Liam didn't sleep. He never really did.
But the night after seeing Alex again — after hearing those words leave his mouth, soft and deliberate, "If you ever bite me again… be gentle next time" — sleep wasn't just absent.
It was impossible.
He paced the length of his bedroom, the floorboards creaking under his bare feet, the taste of Alex's blood still haunting his mouth. It had faded days ago — physically. But the memory of it pulsed behind his teeth like a second heartbeat. Sharp. Familiar. Addictive.
He hated that.
He hated how much he wanted it again.
It wasn't just thirst.
It wasn't even lust.
It was need.
Something deeper. Something primal. A chemical anchor to the person who had let him get so close.
Too close.
He ran his hand through his hair, standing at the window, watching the treetops shift in the dark. Mist wrapped the rooftops like silk. Somewhere, a fox barked in the distance. The world was quiet.
Except for him.
He felt like he was burning from the inside out.
The next day, Harper was waiting by his locker.
Her arms were crossed. Her expression unreadable. Her eyebrow ring glinted in the pale school lighting.
"You look like hell," she said.
"Thanks."
"Did you feed?"
"No."
"Liam."
"I'm fine."
"You're twitching."
"I'm fine."
Harper squinted at him, then stepped in closer, lowering her voice. "You saw him again, didn't you?"
Liam didn't answer.
Harper stared. "You did. Jesus."
"It wasn't like before."
"What does that mean?"
"He didn't run."
Harper blinked. "Wait—he forgave you?"
Liam nodded, barely.
Harper stared at him like he'd just told her the sky was made of bones. "He forgave you. After you bit him."
"I didn't hurt him."
"You bit him."
"It was a mistake."
"But now you're what — seeing each other? Holding hands in the graveyard? Whispering sweet nothings under the bleachers?"
Liam sighed.
Harper's face softened, just slightly. "Liam… you're losing control."
"I haven't touched him since."
"But you want to."
He closed his eyes. "Yeah."
"And that's the problem."
Liam leaned back against the locker, tilting his head up at the ceiling. "He asked me to do it again."
Harper's jaw dropped. "What?"
"He said… if I ever bite him again. To be gentle."
Harper went silent. Utterly, completely silent.
Then: "He's insane."
Liam didn't argue.
"He has no idea what you are."
"I think he does."
"No," she said, stepping closer. "He thinks he's falling for some dark and edgy boy with secrets. He doesn't know you're a walking death sentence with a pulse."
"I don't kill people."
"Yet."
Liam turned to face her, jaw clenched. "Don't."
"Then tell me what you're doing, Liam. Tell me what the endgame is here."
"I don't know," he said, voice low. "I just… don't want to lose him."
Harper exhaled. "You already did. The second you bit him."
Liam didn't answer.
Because part of him wondered if she was right.
He avoided Alex during first and second period.
Not because he wanted to.
Because he had to.
Being around him now felt like standing next to a fire when you were soaked in gasoline. Every look, every brush of skin, every flicker of breath made Liam feel like he was unraveling.
And worse — Alex noticed.
Liam could see it in his eyes when they passed in the hallway. The confusion. The tension. The way his fingers curled slightly like he wanted to reach out but didn't.
He looked… hurt.
And that killed Liam more than hunger ever could.
It was during last period gym when everything fell apart.
They were supposed to be playing dodgeball. Liam didn't usually participate, but the coach had insisted. And Alex — because of course the universe hated him — was on the opposite team.
Harper gave him a look from across the court. Stay calm.
Liam nodded once.
The whistle blew.
The game started.
It was fine at first. Liam dodged. Duck. Throw. Breathe.
But then Alex moved across the court.
Liam's focus broke. His eyes followed the curve of Alex's body as he twisted out of the way of a flying ball — that quick grace, that bright grin when he tagged one of the jocks in the side.
And then it happened.
Another guy — too fast — hurled a ball that hit Alex right in the ribs.
Hard.
Alex dropped with a grunt.
Liam didn't think.
He just moved.
He was across the court in seconds, faster than anyone should've been, kneeling beside Alex before the coach even realized someone was down.
"Alex—" His hands hovered. "Are you—"
Alex blinked up at him, dazed. "I'm okay."
"Where does it hurt?"
"I said I'm fine."
But Liam didn't move.
He could smell it again.
Blood.
Not much. Maybe from his elbow. Maybe a split lip. Liam couldn't see where. But he smelled it. Sharp. Copper. Fresh.
Run, something in his mind said. Now.
He didn't.
Harper reached them a second later. Her hand gripped Liam's shoulder — too hard.
"Now," she hissed.
Liam stood.
His eyes didn't leave Alex's.
But he walked away.
Barely.
That night, the woods were colder than usual.
Liam sat on a fallen log, hands trembling. He hadn't fed. Still. The thirst felt like a scream in his bones now. And still, he refused.
Behind him, leaves crunched.
He didn't have to turn to know who it was.
Alex.
"How long were you gonna avoid me?" Alex asked.
Liam didn't answer.
Alex stepped closer. "You ran today. Like I was the problem."
"You're not."
"Then what is?"
"I am."
Alex knelt down beside him. "You're not a monster."
"You don't know what I've done."
"Then tell me."
Liam turned his head. "Why aren't you afraid of me?"
"Because when you bit me, I saw your face."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you looked terrified."
Liam's throat closed.
Alex leaned in, voice low. "You don't scare me, Liam."
"You should."
"Maybe."
They sat in the dark. Quiet.
Then Alex added, "You don't have to be alone in this."
Liam looked at him.
Really looked.
And for the first time, he realized Alex meant it.
He wanted to stay.
Liam's control broke for half a second.
His hand reached out — barely brushing Alex's wrist.
And Alex didn't pull away.
But they weren't alone.
Not anymore.
Unseen, deeper in the trees, something watched them.
Breathing.
Smiling.
Waiting.