Imagine waking up in the middle of the night after sex with Marcel, wondering if you have a future together, and he reassures you.
It was late at night, and for some reason, you were awake and could not go back to sleep. You weren't wearing anything, and neither was your boyfriend, Marcel, who was laying asleep beside you. You kind of wanted to leave the bed, so that your being awake and constant motion wouldn't bother Marcel, but it was too dark for you to find your clothes. You slowly sat up, reaching for the glass of red wine on your bedside table, hoping it would help put you back to sleep. You sighed to yourself sadly as you watched Marcel sleep. You were growing to like spending time with him very much, but you were afraid that you two wouldn't have a future together, or at least, not one that would eventually end well. You were an older vampire than Marcel was. You were definitely ready to settle down with someone and plant roots. You were no longer ambitious. You didn't need to try any new things; you'd already tried everything there was to try. Marcel, on the other hand, hadn't experienced as many things. On top of that, Marcel was the vampire king of New Orleans. His job was definitely dangerous, and it took up most of his time. That meant less time to spend with you. And being king of New Orleans, Marcel had many people who would be willing to be with him, or simply to satisfy him. Being a vampire, he's probably had better than you, and he'd probably get bored of you eventually. You'd only been together for about six months; for vampires, that's like two ships passing in the night, only aligned for a quick moment. You about that knew from experience. As a vampire and a person who'd been through hell on earth, most of your romantic conquests were just that. Conquests. A name in a little black book, and a tally on a scoreboard, in a competition with yourself. You were lost in the darkness of your thoughts, drowning, searching for a lighthouse. That was until, to your surprise, one of the bedside lamps switched on, and Marcel Gerard sat up. "Hey," he smiled. "What's keeping you up?" He asked, genuinely interested.
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"Oh. It's nothing," you shrugged indifferently. "You can go back to sleep." "No, no," Marcel insisted sweetly, holding your face as he kissed you.
His expression then turned serious, as he searched within your deep eyes, searching for answers and begging for trust. "Tell me. I care about what's bothering you."
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