I didn’t want to tell him, but by the time we got into my dorm room Toby smelled a little like bacon. The sun had barely risen, but I could hear him hiss in pain any time sunlight caught his bare skin.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he whispered as I unlocked the door. He glanced nervously down the empty hallway, still holding my jacket over his head.

“My roommate never comes home,” I whispered back.

“You’re lucky,” he said. “My flatmate never leaves.”

I ushered him into my empty room and shut the door.

Even when I was by myself, this room was cramped. Two single beds squeezed up against opposite walls, hemmed in with two narrow bland wardrobes and two desks, all made with the same greyish plywood. My roommate Elle had made half an effort to decorate before she all but moved out--twinkle lights draped over her pink bed--but my side of the room was sparse.

Toby--still smelling like earth worms and charred meat--towered over it all. He ran a hand through his hair, and dirt rained down.

“Sorry--damn--” he shifted to look at where the dirt had fallen, grinding it farther into the carpet.

“Do you want to shower?” I looked around and grabbed a clean towel.

“You go first,” he said. I shook my head.

“Whatever I look like, you look worse.”

He laughed, and it hit my heart like a sunbeam. He didn’t hate me. Everything was going to be fine.

“Thanks,” he said, and took the towel. He reached for the door handle.

“Wait--” I slid in front of him and poked my head out first, to make sure that the hallway was clear. It was unlikely that anyone was awake this early… but I didn’t want to risk it. “The coast is clear.”

I fell back against the hard front of my wardrobe the minute he was out the door. Everything was going to be fine.

The door popped back open, and I nearly screamed, but it was just Toby, poking his head back in.

“Which way is your hall bathroom?”

“Third on the left,” I said breathlessly, and he grinned and disappeared again.

The reddish sunrise glowed around the shoddy blackout curtains on my window. I yanked them open to look out at the corner of campus our window gave us access to. It looked beautiful this early. Still. Silent. The students in my hall wouldn’t be waking up for another three-to-eight hours on a Sunday morning.

I pulled the curtain back down, blocking out the rising sun.

I turned to look at my room. I had tidied it up less than twelve hours earlier, before I’d gone to meet Toby, before anything had happened. Before everything had happened. The me that cleaned my room felt like a different person from a different world.

I clicked Elle’s twinkle lights on.

I yanked my wardrobe open to pull out clothes to change into once I’d showered--something cute, something soft, something to sleep in? I couldn’t imagine sleeping.

I had made zero progress by the time Toby knocked on my door again.

He slipped into the room, holding his dirty, bloody clothes with one hand, and pinning the towel around his waist with the other. Water still beaded on his shoulders, dripping from his wet curls. Freckles dotted his collar bone.

Almost naked, my brain said, and I had to shush it before it could direct my eyes towards the V of his hips.

His change was apparent. He had always been skinny, but now his skin pulled around his ribs and sunk into his cheeks.

He held up his bundle of blood- and dirt-stained clothing.

“I almost want to keep these,” he said, squeezing them tighter. “Some sort of memento of the night I died.”

“You’re not dead,” I said quickly. He shrugged, brow creasing.

“Un-dead,” he murmured, looking at the clothes like they held some hint of a solution.

In the end we threw them away. I gave him an old pair of sleep shorts to try while I went to shower, and when I got back he was striking silly poses to show off his new look.

“These make my butt look great,” he said, twisting around to catch every angle. “I gotta get me some of these. That pink frill really accentuates my thighs.”

“You should wear them to class,” I said.

“Hmm. Pretty sure that’s against the dress code,” he said, but he put his hands on his hips and struck another pose. “Too distracting for Professor Watkins.”

“He’d crack his glasses.”

“Do you have another pair of these? We could match. Give the man a heart attack.”

It felt good to laugh. Toby looked at me oddly, and my laughter caught in my throat.

“That was a joke, right?”

He shook his head, like shaking water out of his ears.

“It’s not that,” he said. “I think I just heard your heartbeat.”

“Oh,” I said. Right. That. “That’s… a cool bonus.”

“Paige.” Toby’s voice rasped, all of his playful joy suddenly gone. “I’m so… hungry.”

He’ll have trouble controlling his impulses. Nico’s words rang in my ears. There would be time--maybe too much time--later to explain, but for now…

I swallowed, nervous.

“Do you think…” I had to clear my throat. “Do you think you can stop feeding before…”

His brow creased.

“Paige, I can’t do that. I can’t feed off of you. I won’t,” he said, but I could see his resolve slipping away even as he said it.

“You have to,” I said. “Before you lose control.”

“What if I hurt you?” His voice sounded like it was tearing its way out of his throat.

I tried to smile.

“Don’t?” I said. I always had the worst comedic timing. He didn’t look comforted. “I knew this would… I made this choice.” I pulled up the sleeve of my shirt and sat on my bed. Then, slowly, I held out my wrist.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, eyes fixed on my wrist.

“Toby,” I said, and his eyes flicked up to meet mine. “Really. It’s okay.”

His eyes held mine a moment longer. And then he bowed his head and slowly, almost too slowly, put his mouth to my wrist.

At first it felt like a kiss. My whole arm tingled as he sank to his knees, holding my wrist to his mouth ever so gently. I shivered--felt his tongue touch my pulse--watched his eyes close.

Then--a searing pain. I’d had blood drawn every month since I was sixteen, but never anything like this.

I must have made a noise, because Toby’s eyes shot open. I nodded, quickly, to reassure him as I caught my breath, but almost as soon as I felt that sharp pain it disappeared. I could still feel the blood leaving my body, but there was another sensation--almost like the blood was being replaced by a sense of lightness. Of freedom.

Like I didn’t need that blood anymore, anyways.

All of my fear was gone. I reached over with my other hand to brush Toby’s hair out of his eyes.

He pulled back, and gently licked a final drop of blood off of my wrist, then held his palm tightly over the puncture wounds to stop the bleeding. He leaned his head against my knees.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, and I put my hand on his head.

“Don’t be,” I said.

And then I passed out.