My Roommate Is a Vampire

by Jenna Levine

headline from the Chicago Tribune about a bizarre string of local blood bank break-ins—and then started typing.

Sus

Do let me know when you have redecorated. I would very much like to see some of your work.

When I think about Cassie never returning to me it makes me sad. Waking up in the evening isn’t exciting anymore now that I know I won’t be seeing her face.

God i love hopeless romantic vampires

I planned to watch a few episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Not me watching buffy while reading this

“Over the past two weeks I’ve discovered that in this city of millions, you are one of a kind.”

“Do not downplay your talents,” he said, scowling as though the idea of me selling myself short was offensive to him.

“Amelia,” he said, laughing. “You have got to talk with Cassie’s new roommate.” Sam’s words distracted me completely from my anxiety over talking with Amelia and David, catching my attention as effectively as a record scratch in a quiet room. Alarmed, I turned to look at Frederick, whose wrist was in Sam’s iron grip. He was staring, wild-eyed, down at his shoes. Before I could ask what was going on, Sam turned to me and said, delighted, “You never told me Frederick was such a big Taylor Swift fan.” I choked on my sip of wine. “I’m sorry,” I said, once I recovered. “But . . . Taylor Swift?” Frederick shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I . . . might have mentioned a few things I knew about Taylor Swift to some people in the kitchen.” “A few things?” Sam laughed again and shook his head. “Don’t be so modest. Your knowledge of her 1989 era is encyclopedic.” I had to stifle a laugh in my palm. “Is that so?” “It is!” Sam gushed. “Like I was saying, Frederick—you need to talk with Amelia. She loves meeting other Swifties, especially when they’re people who don’t fit the usual stereotypes.”

I love this also 1989 tv soon

“Who did this to you?” His voice was low, but urgent. “What happened?”

“You are not a failure,” he said firmly. “Anyone who made you feel like one will have me to deal with.”

“Close your eyes, Cassie.” His tone brooked no opposition, his stern insistence touching some raw, primal part of me that was helpless to do anything but obey. His free hand cupped my cheek, gently tilting my face upward so he could look at me more clearly. Suddenly, it felt like all my nerve endings centered right where he touched me.

“What is this black substance you have used to paint your face?” His voice was quiet, curious, as he tenderly wiped away the remnants of my mascara with his handkerchief. His face was so close to mine I could feel each of his shallow exhalations of breath on my skin. “I’ve not seen this sort of cosmetic before.”

or being able to fly, or turning back time,” he continued ruefully. “Unfortunately, all I can do is somewhat involuntarily conjure fruit when I’m nervous.”

got it for him at Disney World,” Reginald had explained. “But I told him I chopped off a werewolf’s head so I’d sound tough.”)