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‘What do you mean “I don’t know”.’ Walker looks at me like I’ve sustained a recent head injury.
‘He’s got a little something something.’ I bite my lip and wink.
‘If by something you mean decaying lungs and gingivitis, then yes, I’m certain he has double,’ he snarks and looks back to the screen.
‘He’s… sweet. In his own right.’
‘He’s a bloodsucking leech.’ Walker motions to the laptop with evident distaste.
‘Oh, and you’re so perfect, Haunty-Pants?’
His eyes close for a second, and I can practically see him gathering all the patience he hoards in his ethereal body to answer, ‘I told you to stop calling me that.’
‘And I told you I wouldn’t. Live with it,’ I say, crossing my arms over my chest. ‘Haunty-Pants,’ I tack on.
‘What is it about him exactly that you find attractive?’
‘Why? You taking notes?’ I waggle my brows.
He deadpans, and I concede around a mouthful of popcorn, ‘The inhaler is cute.’
Walker’s brows pinch and his lips pucker like he’s just sucked a lemon. ‘You’re attracted to his chronic asthma?’
‘No.’ I shake my head. I consider my words before speaking, although I’m still not entirely sure Walker could be capable of understanding me when we are both just so very different. ‘I’m attracted to the fact that he’s not perfect. A lot of immortals put on this façade that they’re better than everyone just because they have more time. And maybe they are, I don’t know the metric on worth, but I’ve been watching VVV for a while now and yes, he did murder the rest of his family line and ate his last three assistants, but Vlad wears his heart on his sleeve.’ I shrug. ‘It’s sweet to see. Not many immortals are like that.’
The green in Walker’s eyes looks like a star bursting as he contemplates me.
‘And his other wives?’
‘Word is he eats them just as regularly as his assistants. No complaints there.’ I waggle my brows and throw and catch a piece of popcorn with my mouth.
‘You know you’re part of the problem, right?’
‘Just part of it?’
We settle back into silence for the majority until the main event arrives. Vlad is about to dance with both women while they’re dressed in full Presley getup. Stacey P goes first. ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’, rings out. A little too on the nose for my liking.
‘Do you know how to dance?’ I point to the screen.
There is a dramatically long pause and sigh before Walker says, ‘Yes.’
Hm.
‘Would you—’
‘No.’
‘I didn’t even finish—’
‘No.’
‘What if I—’
‘No.’
‘Fine.’ I cross my arms again and settle back into the lounge. ‘I won’t ask again. I’ll just sit here and watch them get to do what I never could. Did I ever tell you why I’ve never learnt to dance formally? Yeah, it’s actually a very sad story. I’m not sure if you know this about me, but you see, I’m an orphan, and at the orphanage…’
*Approximately six minutes later*
