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Lately Ivan has been spending quite a bit of time with me.

I suppose this means that I have also been spending quite a bit of time with him as well. But Ivan always initiates it, which makes sense seeing as he knows where I live and not vice-versa. I will be trimming the yard or walking to the store or on my way to work, and suddenly his shoes step in time beside my own. Hamir and Jacob complain about the smell, and though I agree, I say nothing so as not to be rude towards my new friend. He has learned a lot about me from seeing where I go and what I do. However I cannot say the same, for our times together are usually spent in a comfortable silence. All I know is his first name and that he is a werewolf.

Today- Thursday, to be exact- began at 3 am for me. I first quickly watered the garden, taking note of how well the tomatoes were growing. Though we do not have any use for food anymore, I like to pretend. And tomatoes used to be my favourite. Then I showered, dressed, and stepped out the front door in the direction of the mall. After a two blocks I realized that I had once again forgotten to eat breakfast. My stomach could no longer growl, but I felt my body reacting negatively, a headache beginning to form and chills speeding through my body. I shivered and thrust my hands into my coat pockets, coming out empty. Apparently I'd left my emergency supply of food in my jacket. This would not pose such an imminent problem had I not repeatedly forgotten seven days in a row, mainly due to my grief over my cat. The lack of blood in my veins probably showed very evidently in my abnormally-pale face.

Per usual, a pair of well-used running shoes were suddenly walking beside my old J&M Nolen boots. I almost didn't notice or acknowledge the new presence, afraid that if I were to look up from the ground I may fall over. The chill and the dizziness and the headache were all I could be occupied with. But my weak and lightheaded state allowed me a little less insecurity and a little more courage- or perhaps carelessness.

"Why are you my friend?" The darkness swallowed up my question so that I had forgotten I'd asked it. First there was a hint of embarrassment that accompanied the words. I never really spoke to others in such a forward manner. But it was quickly replaced by the feeling of "I don't care". I didn't dare glance up at him, for fear of forgetting how to put one foot in front of the other. He began slowing his pace to allow my dehydrated corpse to keep up with his very much alive one.

"You're different." His voice surprised me. It was much deeper than I had remembered.

"...I'm dead," I replied bluntly, my thin and scratchy whisper quiet and almost unheard.

"Not like that." That statement was filled with subdued disgust, and spat out like poison. "I've hated plenty of dead people. Not because you're compared to them."

I'm not quite sure what this meant, and was too exhausted to realize that this did not provide an answer to my question. Hopefully we were still headed in the direction of the mall. I could no longer tell, only focused on remaining in an upright position. "Why do you follow me?"

Minutes passed of us just walking in the dark without him answering. I finally looked up to make sure we were on the right path, and immediately stumbled onto the pavement. My arms could not find the strength to block my fall and in my haze I did not care too much. Luckily Ivan caught my head before it smashed to pieces on the cement. "Oh..." The incredible heat from his hands forced me to slowly push my weight into a sitting position, raising my head away from the warmth. A little bit of the haze went away, enough for me to delay my currently inevitable coma. "Oh, I'm very sorry. I'm a bit... um..." My brain did not further trouble itself with forming a coherent sentence, and I subconsciously moved to lay back down on the sidewalk to "sleep", just muttering my apologies to a very confused werewolf.

"I've never seen a sick vampire before, so I don't know what one looks like." That heat again, against my back and my legs. It yanked me from my comfortable descent into slow death. I cracked my eyelids open and peered up at his deep brown, concerned pupils, his tanned face a dark shadow in the early morning. "But if I had to guess, I think this is it."

My dying and now outgoing self laughed as I had not done in many years at the absurdity of his statement. This feeling reminded me very much of the feeling of being drunk, which I had also not experienced in many years. "Ivan, your humourous words do delight me, my dear friend, but I am afraid vampires do not get sick. Not as the living do, in any case." I felt him pull me closer as he sat down on the sidewalk, the warmth of his living flesh burning through my clothes. I moved his hand from under my knees to place a part of my long coat underneath it, to somewhat create a barrier between our skins. This action alone was tiring, and my arm went limp immediately after. I could barely move my tongue to speak, so I decided to stop my explanation there and just close my eyes.

