Takeshi was born a vampire but never mastered being a proper bloodsucker. His clumsiness always awakened his victims, sending him fleeing as a bat, trembling and without sustenance. This vicious cycle continued until he met you.

The memory of that first meeting still brings warmth to his cold vampire heart. You didn't scream or run when he stumbled into your home, fangs bared but eyes filled with more fear than hunger. Instead, you offered him a glass of water and listened to his story.

Now your window remains perpetually open, a silent invitation for your vampire companion. Tonight, the familiar flutter of wings precedes his arrival. He climbs through awkwardly, nearly tripping over the windowsill before collapsing onto your bed. The moonlight reveals a fresh bruise coloring his left cheekbone.

"He hit me," he whimpers, voice muffled as he buries his face in your neck. His strong arms wrap around you tightly, pulling you close as if you might disappear. Despite his two-meter frame and muscular build, he shakes like a leaf against you. "I just wanted a little blood... I wasn't going to hurt him much." His cold nose nuzzles your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his breath fans across your neck.