Happy June 1st, The 1975! In celebration of The 1975 day, have a little snippet of the vampire fic! All of the vampire brain rot has been so extremely real, and I am so excited to start sharing this one with y'all! (And thank you so much to everyone who has been so supportive of this new obsession!) It's still rough and things are subject to change, but I'm excited so here it is!
Matty knew that George was a vampire, he had known since they met in school, Matty bombarding him in the hallway, cornering him with a sly grin and a so I heard you played the drums. Everyone knew that George Daniel was a vampire, that his entire family was made up of vampires, that’s why he was weird, and quiet and kept to himself, more interested in books than people. It’s why he had to lather himself in sunscreen even in the English gloom before going outside. Matty, painfully human, had been fascinated by him, and getting him to join his band?! It was the perfect excuse to get closer to him, to get to know the boy with the pretty eyes and porcelain skin that he wanted to lick every inch of.
But looking at him now, Matty couldn’t help but notice that he was so much more. Sharp, angular features, and while George had always been pretty, there was something about him now that seemed unworldly. Matty didn’t know if it was because his own senses had been heightened, his body settling into its new normal, its new existence. He didn’t know if he could actually, finally see George for what he truly was, which was perfect or if it was because he was looking at George sober for the first time in ten years. He didn’t know which was worse, that he had spent so many years blind or that he had spent so many years inebriated that he didn’t even realize that his best friend looked like he had been carved by a renaissance artist.
“Matthew,” George said with an exasperated sigh, oh Matty thought, having been lost in his own lust filled thoughts, George had been speaking this entire time. “Are you even listening to me?”
Matty would have flushed if he had any excess blood left in his body to do so, instead he just shivered, he liked the way his name, his full name sounded coming from George’s lips. He wondered if that was another new side effect of his condition. Everything sounded clearer, sounded richer, and it made his spine tingle. He needed to listen to music, he realized, sitting up so fast that it made him feel dizzy, pain prickling along the side of his neck. He reached up without thinking about it, touching the bandage at his throat, wrapped around his neck where George had ripped into his jugular, saving his life even as he took it for his own.
George swallowed hard, and looked away. “Does it hurt?” he asked instead of whatever he had been going on about before. “I can get a nurse—”
Matty snorted, “George,” he said calmly, “they’re not going to give me anything for it even if it did.”