When Ghouls Solve an Emotional Crisis they Dye their Hair

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She was looking up at him with those huge, lavender eyes, the edges of her dark lashes shimmering with tears as she gazed at him. Her eyes were watery, her nose was as red as Rudolph's, but the tears no longer dripped down her face uncontrollably as they had before her impromptu nap. She was straddling his thighs, his hands on her hips simply to steady her as he frowned, feeling her hipbones pressing into his hands. She'd always been thin and small, but never in a manner such as this - how had she lost so much weight in the three weeks since the basketball game? He told himself that he'd worry about that later. Her hands were warm against her chest, and he was sure that he could feel the ridges of her small fingers pressing into his heated skin despite the cotton of his shirt and the layer of fur. He gazed down at her, knowing that he was probably looking at her much too intensely but unable to find it within himself to care.

"I hate that I need you," she says quietly, breaking the quiet air that had surrounded them in the storage room. Her eyebrows crease in the middle. "Why do I need you? I don't want to need you, but it's like when we're not together I don't even want to keep living. Like there's this tug in my chest all the time." She shook her head, causing her hair to swish around her. The usually voluminous tresses were straight and lifeless against her back, lacking the pink highlights she was so well known for.

He didn't want to admit that he knew exactly what she was feeling, because he didn't know what he was feeling meant. He didn't know why he was so drawn to the little vampire on his lap, why his thoughts were constantly consumed with her soft, airy, almost ethereal voice, and sweet smelling scent that was so different from the death and decay smog that usually surrounded other vampires, and those beautiful, beautiful lavender eyes that he loved to get lost in. Loved - did he even know what that means? Is that why he couldn't stand her being kept from him. He couldn't imagine that was the reason seeing as they had only just become close friends, but he'd never felt this way before and the strong emotions that consumed him were overwhelming.

"Is it a werewolf thing? A vampire thing?" She continued, looking up at him as if expecting him to know all the answers to her questions. He wished that he did. Her eyes searched his so desperately.

"I don't know," he murmured, his voice low.

She looked away from him, jaw clenching.

"Hey," he said softly, tapping her chin so that she turned to face him again. Her eyes were guarded now, not as open as they'd been a mere few seconds ago. He didn't like that she was trying to hide from him, even if it was in such a minimal way. He already felt so close to her; he wanted to know everything about her and there was a feeling building in his chest that he didn't understand, but he knew it had to do with the small vampire before him. "We can research. The library here goes back centuries - we can find something."

She snorted. "'Cause I'm sure there have been so many connections like ours between a vampire and a werewolf."

He shifted slightly underneath her as he frowned. "I don't think this is a bad thing."

"Clawd, I don't feel the same about you as I did . . . before Transylvania," she says slowly, refusing to meet his eyes. "I know it's not really your fault, 'cause I pushed you away, but I can't," she cuts herself off as she shakes her head. "I didn't plan to reconcile with you. I hoped that I could ignore you for the rest of high school till you graduated."

"Laura," the hurt seeped into his voice and made it crack halfway through.

"I don't want this," she said, gesturing between them before sighing, dropping her hands into her lap. "Maybe a month ago I would've been ecstatic, but not now - not anymore."

"Let me make it up to you," he begged, his own eyes turning watery. She wasn't just some girl for him anymore, not just his little sister's best friend, and he didn't know when his schoolyard crush that emerged from the diner had morphed into such a burning desire. He wanted to know about her loves and her fears, what made her tick and her pet peeves, what music was the type that made her get up and dance. He wanted to know whether she cried during movies and what her favorite food was. He wanted to know what she looked like when she concentrated and wanted to see her smile a million times a day. At some point, and he didn't know when, what he felt for Draculaura had grown and expanded until it turned into this - this feeling that only appeared for her and her alone. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers and he could feel her shoulders drooping, feel the tension in her body releasing. "Let me make you want me again."

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