The day stretched on slower than Alex expected. He found himself pacing his apartment, the quiet thick around him. His mind kept drifting back to Alice and Rosalie—their shared laughter by the river, the teasing glances, the rare comfort he felt in their company. He wanted more of it. More than fleeting moments where life felt weightless.
On impulse, he pulled out his phone and started typing, careful to keep it light:
"Hey you two—the reigning chaos queen and the calm in the storm—how about hanging out? Maybe grab food or just do something that doesn't involve rivers or rusty books?"
He almost deleted the message, second-guessing himself, but hit send. The replies came quickly. Alice, quick with a flood of emojis and "Count me in!"; Rosalie, in her measured way: "Sounds good. We'll see how much trouble you cause."
He smiled, a little thrill of anticipation spreading through him.
That evening was cool and clear. When Alice and Rosalie arrived, Alex greeted them with a crooked grin. "Figured I'd finally make it official and invite you both to my humble inn."
Alice bounced on her toes, radiant as always. Rosalie, arms crossed, offered a subtle, genuine smile. "There's a first time for everything," she teased.
They found a tucked-away diner that buzzed with low conversation and the smell of strong coffee and fries. Inside, their energy settled into a comfortable rhythm—banter about music and movies, Alice elbowing Alex when he claimed to know better classic jazz than Rosalie, laughter coming easy across the table.
But once they were seated at a quiet corner booth, Alex noticed something off. Their plates stayed nearly untouched. Alice nudged her salad with her fork, her smile bright but distracted. Rosalie just sipped her coffee—never seeming to actually drink.
Finally, as a long hush settled between the three, Alex took a breath and decided he couldn't keep dancing around it any longer. "Can I be blunt?" he asked, meeting their eyes. "Who are you, really? I mean—you're not exactly subtle. You barely eat, there's just something about both of you no one else has."
His stomach twisted as he waited. Maybe this was too much, too direct—but he couldn't keep pretending.
Silently, he admitted to himself, Well, I know who they are; I just want them to be honest with me. Trust can't grow with secrets.
A long silence hung over the room. Alice and Rosalie exchanged a glance—heavy with the fear and promise that comes when a wall finally starts to crumble.
Alice was first to speak, her voice soft but true. "What we have with you, Alex—none of us expected it. It scares me, honestly. I worry if you really knew us, you'd turn away. Or you'd see us as something to fear."
Rosalie's voice was low, just above a whisper, but unwavering. "It's complicated, but it's real for us. We want to see where it goes… if you do. Normal people would be scared of us."
There was a pause, and then Alice added, carefully but with relief, "We're known as the cold ones. We're… literally vampires."
Alex let the words hang in the air, the weight of honesty settling over all three of them. He nodded slowly, a rush of relief, fear, and hope tangled together.
"Thank you for trusting me," he said quietly. "I'm not going anywhere."
They smiled—wary, hopeful, filled with the raw new sense of belonging and the fragile start of something real. In the calm that followed, Alex found himself wondering—all right, time to be honest, I'm nothing close to normal either. Should I tell them about me? Or wait, and let trust grow, one step at a time?
Whatever else the future held, for now, this was finally, truly honest.