Eddie is different. Sure, he always has been - but this is something unlike any other quirk of his, or weird interest that he hyper fixates on - something about him is inherently different ; and has been since that night. At first you thought it was stress, which, it would be weird if what happened to him in that place didn't make him feel like his world had been shifted out of gear.
But it's the look in his doe eyes that have turned them into mirrors of hunger, unusually dark, onyx even. Something swirls beneath the depth of his irises, burns in the pit of his belly when he kisses you and has to stop himself from bruising your mouth.
It's the newfound sense of roughness where softness once was. The nipping of your skin, the way he inhales the scent of your flesh like it's something to be devoured; and maybe it would've been different, if he hadn't gotten carried away.
If instead of kissing your inner thighs, he pierced the soft flesh with hot irons where his teeth should be.
If maybe you were hallucinating, or dreaming, when a crimson scenery began to trickle down your knees and soak into the sheets of his bed. If he hadn't licked every stream like a man starved.
If maybe when he looked up at you, equally as horrified as he was enthralled, maybe you wouldn't have to figure out how to navigate life with a vampiric boyfriend.