"THUMP!" Charles fell heavily onto the bed, panting.
"I told you to be gentler. Look, they're torn. I ought to take a file and grind those fangs of yours down. These are a new textile from Spider Island, and they're very hard to come by."
Lying in Charles's arms with flushed cheeks, Anna looked sorrowfully at the tattered stockings in her hands.
"It's no use. I've tried sawing them off myself, but they just grow right back."
"Can't you just harden your heart and pull them out? You're not a Vampire; you don't need them for sucking blood," Anna said, nestling her head deeper into Charles's chest.
Charles lowered his head and kissed Anna's hair. "Speaking of which, Anna, do I still have that mirror that turns me into a bat? I might need it for the next expedition, since we're heading for the exit to the Earth's surface."
