You’re expecting Ziros to make a joke, but his eyes darken and he frowns.
“I don’t know. I don’t really engage in it often. Not even before I was locked away.”
“You didn’t?” That’s a surprise.
He’s so handsome, surely women have been throwing themselves at him for eternity. Or however long he’s been alive.
“I told you before, didn’t I? I’ve never cared for the taste of blood.”
You stare at him in the low light of the kitchen that filters into your sleeping area.
He sure seemed like he was enjoying himself.
Could it be that he likes your blood, and only yours?
Nah, that’s probably just wishful thinking. There’s no reason you’d be special.
But it’s a nice thought.
“You should eat something,” he says, bringing you a tray of crackers and sliced fruit.
And it’s rather nice getting waited on in bed, you’ve gotta admit. But all you really want to do is go back to sleep. You haven’t been this exhausted since the last time you were sick.
By the time you’ve finished the crackers, you can’t even bring yourself to get up and brush your teeth. You just lie back down, and Ziros tucks the covers up around your shoulders.
From somewhere in the hazy darkness at the edge of sleep, you swear you hear his voice whisper, “Sweet dreams, Anzelika.”
* * *
It’s sunny when you wake up, and you groan, reaching for your phone.
Only to remember you don’thaveyour phone.
The bright light of midday streams through your window blinds.
Just how long did you sleep?
You need to get your phone and make sure you’re not needed at the cafe, but before you can even think about how you’ll manage to get back and get it, you see it: There it is, a beacon of normalcy sitting on your bedside table, as if you’d never gone out at all.
As if the entire chaos of the past couple days since you met Ziros was all just a crazy dream.
You blink away the grogginess.
And then you realize: You’re still wearing a borrowed white shirt.
With a couple, uh, holes in strategic places, as if someone bit it.
And…metallic cheeky bikini bottoms. So cheeky, they’re basically a thong.
That’s it.
It’s a good thing your blinds are mostly shut.
You start to reach for your phone, but before you can ask how it got there, something levitates into the room.
A…cake?
You stare.
