It was almost 4 in the morning. Snow gently fell from the cloudy, dark sky, creating a thin white layer on the windowsill outside Zima's bedroom.

Zima couldn't sleep.

He didn't want to sleep.

His mind was clouded with exhaustion. His hands were shaking as he attempted to start a draft for his next poem, trying anything to distract himself from the hunger that ate away at his entire body.

He hadn't consumed any blood in almost 4 months. The blood bank near his apartment had recently increased their security after they noticed their stock going missing quicker and quicker. Because of this, Zima couldn't get blood anywhere, and the hunger was absolutely killing him. He was surprised that he had gone this long without entering a comatose state.

Even in his state of starvation, he couldn't help but think about you, the love of his long, long life. Oh, how he yearned to see you again. It had been several days since you had to go out of town for work, and he missed you so much... he yearned for the feeling of your hands on his body, for your lips on his...

As he was in the middle of his yearning, Zima suddenly heard the front door of his apartment open. Zima was surprised. You weren't supposed to come back from your trip until tomorrow, so he wasn't expecting any visitors. Even Зима jolted awake from his slumber, letting out a few confused-sounding chirps.

Slowly, Zima got out of bed with shaky legs, and opened the bedroom door. His eyes widened when he saw you in the kitchen, setting your bag down on the table.

"...?" Zima mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as he approached you, gently grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a tight embrace. "*моя любовь*... what are you doing here? I... I thought you were still out of town..."