The man, the vampire, whatever you want to call him, grabbed my shoulders and held me still. His smile wasn’t nearly as big as it was previously and his eyebrows pulled together over his hazel eyes, which I noticed looked rather… worried. I bit my bottom lip, staring up at him as his hand came to land on my shoulder, sliding up to the crook of my neck. I winced as his fingers pressed onto the two parallel marks in my neck, still bleeding.

“Oh, shit.” He murmured and pulled his arms back to himself quickly, his hands going up to his neck. He carefully unwound the red and black striped scarf there, balancing it on my shoulders, and looking up at me hesitantly, as if he was afraid. I don’t know what reason he would have to be afraid of me now, as he just saved my life, and I’ve obviously been injured, but he looks afraid and his hands are much more hesitant as he lets them land on my forearms and lift me up.

“Shit?” I ask, beginning to shake as he places his hand on the small of my back, pushing me slowly out of the alley. “Shit, shit? What is that supposed… am I going to be okay?” I whisper, and my hands lift up, beginning to tug the scarf away from around my neck. He brings his arm up, his hand grasping mine tightly at first. He looks up at my face, and then sighs, letting my arm go.

“Yeah.” He says softly. “Yeah, you’ll be fine, mostly.”

Mostly?

I bite my bottom lip, feeling tears springing to my eyes. Mostly? How can one be mostly okay? When it comes to terms of ALIVE and DEAD there is no in-between. There is no mostly, there is and there isn’t. You are one of them, or… you aren’t. There is no such thing as a ‘half-vampire’, or a ‘mostly-vampire-but-not-really’. There is just vampires, and humans.

“Hey, is she okay?” A softer voice asks and I look up, and smile. Because he looks a lot less scary. He’s not exactly small, taller than I am, and he has a certain roundness to him. But his mouth is pulled back in a worried smile and his eyes look kind. He reaches out to take my arm, pulling me away from the other. “Are you okay?” He asks me this time.

“He said I should be mostly fine.” I repeat, looking back at the other, who smiles nervously at the one holding me now.

“I figured, but are you… you know… okay?”

I pause, and bite my bottom lip. I want to scream, “NO. How COULD I be okay?!” But, I don’t. Instead I offer him a smile, awkward smile and then look down. “Yeah,” I say, slowly, unsure of myself, and I’m suddenly aware of the way my body aches. “I’m fine, I’ll be okay.” I tell him, and I feel his hand slide to the small of my back, ushering me forward.

“That’s, um, good.” He nods awkwardly, and I look behind me. The other is following behind us, shooting dangerous looks in every direction. His eyes find mine again and I shiver, making myself pull my eyes away from him.

“Where are we taking her?” He says when I find my eyes back on the ground again, and there’s a long pause before the other one answers.

“The church.” He says after awhile and I fidget. I don’t like churches, but if I have to, I will. Something tells me that I’m not getting away from these two, tonight. I bite my bottom lip, shutting my eyes and imagining how the situation would turn out. The imaginary me jerks out of the one who is holding my arm’s grasp, and the imaginary me begins to run away. But it’s like a nightmare, because I can feel it, that if I run, I’ll find… him.

I keep myself wrapped up in these thoughts, though, these thoughts of him. Those haunting, hazel eyes, the way they paused and widened when he grabbed me, the way he let his lips press into my skin gently if only for a moment. I squeeze my eyes tighter shut and shiver, because that’s so dangerous. Thinking like that.

I’m snapped out suddenly by a sudden pain, starting where he bit me and erupting through out my body. It’s not really a sharp pain, not like being stabbed or being bitted, but an ache in my bones and on my skin. I try to pull back, my eyes opening and looking around.

We’ve just stepped onto the grounds of the church and I feel panicked. Both of them are holding my arms now.

“Fuck.” The one on the right, the one with the hazel eyes, murmurs, and the other one looks at him, his eyebrows drawing together over his blue eyes. “Fuck,” He groans again. “Fuck, she’s his.”

My breath stops, and they pull me forward.