I Hooked Up With A Vampire- Now She's Forcing Me To Be Her Girlfriend!

“Are you already falling asleep?” Morgan giggles, brushing my hair out of my face before using her hand to stroke my cheek. We're both led down on my bed, cuddled up under the covers while Interview with The Vampire plays on my laptop. Morgan begged me to put it on, so I gave in. I swear all she watches is vampire stuff.

I grumble in reply and sink further into her, letting her soft body cradle me to sleep.

“Aw, you softie,” she coos, pinching one of my cheeks and I grumble again.

“No—o, I'm not,” I groan, hugging her tighter. “Mm, all mine,”

“That's right, I'm all yours,” she says quietly, giggling again. Her voice is low and smooth, gentle and light. She could talk to me all day and I would listen to it all, just to hear her voice.

“If anyone's soft, it's you- You're like a, a, a soft little flower. Delicate. Fragile.” I mumble, trying to find her face with my hand and gently poking her cheek when I do. Her body shakes with adorable subtle laughter against me.

“Really?”

“Mhmmmm,”

“Then what are you?”

“I'm a… a, uh, a rock.”

“Hm. Fitting, I suppose,”

I make a confused groan, too tired to really speak again. I tried to find something opposite from a soft delicate flower, and rock was the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Maybe it does fit me, I don't know.

“You're your own rock, your own island,” she says, like that's gonna explain anything.

“Whad'ya mean?”

“You're an island. You're alone, I guess. Lonely.”

“You think I'm lonely?” I say, sitting up a little, looking down at her through half-closed eyes.

“Not really, it's hard to explain.” She sighs, running a hand through my hair, which is now matted from lying down and turning around to get comfortable in Morgan’s arms. “I think you're more like a fruit.”

“Original.” I say dryly.

“No, not in that way- well, I guess- but more in the way that… You have to… Ugh, how do I phrase this? In the way you have this tougher outer layer, but on the inside you're soft and sweet- like an apple, or maybe more like an orange,”

“That,” I say with a quiet laugh, propping myself up on an elbow, “is the worst metaphor I've ever heard.”

“I'm not good with words, okay! In my mind it makes sense. You gotta bite past the skin to get to the sweet stuff.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” I say teasingly, pointing to the scar on my neck with a smirk. “And you don't bite into oranges.”

“Not good with words! What I'm trying to say is that you look like a big ol’ grump on the outside, but you're really a giant sweetheart on the inside.” She says with a huff, poking my arm with a sharp claw.

“You could've just said that,”

“Well, I thought we were talking in metaphors!” she groans playfully, “And anyways, how am I a “soft delicate flower”?”

“‘Cause, uh, y'know, you're pretty and beautiful and gorgeous and I could simply stare at you all day,” I say, kissing her cheek and making them turn pink, “But, you can be easily affected by external factors, you're sensitive.”

“So you think I need protecting?”

“No, I don't think so,” I mutter, resting my forehead against hers with a small smile. “I think you just need the right person to help you grow,”