VII. The Sunlight

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Sebastian's first step seemed to be in slow-motion, and suddenly he was standing inside, making her apartment shrink in size with his considerable height. 

He closed the door behind him, and Lucy watched as it shut. 

"Tea?" she asked, walking into the kitchen in order to occupy with something other than his presence. She'd always felt something for her classmate, even though she'd never really interacted with him before. It was a sort of draw, a curiosity. She guessed it was well-warranted now. 

"No, thanks."

She popped her head out of the kitchen. "Can you...even ingest anything other than..." she grimaced as she said the next word, "blood?"

"Same as you trying to ingest blood," he said, snooping around her apartment, trying to gauge who she was from it. The first thing he spotted and really took notice of was a book resting on her coffee table. He moved closer and picked it up.

"Dracula," Sebastian read with a wry smirk. 

"Oh the irony," Lucy remarked from the kitchen. He didn't hear the kettle at all, or the microwave, so as a creature of curiosity himself, he wandered over to the kitchen's doorway and looked in. 

The drawer was open and she was staring down into it. He peered closer. The knife drawer. 

"Planning on stabbing me? Is silver for werewolves or vampires?" he asked nonchalantly. 

"No," she said smally, her voice far-away. Sebastian wondered if she was in her own world again. He wondered what that it like there. "Wondering what would happen if I just...pricked myself with one."

A brow rose again on his face. "You sure you want to test that?" he asked.

Lucy shook her head and looked at him, seeing that he was still holding Dracula in his hand. "Are you going to laugh at me now?"

"No," he said, laughing even as he denied the accusation. He was glad for a lighter subject change. He held the book up and put the cover next to his face. "What do you think? Any resemblance?" The cover held a grotesque painting of a vampire. 

"Hmm," Lucy pondered. "You know, I think you're more akin to Nosferatu. Yeah, now that I mention it, I can see the family resemblance."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Funny." 

It was easier to insult him than admit that she found him eerily one of the most attractive men she'd ever seen in person. 

"Will you be disappointed if I tell you Dracula and Nosferatu are purely fictional?" Sebastian asked, leaving to replace the book on the coffee table. He heard the faucet run, and then the kettle begin, glad that she had moved past the knives. 

"How will I ever live?"

Sebastian sat on her couch in the middle cushion, his hands together between his thighs, his torso resting forward as he looked around. 

Lucy looked out of the kitchen to keep an eye on him and found his pose so utterly human. He looked like a harmless boy her own age, sitting like that. Her heart ached. 

He could hear the change of her heartbeat, and he looked up to meet her eyes. His lips quirked upward in a small smile as she ducked back into the kitchen, where she could pretend she was safer. 

He wouldn't hurt her, would he?

Lucy looked down and remembered the blood splattered on her. How could she forget? It had rubbed off of her arms, but it was still on her shirt. She bit her lip. 

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