creatures of the night (vampire!matty x reader fluff)
once again, promptober. you find out the truth about the guy you're seeing. enjoy <3
the lift dings, wrought iron doors sliding open silently; if you weren't so preoccupied by the heavy cast-iron pot in your arms, you might've been impressed at how easily they moved, far more so than their shuddery modern counterparts. usually, you hate lifts, a combination of the rickety movement and your own claustrophobia preventing you from even setting foot in one, but this one is alright. maybe it's the smoothness it moves with, or the alluring glamour of the old building, or the fact that it's your only known option for going up other than the fire escape, and you'd rather not have the rain ruin your hair.
or maybe it's the fact that it leads to matty's place.
the mere thought of him has your cheeks lifting into a stupid grin. yeah, it's probably that.
the lift dings again, doors opening to penthouse level. stepping out, you wish you had a free hand you could fix your hair with - it's the least you could do to make yourself presentable before seeing your… well, whatever you and matty are at this point. you haven't kissed him yet (although you really, really want to), but you've gone out with him a few times, and things are good. promising. headed in the right direction.
well, you wouldn't be heading to his flat to surprise him with soup after he cancelled a date due to illness if they weren't, would you?
shaking your head in a probably poor attempt to make your hair look like it's effortlessly cascading down your back (but the hours you spent curling it would say otherwise), you turn down the short hallway towards matty's front door, attempting to readjust the pot in your arms so you can ring the doorbell; it proves to be impossible, so you resolve just to put it on the ground.
and that's when you notice it - little droplets of what is unmistakably blood, leading from about halfway down the hallway, right up to matty's door. which, you also notice, is slightly ajar.
fear pierces your skin, turning your veins to ice. he's bleeding? why?
careful not to disturb the blood, and thanking whatever higher power might exist that you didn't wear white shoes, you pad up to the door, fear becoming replaced by concern with every step as you notice the droplets getting bigger, like matty's begun bleeding more profusely the closer he got to the house. breathing slowly, you shimmy through the open door - like the lift, its hinges are well-oiled and silent - and follow the trail of blood round the familiar route towards the kitchen. a sort-of strangled moan breaks the silence and urges you to move faster, towards your seemingly pained… whatever matty is.
only, when you turn the corner into the kitchen proper, you find he isn't in pain at all. or, for that matter, anything like you thought he was.
instead, he's hunched over the sink, mouth latched onto a clear plastic bag full of dark red liquid, completely shotgunning it. streams of the liquid - you can't bring yourself to call it what it is - pour down the sides of his mouth, onto his hands and the definitely-expensive t-shirt he's wearing; somewhere in the back of your mind, you hope it doesn't stain the lovely hardwood flooring.
what the fuck? that's what you're worried about? flooring? after just discovering that your potential boyfriend is a vampire? you ought to get a grip.
ironically, it's at that exact moment that you lose it - of the pot, that is. it goes crashing to the floor, somehow miraculously staying upright, and the sudden noise sends matty in the opposite direction in surprise. “jesus christ!” he looks up, bloody mouth falling open and eyes - red, you notice - widening in shock. neither of you speak for a second, and your mind throws up the advice from the pro-vampire PSAs you all watched in high school after they made themselves publicly known in society: vampires are of no danger to humans. vampires will not attack humans, unless provoked while hungry or feeding.
well, fuck. you need to get out of there. now.
without breaking eye contact with matty, you step backwards. he blinks, then speaks. “sweetheart, i can explain-”
“no, no, it's fine,” you hear yourself say, in a surprisingly steady voice. “i'll leave you to it. if you could just, y'know, get the pot back to me once you're finished with it, thanks,” you speed up your backwards walking, throwing your arm out in front of you when matty moves to follow; whether in a wave goodbye or a gesture for him to keep back, you've no idea. “have a nice… night.”
once you're around the corner, you run, faster than you think you've ever moved before. the living room mostly passes in a blur, aside from a quick stop by the couch when you almost slide on the blood, and before you know it you're back at the lift - which, horrifyingly, is back at the ground floor. heart racing, blood running cold, you press the button once, twice, a third time out of complete desperation, before shakily whimpering “fuck!” and running around the hallway to look for another exit. surely, surely, there must be some sort of fire door, a stairwell - you'd think a vampire of all things might need a means of making a swift exit from burning flames.
matty, a vampire. you can't quite believe it.
that is, until he materialises beside you, just as you're attempting to wrench open a door hidden beside the lift. “darling, please…”
“no,” your voice is a broken sob, a noise that turns into a full-on wail when what you thought was an exit turns out to be a cleaner's cupboard. when you turn to leave, matty's standing there, blocking you. “please just let me go.”
