blood bowl-and got a cup full, and that's when I noticed his blue eyes. Not that I ever got an A in English, but I can describe him like I live on an adjective farm. His eyes were like cold blue steel, and his skin was as pale as milk, with veins running all over him, like blue snakes under his skin. He was a hottie, you know? As Cordy, my old friend from my human days at Sunnydale High would say, he was like a tall glass of yum.
Anyway, Greg came up to me and started groping me, and while I was struggling to get away from Mr. Hand-friendly, the guy by the punch bowl came up, grabbed Greg away from me by the roots of his badly dyed black hair, and pulled Greg's face close to his own.
"Don't you know," he stated in a low, icy voice, "that when the lady says no, she means no?" Then he punched Greg in the stomach and left him crying on the floor like a little man-girl. Turning to me, he smiled with his fangs, his game face retreating to show blade-like cheekbones and eyes that were all dark promises. "Would you care to go out for a drink?"
I died! Again, I mean. The accent, this gorgeous beast-guy asking me out? He was a big sweetie love muffin from the beginning. And he was mine.
I took his hand with a smirk, and turned away from all the hissing females staring at me with jealous eyes. I'm used to jealousy. I was popular.
So, we took off from the party, then went out and surprised a sixteen year old virgin. I'd never shared a meal before, so I didn't know what a rush it could be. Afterwards he took me to his hotel and throughly ravished me.
After that, we were inseperable. I told him all about my life before, you know?"grr." Death or whatever. He told me all about Buffy. You know, how she's the Slayer and all? Like, no wonder she was so weird. I mean, I always knew she was a freak, but this is a whole new level of freakdom. And she tried to kill my big blond teddy bear? She must be stopped. Especially with that hair.
I was lucky to get a guy like him. For one thing, he's, like, really old, and I'm just a fledgling. Not that I'd ever let anyone order me around...besides Spike, anyway. And even that I'm not going to put up with anymore. I have my limits.
But I know that, if he comes back to me? And asks for my forgiveness? I'll do it. Forgive him, I mean. Because I still love him, no matter how much of a self-absorbed jerk he can be. He's my cuddlekins, you know?
So what if he doesn't take me to Europe. So what? I can be an indoor kitty.
And it's not all that important anyway, being happy.
Right?
