Alastair

My hair does not agree with vampiric matter. It's dull today. I look at a strand before sighing.

"I'm hungry," Liam complains.

I roll my eyes. "We have food here. Go in the fridge and heat up some blood."

He does a half hearted barrel roll in the air, laying on his back. "I want fresh food! You always stop me from hunting and it's not fair."

"It's because you're a messy, irresponsible child," I scold him, pulling him down from the air harshly. "And how many times have I told you not float near open windows?" I close the curtains, showering us in darkness.

"I'm convinced you'll do anything to make eternity hell and it is draining," he yawns. "You have so much negative energy, Alastair you need to realign your chakra's."

What the Devil is he talking about? I roll my eyes. Ignoring 95 percent of what Liam says is necessary for one's sanity.

Crucial, more like.

"I'm hungry," Eleanor calls from the bedroom. She leans against the doorway, one of my old shirts barely covering her.

Exquisite. Her hair is mused, like strokes on a canva deliberately curled strokes.

"We have blood in the refrigerator,"

She furrows her brow. "I want something fresh. You our me through hell this morning," she yawns, her breasts heaving as she does.

She blinks frowning at me. Ah...she's demanding. And she knows there's nothing I won't do for her. Spoiled rotten, corrupted.

Inspired truly.

"Fine," I beckon. "What are we having?"

"A young man," Liam and Eleanor chime.

I roll my eyes. "Such picky creatures I associate myself with. I'll not have you let all that blood go to rubbish—"

Eleanor approaches me, adjusting the lapels of my coat. Her lashes hide those obsidian eyes but I know they're there.

Soft and sharp all at once. Just like her.

Her soft lips turn up. They're gorgeous. Brown and pinks and so kissable—

"Alastair," she calls gently, looking to at me.

I nod, "Yes, my love?"

She paused. "Don't...you ever try to hurt yourself again. Especially not in front of me."

I smile. "Yes, my love."

She touched my hair. "A bit dull today."

I nod. Very. But I think some colors getting back into it. After all, my dearest Eleanor is here and I am a man in love.

A creature in love.

She looks away from me, her skin heating. "Well go in then. I'll starve by the time you're done staring."

"I'm never done staring," I wink, grabbing my walking stick. "I'm off."

Eleanor watches me leave, resting all her weight on one leg. "Happy hunting."

"And you don't find his affections off putting," Liam asks as I close the door.

"Hm...it's like when cat beings you a dead bird. It's his best. He just wants to give you a gift even if most people find it odd."

"I love how that didn't answer my question," he remarks.

I smile.

Dead bird indeed.

My Eleanor prefers dark haired men, and Liam prefers Light haired men. I'll met in the middle with a red head.

I stalk the streets of New York. Someone young, fit and full of blood. It'll have to do. I've grown weak off old blood. It's a trade off.

Power for peace.

"You're looking thin,"

I pause. That voice. So I wasn't mistaken.

I turn around. "You truly are the most accursed of the devils creatures to have the gall to show your face to me."

He grins. "And what a beautiful face it is, Alastair. Have you been well? Keeping good company?"

I would kill him. But I won't even waste my energy trying. I'm unkillable and he's even older than me. It's fruitless.

"Leave here, Samuel. Do not disgrace yourself further. Though I cannot kill you, I can rip peace froM your grasp, as you did from my beloved."

He fades away. Blends into the crowd. He'll be back. He never leaves. Always breathing my shoulder from a distance. In his mind, I am merely a pet on a leash. An animal he's allowed out for a walk.

He owns me, in his mind. I am his belonging, and he longs for me. It's not pure. It's not natural. Not right.

Not like me and my Eleanor. Not true.

His love is for that of a possession. A toy you occasionally share but who bears your name etched in its plastic skin. So everyone knows who it belongs to.

Nevertheless, I don't concern myself with the delusions of a pervert. I've found a good target and he's jogging towards the woods.

Perfect.