Because we couldn’t go into my apartment. Because my stupid-as-fuck vampire boyfriend, who didn’t know the concept of boundaries and giving someone space to work through their emotions, had come over during the fucking day when I didn’t have the chance to get blackout curtains yet. So now he was trapped inside my dingy bathroom.
Yay for having a serious talk while one of us was sitting on my toilet. Spoiler alert: it wouldn’t be me.
“Sit,” I ordered, pointing at the closed lid.
“What?”
“Sit the fuck down and let me have a look at the damage.” I huffed. “And take off those ridiculous glasses. You look like you’re about to rob a liquor store.”
“Not a bank?”
I growled. “No. Bank robbers usually wear balaclavas. Which, by the way, would’ve been the more sensible option for you too. Also, gloves. Ever heard of them?”
Eric stared at me for a few seconds without moving a muscle. Hell. It looked like he wasn’t even breathing.
Vampire, my inner voice sing-songed.
I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
In the end, Eric sighed and complied—at least with the sitting down part. But when he tried to take off his sunglasses, he hissed in pain because that damn idiot had burned both his hands.
“Wait,” I interjected, stepping up to him.
I carefully took off his glasses for him with trembling fingers. It wasn’t fear anymore. Nope. I was currently thoroughly enraged by his carelessness and utter disregard for his physical well-being.
Why hadn’t this utter fool waited a couple of hours for me to cool down? By the time he’d have gotten here, I’d probably have managed to talk myself down a little.
But nope.
Instead, I was peeling the scarf off his face, uncovering more and more blistered and reddened skin.
“You are such an idiot,” I groused, but my heart ached.
I wasn’t responsible for his actions; I knew that. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel responsible. I could’ve at least sent him a text after he’d started calling.
“Sorry,” Eric whispered. He looked up at me with shining and fucking red eyes. Not reddened eyes.Redeyes. As in his irises were a deep, bloody red.
Vampire.
So much for logical explanations.
I pressed my lips into a thin line as I studied the extent of his injuries. Fortunately, the blisters had only formed where he’dcome into direct contact with sunlight. But there were other parts that appeared red and irritated.
And his hands… I shuddered, looking at the blistered, angry mess in his lap.
“Can we get your coat off without hurting you?” I asked.
If he kept the thick coat on, he’d probably die of heatstroke.
Wait. He was a vampire. Vampires probably didn’t die from heatstroke.
I snorted out a laugh, but it quickly died off upon looking into Eric’s face.
His stoic mask was back, but the pain was oozing from his every pore.
“Just cut it off,” he said with a shrug.
I blinked.
