(3.3) A Date with a new title naming convention cause the Author said so

Chapter 3, Part 3

As I headed into the bedroom, I told Alexis to sit down while I tried to find some clothing that was made of cotton. It took a good bit of rummaging, but eventually I managed to track down some sweat pants and an old shirt. I chuckled at the images on the shirt. The front had a picture of what, from behind, looked like and old-school pervert in a trenchcoat flashing a bystander while the back revealed that the bystander was actually being stuck up by six or seven small aliens with ray guns.

Apparently, I hadn’t been quick enough for Alexis’ liking. When I came back into the living room, I found her asleep on the sofa. It looked like she had been sitting on the couch’s armrest when her extreme bathroom antics had finally caught up to her. As it was, she had her legs thrown over said armrest while the rest of her lay halfway on the couch, her head and one of her arms dangling off the side.

She was snoring.

I hadn’t, until that moment, known women who possessed the sheer amount of hot that she did were capable of making such annoyingly-amusing sounds.

I sighed, staring at her for a moment before deciding that I should get her into a proper bed. I moved over to her, slinging the spare clothes over my shoulder and picked up her sleeping form. Gently. GENTLY! I cautioned myself. Yeah, she’s practically invulnerable but dropping sleeping people is just bad juju. I got her properly settled in my arms, though it wasn’t easy, and then she did the thing. You know… The thing that all sleeping girls do…

She nuzzled me.

And whimpered.

Christ I hate that.

After I got her into the bed with the covers pulled over her I started to leave. It had been a long day and I wanted another drink. I didn’t really get to enjoy my last one, what with her barging in and trying to kill me.

Twice.

I stopped outside the door to the bedroom thinking about the resourcefulness she’d shown in the small amount of time that she’d been in my apartment. It was at that point that I decided to go back into my room and remove anything and everything that a scared vampire could use to beat, cut, slice, maul, maim or otherwise ruin my, if I may say so, perfect vampire body.

Shut up. I’ve been alive for 500 years and I still get carded at bars. I’m allowed to be vain.

I almost ran out of room in the closet for the plethora of improvised weapons that I found. This means one of two things, either I’m just really paranoid, or I need to consider re-decorating. After I felt satisfied with my work, I used my air wall spell to seal the closet door, heading immediately to the kitchen where I thought I heard my booze calling my name.

Turns out, it wasn’t. I was just really thirsty.

A few minutes later, I was sitting on my couch, sipping on my drink staring at Alexis’ wallet. It wasn’t soon after that I decided to blink. However, when I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in my apartment anymore. I wasn’t even myself anymore.

I was him.

I was my sire.