“no.”
you wail even harder, crouching to the ground. “please,” you cry. “i can't do this.”
“sweetheart, i'm not going to-”
“no. i can't do small spaces like this,” you sniffle. “i'm going to be sick if i stay in here any longer, i mean it.”
matty's brow furrows. “are you freaking out because you're… claustrophobic? more than you are because of, well, me?”
you nod, silent tears streaming down your face. his - still bloodstained - softens as he moves aside. “oh, darling. let me help you,” he reaches his hand out, pulling it back abnormally fast when you recoil; your heart sinks a little bit when you see the sadness on his face. “of course,” he steps back, same pace as you. “sorry.”
“thank you,” pulling yourself up, you step out into the hallway, immediate calm flooding through you as soon as you leave the cupboard. in the fluorescent light, the blood - well, you assume it's that plasma stuff you can buy in the shops now - on matty's face is an even stranger sight, and you don't quite know what to say. “you're quite a messy eater, huh?”
he chuckles, and you smile at the familiar sound. “s'pose so,” almost shyly, he picks at the neck of his shirt. “this might be ruined now.”
“nah. put it in a bucket of cold salt water and let it steep before you wash it. good as new.”
the brow furrows again. “and how do you know that?”
you smile awkwardly. “well, i was born with a uterus, sooooo…”
“right, yeah, of course,” matty clears his throat, and you hold in a giggle about his discomfort. “m'really sorry i scared you, darling.”
“why didn't you tell me before, y'know, that you were a,” you gesture wildly, unable to say it. “v-word?”
he smirks. “because i'm not a virgin, sweetheart.”
“fuck off, you know what i meant,” you roll your eyes. “did you feel like you couldn't trust me?”
“no, no, not at all,” matty shakes his head, vehement. “just didn't wanna freak you out, y'know? but i s'pose that backfired.”
“matty…”
“i really am sorry. honest,” his eyes are fading back to the brown you find so pretty; something lights inside you when you notice the old adoration in them. “this isn't how i wanted this to go, not at all, but… i really care about you, darling. i need you to know that, i really do, because it's partly why i didn't tell you before now,” he holds out a bloody hand, and you take it without thinking; the cold and wet aren't so bad, really. “i feel so normal around you. well, normal isn't the right word, because i truly don't feel the same about everyone else as i do with you - more like ordinary, like i'm just a boy with a massive crush on a girl who's too good for him, and not… well, a monster. and i think i just wanted to keep that feeling a little while longer. does that make sense, kinda?”
sweet boy. nodding, you bring his hand to your lips - matty winces when your lips make contact with the blood substitute, but you don't react. to be honest, it's not terrible. “you have a massive crush on me?”
he nods, the motion accompanied by a small smile. “i do. sorry you had to find out this way.”
you shrug. “at least i know now,” tentatively, you move to stand in front of him, bringing your free hand to rest on his cheek; matty exhales as you do, nuzzling into your touch with a tenderness that makes you beam. “i'm not seeing anyone else, you know.”
one pretty eye opens. “just me?”
“yeah,” you stroke his cheek with your thumb. “just you getting my affections. and my soup.”
matty giggles, and you genuinely question why you were scared earlier. “you were very sweet to bring that over, by the way.”
“can you even eat it?”
“i mean, it won't really make a dent in my hunger. but it's vaguely satisfying at the time.”
you nod knowingly. “like mcdonald's.”
“exactly,” matty pauses, then snorts. “i say that like i ever ate it as a human. well after my time, that one.”
leaning back, you squint at him. “wait - how old actually are you?”
“seventeen.”
“don't you dare quote twilight to me, healy.”
“sorry, sorry,” matty grins, bringing a hand up to cover yours on his cheek. “if you'd like to come in, i'll tell you all about me. probably best if you're sitting down, to be honest.”
“alright,” looking over his shoulder, you wince at the blood smeared all over the hallway. “d'you want a hand cleaning up first?”
matty glances back, wincing too. “if you wouldn't mind, darling.”
you nod. “i'll get the bleach.”