A vampire's love 2.

I stared at the dress Morgan had brought. It was a lavnder coloured knee length dress, with short sleeves. The neckline was modest, and the lace soft to the touch. It was beautiful, but the small rebellious part of me was telling me not to wear it. That would only affect him, and even though at this point, I knew he wouldn't hurt me, I still hated his anger. Just like I used to hate it when I thought he was human.

"Samantha?" It was Morgan. 

"Come in," I said, clearing my throat.  

The door opened to let him in, and I lowered my eyes to my hands, avoiding his gaze. 

"I see you've gotten your dress," He said, as if he wasn't the one who brought it himself. I rolled my eyes, but I doubt he saw it.

"Do you like it?" 

I shrugged. "It's fine, but I don't think I want to wear it."

"Uhm..why? You don't like the color?" 

I shrugged and looked up. He was wearing a black shirt and trouser, with white high top boots. On that, he was wearing a white coat, one that had beautiful black designs on it, and to one side of the sleeve, an embroidered cursive read, Morgan. But that wasn't what caught my attention. His front hair was loosely curled to the side, so that when he moved, a few strands fell in front of his forehead, just above his eyes. His eyelashes looked extremely dark, and his eyes a vibrant royal blue. He looked flawless, exactly like a vampire. 

"Why don't you like the dress?" He asked again, concern lacing his voice.

I hiccupped once, then cleared my throat trying to hide it. 

"Don't worry about it. I'll wear it." 

He squatted, matching my height on the bed. "Are you sure, Samantha?" 

I nodded and lowered my head. If anyone saw me, they would think I was shy, scared or crying. Little did they know he was blinding me. 

He traced his palm over my face, pulling my hair gently away. He then lifted himself a bit to my forehead and kissed it. 

"I'm sorry about the violence today. You should never witness something like that, and i'm so sorry I lost it in front of you and made you go through that."

I only nodded.

"I know it will be hard," he continued, his palm still cupping my left cheek while his thumb traced slow patterns on it. "But I do hope you forgive and get used to me again. I'll let you dress now." 

He stood up and walked away, closing the door gently behind him.

I released the breath I didn't realize I was holding as soon as he walked out. It felt a bit real, The tingles he left on my skin, the electricity that passed though my spine, the butterflies in my stomach. I swallowed, suddenly remembering my dad. He was probably trying to reach me. I sighed. 

"Sorry, Morgan. But i'll probably never get used to this."