Frank doesn't want to hurt his best friend and is battling his vampire instincts. Luckily they can get (barely) enough blood for him. But what will he do when his new friends are thirsty?
"Uggh, yeah?" I groaned still half asleep. I barely ever get slept and when I do I always get woken up.
"I'm really sorry, I am, but..." he trailed off. I already knew what he wanted. I tried to tell mysely I should get ten more minutes of sleep, but I really didn't care about sleep. I rolled over to face him, then opened my eyes to perfection. His flawless pale skin shone in the moonlight. He genuinely looked sorry, his concern made me smile. His inky black hair brushed against my face as I sat up.
"Frank, no reason to be sorry. It's just sleep."
"That's exactly why I'm sorry. Liz, you really do need sleep, even if you aren't tired." By now I was completely awake. I rolled my eyes at him. Sometimes he worries too much. Especially at times like this.
"You look really thirsty. Are you sure you dont want to-"
"No." Frank hasn't drank straight from my neck since that night. That night he accidently took too much. I'm not mad at him, not at all, I let it go, but he beats himself up about it every night.
"Frank, I'm fine, I like it better that way anyway."
"I-I just-I just can't." he said, looking down in shame. He knew it hurt when he cut the skin instead. But he was terrified that he'd lose control over himself. That he'd go into a frenzy and drink it all. I know he wouldn't. He isn't like that, he controls his urges, and he never kills anyone. I lifted his chin up back up gently.
"It's okay. Where from?" He thought carfully, then took out some rubbing alcohol and cleaned the inside of my elbow. He looked into my eyes. 'I'm sorry' was written all inside of his. He brought his mouth to my elbow and grazed his razor sharp canine across the sterile skin. I junped a little at the sudden pain and winced. He quickly licked it and the pain was replaced by pleasure. He took out a large canteen and held it to the cut as I bled into it, the whole time he held my hand.
I was starting to feel a little weakened, but I kept my grip on his hand. If I let go he'd seal the cut and he wouldn't get as much. He needs about three glasses a day (Author's Note: 1.5 pints. One pint is supposed to be the amount people may donate at blood drives.) and so I wanted to bleed out at least two pints, maybe two and a half. I couldn't help it, about four minutes later my grip weakened slightly.
"$h*t." he said surprised. He licked the cut again and added rubbing alcohol. I felt the stin of the chemical reaction and refused to react. "I'm really sorry Liz. I didn't mean to take that much."
"Please, calm down. If it was too much I'd of said something." I assured him softly.
"Liz, knowing you, you'd black out before you'd zsay it was too much." he snapped back in frustration. I concentrated on watching him instead of watching my arm heal at an alarming rate. For some reason, just the right amount of vampire saliva mixed with exactly the right amount of rubbing alcohol makes it heal like that. Frank isn't sure why he's just glad it works like that. He thinks it might be me blood type, that or his saliva. By morning it would be as if it was never there. There won't even be a scar. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, it's just...I dont want to hurt you." he said sadly. I hate it when he gets like this. I feel so bad that I can't help him. He needs blood and it makes him feel like a monster.
"Frank, Frank look at me." He reluctantly looked into my eyes. "You don't hurt me, Frank. Ever. And there is no way I'd rather trade my life for any overrated normal life." He hugged me and I hugged him back with all my might. "Anyway, drink up, we've got stuff to do." I said smiling reluctantly.