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"How would you like to be trapped in eternity with me?"
"…Trapped, you say."
"Well, I'm trapped. But if we were together, wouldn't that be better?"
It is far too late at night for this.
"Now, what do you say?" Seiji’s fingertips start to smoke where he’s holding the doorframe.
Shuuichi brushes them away none too gently and shuts the door firmly.
He hasn't invited that eye-patched creature of the night in, and right now, it's going to stay that way.
Being stalked by a vampire is more of a chore than anything else. He’ll conveniently forget his parasol (again? really?) to bully Shuuichi for his hat. Then all the while, he’ll grumble about its unfashionable qualities.
“Just give it back already.”
“Trying to get rid of me?”
Shuuichi scoffs. “If only. I know it’s not so bad.”
For Seiji, it seems that the sun is but an inconvenience. But he does have a special sunblock. He often forgets that too.
“How nice. You do notice things about me.” Smugly as ever.
He tries again. “So, can I have my—”
And another thing:
Shuuichi watches his hat take off through the sky, carried away by a bat.
After the first few times, the novelty has worn off. But it’s still kind of amazing.
“Who let you in here?”
“Not telling.” Seiji’s smile is as sharp as a knife. Shuuichi had to turn around to see it. The fact of the mirror is especially disconcerting.
“But I’ll have to send them something nice. What do you think? Flowers? Sweets?”
“I’ll burn them.”
“A threat?” He sounds far too delighted at the prospect.
“If you’d like.” Because he’s curious.
“You know what I’d really like…” Seiji leans into his space, crowding him against the vanity. Shuuichi steels himself. Seiji’s fingers brush his throat—whisper-soft, though the cold still bites.
“Won’t you join me?”
Outside, someone calls for him.
“I can’t.”
“You’re no fun.” He steps back and Shuuichi feels his heart rate return to normal.
But Seiji’s smile is one of self-satisfaction, as if he knows it’s only a matter of time before his victory is assured.
Would it be so bad? The thought worms its way into Shuuichi’s mind. He can’t quite shake it out.
He locks Seiji in the dressing room. It’s only temporary. After all, a locked room is nothing to a vampire.
“What a fevered mind you have, Shuuichi.”
“…Quiet, you.”
“Of course, I am more than happy to make your dreams come true,” Seiji purrs. His teeth—were his canines always so sharp?—find Shuuichi’s jugular to a resounding yelp.
And then, well—
Matters progress.