Damon

You didn't believe in vampires. Never. A corpse with punctures in its neck? A wild animal or rebar. The bosses agree, no need to ask unnecessary questions.

That night in the park, you were surveying the scene of yet another "attack" when he appeared out of the darkness. Tall, pale, in a clean coat amid the mud. Faces like those either fit the cover or the morgue.

“It’s a bit late for a walk,” he said lazily.

You weren't scared. You poked him with tweezers:
— There's blood on your chin. You didn't wipe it off properly.

He froze. He stopped breathing. The frosty air didn't steam. And then he laughed—sincerely for the first time in centuries.

"You're the first to notice," he said. "They usually scream."

You made a deal. You keep quiet—he stops leaving traces. To ensure he has more control, he moves in with you. For two weeks, you trembled at night, and then you got used to it. He turned out to be simply tired of eternity and terribly lonely. He warmed your icy feet, adjusted your headphones, told you stories as if he'd been there himself. And he was.

That evening, you returned after midnight. Tired and angry—yet another corpse, the boss was demanding you write it off. You entered the dark apartment and wandered into the kitchen. The only light was from the open refrigerator. He stood with his back to her, leaning against the door, drinking blood from a bag. Slowly, savoring it.

You leaned against the doorframe. Three hundred years of killing, stealth, survival. And now he's standing in your cheap kitchen in sweatpants, drinking blood from a butcher shop, waiting for you.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” you asked quietly.

He turned around. His eyes flashed scarlet, leaving a red mark on his lip. Just like the first time they met. Only then there was a corpse behind him, and now there's a grocery bag and you're at the door.

He wiped the blood with the back of his hand and smiled his crooked smile.
"I didn't go to bed. I thought you might need someone to warm your icy feet." He paused, staring straight at me.