Dies Irae

“No more. You need to promise,” He looked at me, completely serious.
“You know I need to kill people to live, right?” I crossed my arms.
“Why do you have to be such a difficult child?” He asked.
“Why do you have to be such a difficult adult?” I mocked.
“I’m sorry Mercy but you need to adjust.” He pulled the keys out of the ignition.
“So do you Sid.” I opened my door and got out.
On one of the days when we first started living together he explained some things to me. At the age of 26 he still acts like a kid, when he was 24 he had gotten married. Just two months after they were married, his new bride died in a car accident. And technically they had started the adoption process before they were married.
If anything I kept him together, I made sure he kept getting off his computer and that he’d keep taking breaks from work. He mostly wore jeans and white tees, he had brown hair and green eyes. It was unique and it matched his personality. He was like an older brother.
“Did you make any friends?” He abandoned the past conversation by the time he joined me in the dining room.
“I should ask you the same thing,” I rolled my eyes, pulling out a thick purple journal.
“Just answer the question,” He sighed.
“Well, there’s this girl who thinks I’m a diary.” I thought of the best way to describe Bec.
“I qualify that as a friend,” He put his hands up, not going to fight anything.
“But I don’t like her back,” I shrugged, finding a pen.
“Don’t be stubborn.” He pushed me lightly.
“You should take that advice yourself,” I nodded, this was a daily thing we did.
“Oh shut up,” He picked me up, something that A) Was easy for him to do, and B) Something I hated.
“Put me down!” I struggled.
“Stop being a nerd then,” He smirked.
“I have zero problem with biting you,” I threatened.
“No biting,” He put me down.
“I have no problem with it,” I shrugged, feeling the point of my right fang.
“You promised that you wouldn’t bite me.” He pointed out, something that I clearly remember doing.
I had promised that the moment he found out.
“Yeah yeah,” I crossed my arms.
The memory reel of when I carelessly walked through the house flossing; how perfectly Sid came out at the exact moment that I was perfectly showing my fangs.