Chapter 3
That vampire's face was flushed red, though it was hard to tell whether he was choking or struggling. Tears spilled from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks.
He was crying.
Sephus slowed to a stop.
Those eyes swept across the crowd, then landed on him.
He looked like a drowning man clutching at the last piece of driftwood.
The vampire reached out toward him.
He was asking him for help.
Sephus stood still.
Two voices warred in his head.
But everything changed when he met those tear-filled eyes.
His feet seemed to move on their own.
By the time he came to his senses, those werewolves were already under his boot.
Sephus turned slowly, staring at the vampire.
He was still sitting on the ground, legs covered in glass shards, face smeared with tears and cream, trembling like a leaf in the wind.
But his bright eyes stared at Sephus as though he were a savior.
"Th-thank you." His voice was small and hoarse.
Sephus frowned.
He turned to leave.
"Wait, please..." he said.
Behind him came rustling sounds, someone rummaging through something.
Then footsteps hurried after him.
The vampire stood in front of him, holding a cardboard box in both hands.
The box was clean, untouched by the chaos. The cake inside was intact.
"This is for you," he lifted the box a little higher. "Thank you for saving me."
His fingers were still shaking.
Sephus looked down at him.
His face was still smeared with cream, his hair resembled a bird's nest, and his clothes were disheveled.
Even his smile looked forced.
Sephus looked away.
"You're a mess. Go clean yourself up." Sephus said.
"Okay," the vampire nodded, pressing the cake into his hands. "I...I'll go right now."
*****
After patrol ended, Sephus didn't go straight back to the castle.
He stood outside the city for a long time.
The moon rose.
He retrieved the cardboard box from his subordinate and opened it.
He took a bite.
The cake was too sweet.
It was sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted in his life.
He wrapped the cake back up and brought it to the castle.
That night he sat in his study, the cake box resting in the corner of his desk. He didn't eat any more, but he didn't throw it away either.
It sat there quietly, giving off a faint sweetness.
Downstairs, the front door opened.
He recognized Carl's footsteps and thought, 'That idiot always makes so much noise when he walks.'
Then came another set of footsteps, much lighter, softer, like a cat padding across carpet.
"Carl, I need to tell you something," that soft voice said.
"Yeah?" Carl asked.
"Something happened at the shop this afternoon... Some wolves came and caused trouble. They smashed the glass."
"What?" Carl's voice shot up. "Who did it? Did they hurt you?"
"No, no, don't worry." The voice rushed to reassure him. "Someone helped me."
"Who?"
Two seconds of silence passed.
"Sephus."
Upstairs, Sephus's fingers paused.
The silence downstairs stretched longer.
"...He?" Carl's voice turned strange, the tone unreadable.
"Yeah, he happened to be passing by." That soft voice carried a hint of a smile. "He chased those guys off. He's actually pretty nice."
Sephus thought, 'Pretty nice.'
Sephus lowered his eyes to the half-eaten cake on his desk.
'Idiot,' he thought.
It was unclear whether he was cursing the vampire downstairs or himself.
Sephus leaned back in his study chair, opened the cardboard box, and picked up the piece of cake.
He took a bite and chewed slowly.
Sephus thought, 'Too sweet.'
Moonlight streamed through the window, falling on his silver-gray eyes, revealing nothing.
Bite by bite, he finished the entire piece of cake.
He even tipped the crumbs at the bottom of the box into his mouth.
Then he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
It was the next morning.
When I woke up, it was already bright outside.
"Still mad?" Carl's voice was coaxing, his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth.
I turned my head away, ignoring him.
"Really mad?" He leaned closer, nose nuzzling my cheek.
I buried my face in the pillow and mumbled, "Why were you... angry last night?"
A moment of silence passed.
"Just... wasn't happy."
"Why weren't you happy?"
He didn't answer, but wrapped his arms around me from behind, lips pressed to the back of my neck, and said vaguely, "You're mine."
"...Of course I'm yours."
"Good." He tightened his hold. "So don't praise other people in front of me."
I froze.
Praise other people?
Who did I praise?
Was it what I'd said last night, that he was "actually pretty nice"?
I was speechless.
I opened my mouth, then swallowed the words. "Okay. I won't."
He looked at me for two seconds, then smiled, leaned down to kiss my forehead, and rolled out of bed. "Come have breakfast with me."
"I don't want to move..."
"I'll carry you."
"I don't want you to carry..."
He'd already pulled me out from under the covers.
He scooped me up in his arms.
The dining room was on the first floor.
When Carl carried me in, Sephus was still there.
He sat on the left side of the long table, breakfast laid out in front of him.
His blond hair was tied neatly back, and he wore a dark gray shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. He picked up his knife and fork to cut into his steak.
He looked up and glanced at me.
Carl set me down in a chair, sat beside me, poured me a glass of milk, and picked up a piece of beef.
"Eat this." He held the cut beef to my lips.
I glared at him.
I heard a sharp crack.
A sharp crack rang out.
I turned my head.
Sephus's plate had shattered.
My heart sank.
He really did hate vampires.
This was all Carl's fault.
I thumped Carl under the table.
But Carl didn't react. His gaze was fixed on Sephus, the playful expression gone, replaced by something I couldn't read.
The atmosphere felt wrong. I quickly grabbed my plate. "Um, I'll go eat upstairs."
Downstairs, only Carl and Sephus remained.
Carl crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair. "Sephus."
Sephus lifted his eyes.
"Stay away from him. He's mine." Carl added.