#vampire!maka

She swept in and was at the windows in less than a blink, yanking his curtains closed. Shutting the door, he watched her pace his tiny studio, the ruffled hem grazed the tops of the back of her thighs as she climbed down from his kitchen counter, the rising sun just hidden behind the recently shut blinds. Content that no light would leak into the apartment, she finally turned to him, her pale cheeks less pearly than he had ever seen before. Was this her version of a blush?

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Sure,” he replied, bewildered. “But why are you here?”

“Oh,” she said, her mascaraed eye lashes blinking rapidly. “I needed to get away from the light and I caught your scent so I thought I’d try. I can go. I’m sorry I intruded.” She awkwardly circumvented him, keeping her hands in front of her in a peace gesture.

She thought he was afraid of her.

“No,” he grabbed her wrist as she passed by him. She stared at the hand wrapped around her wrist, as if it wasn’t her limb in his grasp, but some who she had only a vague interest in.

Soul let her go abruptly. “You can stay. I was just wondering- hey wait you caught my scent?”

Maka’s cheeks grew pearlier. “I picked it up, uh, the other night in the club.”

The night they met. She mistook him for a muse, she had said. Her fangs glinted in the pulsating strobe lights of the club as they ascended into her gums. The packed club forced them to stand chest to chest as she apologized profusely for dragging through the throng of people by the neck. She was close enough to count her freckles, her cold hands tight on his shoulders.

Close enough to memorize his scent, he guessed.

“You can stay here for the day if you want.”

“W-what?”

“I have to go to work, but you can stay here and… do you sleep?”

“Yeah, thanks!” She sat on his bed, the springs creaked under her weight as she bounced, testing the mattress. Apparently satisfied, she lay down on her side. Her dress gapped on her chest and her hem crept up her thigh.

“Nice dress,” he leered.

Maka glared at him and snatched up his blankets from the foot of the bed. “I had a meeting. There’s a dress code.”

“Vampires have meetings?” he asked skeptically, moving towards the door, his keys in his hand.

“Yes,” she snapped primly. “We’re not werewolves.”

She didn’t elaborate.

He paused before closing the apartment door. The question burned in his throat. “What’s it like?”

She sighed, her eyes green slits against her pale face.