"Darling, I did more than just bite you." he presented nonchalantly, "I drank your blood."
Lizbeth stared. Her words left her, she had nothing to reply to that. Fear settling into the pit of her stomach as she recalled him saying 'A vampire' before she passed out.
She pondered how she should proceed. Does she continue to fight him? No, she should get the hell out and never come back.
He sighed. "This is not ideal, but we can make this work."
A story in which fate intends to force them together, for better or worse.
