Dominic's POV:
Finally. He's done babbling.
But… look at him. He's curled up on my damn lap like a scared millipede. Face buried in my chest. He's trembling from ears to toes.
Am I that scary?
If he's scared, then why the hell is his clingy little ass still on me?!
Anyway. I guess I have to do the talking now.
"Agh—okay, listen. I am mad at you. Like, super mad. But I didn't mean to scare you like that. It's just—look, I went through hell on that date, then stormed in and found you running around the apartment with a smoking pan like a loose crackhead!"
(I mean, he is a crackhead.)
"And then you kept nagging and flapping around, and somehow my rage just exploded on you."
I groan. Why am I even trying to explain things to this guy?
"Just—don't cry over sappy shit like that. Grow up, dude! You're a man. A vampire! You're literally born dead! Your heart doesn't even beat!"
But of course, he's not even listening. I'm trying for a deep talk here—and this guy's wet Bambi eyes are back. Quivering lips, sniffly nose… a whole damn tantrum loading.
Goddammit.
Something's off.
Not with him.
With me.
I've never worried about anyone like this before. But this idiot? This snot-bubble producing, pan-exploding idiot?
He's making me worried.
What the hell is happening to me?
---
Lean's POV:
He spoke.
He spoked like freaking Antonio from Merchant of Venice. Dramatic and confusing and heartfelt.
I didn't get a word.
But I think he's not that mad anymore.
Still mad. But not, like, stabby mad.
"I made you cry!" I wail. "I'm a bad monster!"
And I start sobbing again. Like a broken sprinkler. Why am I like this?!
---
Dominic's POV:
Yup. There we go again.
Tears, snot, the full waterworks. Soaking my shirt—the shirt I specifically picked out for a hookup, forgot to change, and now it's getting baptized in vampire mucus.
Wait. Hold up.
"You think I cried?!"
What the actual hell.
"Those weren't tears, dumbass! You threw turmeric and cinnamon in chili oil—or whatever the hell you tried to cook. My corneas nearly combusted!"
His eyes widen.
And he starts crying more.
What the fuck.
This is it. This is my life now. I have been emotionally hijacked by a crying undead raccoon.
Yes I am dumb and dead and done with life fucking with me more than I could fuck a girl!
Life, please use some lube next time you fuck me!
Lean's POV:
He called me a fool.
I am a fool.
But wait—does that mean…
"So you're not, like, super mad at me?" I ask, blinking up at him with soggy lashes and my most tragic anime face.
He sighs. "Yes, I'm mad. But not to the point where I'd weep like a child."
Relief.
Like a weight lifts from my chest.
Without thinking, I hug him again. I wrap myself tighter, burrito-style. Face buried in his chest. One leg probably over his thigh. I sob quietly, then softer… and then…
Sleep.
It's warm.
It feels like home.
I haven't felt this safe in years.
Dominic's POV:
And he's out.
He just sobbed himself to sleep. Right there. On me.
Drooling, too. Because of course he is.
Let's see:
Tears? Check.
Snot? Check.
Drool? Triple check.
Pee? Pending…
He's so damn clingy. Like a leech. A very emotional, fluffy leech.
And the scariest part?
A teeny tiny part of me doesn't… hate it.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I'm exhausted. First baby sitting this guy! Then boring lecturesi never signed up for, the Football match I aced. Hookup I bailed. Kitchen apocalypse. And now this clingy, dramatic bloodsucker passed out on me.
I can't move. I dare not move.
He's gonna wail if I break his sleep.
Guess I'm stuck here.
I am gonna pass you myself!
---
They both fall asleep like that—on the couch. Lean curled like a little bat-kitten in Dominic's lap, head resting on his chest. Dominic, too tired to care, slumps back, one arm falling across the backrest… the other? Gently wrapped around the vampire without even realizing, His head thrown back on the couch!