Vampire Next Door ⋆⟡⋆ Miguel O'Hara x reader

Ch. 8 About Last Night °✧*:･

(Miguel's POV)

I wake up splayed on my living room couch. My ears ring, skin tingling, buzzing at me, trying to tell me something. I feel her eyes on me.

She's sat at the kitchen counter, looking at a pile of blueprints.

I don't get hungover; my genotype won't allow it, but I suppose it's had worse shit mess with it. I stand up slowly then walk towards the counter, to her.

"Good morning, Y/N."

"Good morning, Mig."

"How did you sleep? How was the bed? Are you hung over?"

"I'm good, I'm fine," she smiles up at me, softly. It gives me that feeling in my chest.

She looks down, her brows knit together.

"Last night was something, huh? Quite an eventful night," she nods, looking down at the prints, avoiding my stare.

"It was..."

"I'm sorry, I– I shouldn't have come onto you, I mean you were drunk and I–"

"You're saying it like it was a mistake..."

"No– I mean yeah well, I pulled you into me,"

"I cornered you in the closet– it's on me too, Y/N... did you not... mean it?"

"You were drunk, Mig, you didn't mean it."

"What didn't I mean? How would you know?"

She pauses, tilts her head.

"After the party, you walked me back, that stuff you said, it was the alcohol. You were drunk."

"I uhh put a happy face on your final paper," I exhale as we drag our feet back to our corner of the apartment building.

"Do you ... remember that?" I ask.

She looks up at me, nodding, softly smiling. She looks back down.

"Yeah, hm, that fed my delusions for quite a bit."

"You weren't delusional. I saw you,"

"How? I sat in the way back, Mig."

"I liked the way you wrote. I liked to read you, liked the way your mind worked. Still do."

"Are you drunk?"

"I am ... but I still mean what I say."

Her eyebrows furrow, then soften up with a smile. Wish she believed me.

"That doesn't mean I didn't mean it,"

"We just met, Mig, and I just, I wanted it to be real."

"Everything I said was true. Did we not go to the same university? I knew who you were, I read you, and it felt like–  I knew you... Where is this coming from? What did it mean to you, huh? I wasn't asking for your hand in marriage–"

I wince at my words.

She slowly gets off of the stool.

"Yeah, it was a mistake," she mutters, reaching for the door.