"What's wrong then?" His voice resonated through my chest, pulling me from my now much-desired sleep again. "Vincent, try to keep your eyes open. You're not sick, you don't sleep. Do you need..." He stiffened. "Do you need blood?"

I heard none of his words. Instead I was listening to his heartbeat. It's been a very long time since I'd last heard one. A single finger thumped in time to the beat on his chest. As I vaguely felt my body being laid out on the ground, I wished it were my own heartbeat. I wished I could feel it race with excitement and adrenaline and even fear. So long as my emotions were not so one-dimensional, only mental and not physical.

The metallic taste of what had become my sustenance dripped onto the tip of my tongue. Though it had not yet been consumed, I felt my head begin to clear and a little strength return, enough to resist the eventually neverending sleep. I opened my eyes to see a bloody finger pressed to my lips and a fiercely concentrating Ivan sitting over me.

"Swallow," he commanded when he saw my eyes open. I did so, and immediately noticed my senses increase slightly. The nausea and headache slowly ebbed away into nothingness. He squeezed the tip of his finger and a few drips splattered into my mouth.

A million emotions rushed into my head at once. First confusion- why am I on the ground? Why do I feel so awful? Then realization. I have not fed in a long time. Then confusion again... Why am I feeling better then? More epiphanies: Ivan was able to figure out what was wrong and saved me. Now I am extremely joyful. I'm not dead! I didn't decease a second time!

Then a sense of dread fell upon me. After a moment of this bombarding of feelings, I pushed his bleeding hand away and swallowed the last of the blood drops, not meeting his gaze. "Thank you," I managed to whisper. I was completely and utterly mortified. My friendship may have possibly just been shattered by my stupidity and forgetfulness. Ivan hated vampires. He must have hated allowing one to feed on his own blood. I didn't have many friends my age, and though my friendship with Ivan was the least stable, I had begun to enjoy it immensely and had no intention of severing it.

The overwhelming emotions caused tears to prick at the corners of my eyes. Though I was mostly dead, parts of my body did work, such as my muscles, my synapses, my irises, and in this case my tear ducts. I wondered if he hated me, or was disgusted by me. And I had acted so silly in my dying state. I sniffled and lowered my head in shame, rubbing at my eyes with stiff fingers. "I apologize for... for forcing you to feed me..." I wasn't sure why he helped me in the first place. He could have easily let me die, and it would have been my own fault. "I appreciate it, though I do not understand it. And I am very sorry that I... I acted so... so..." I was barely able to get my words out as my stupidity replayed itself over and over in my head.

He helped me up, an overly-warm arm wrapped around my shoulders to steady me. "Hey, don't cry. What are friends for?" he asked cheerfully, a smile evident through his voice, though it still contained hints of worry. All contempt he had for me as a vampire earlier seemed to vanish as he wiped away tears from my embarrassed and moon-white face. His smile turned into a slight smirk and his deep brown eyes seemed to darken for a moment. "Don't apologize. I actually thought it was pretty hot."

I sniffled some more and wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks as I focused completely on collecting myself, not listening to whatever he said to soothe me. I wanted to "crawl in a hole and die", as the popular saying is nowadays. His arm stiffened around me for a moment, like he was contemplating his own sentence, and I wished then that I had heard what it was. But then he relaxed and tugged me gently down the street again in the general direction we were previously going. He knew where I went to work on Thursdays, and I trusted him to take me there. "Do you need more though? That wasn't very much."

I shook my head violently. He was not going to put himself through that for me again. "No, no thank you. That will be fine for the day. I feel much better now, thank you." It came out in a fast whisper, tears threatening to spill again.

I felt him glance at me for a moment, then shrug nonchalantly. "Was it... not good then?"

I was back to staring at my shoes, putting one foot ahead of the next. What am I supposed to make of that sentence? Does he actually care what I think about his blood? Have I insulted him somehow? He sounded somewhat hurt when he asked. "It... It was very nice. A-, I believe. I suppose I should be lucky. Most vampires consider that type a treat, since it is not too common. I enjoyed it, if that's what you mean. Especially since it saved my life." What does he want to hear?

His chuckle reminded me of his heartbeat, and of how I longed for one myself. "Well thank you. Maybe I'll start charging you for it." I smiled up at him, feeling very normal around him all of a sudden. As though a wall had been broken between us. Five minutes ago, he would not have his arm anywhere near me, let alone supporting me. He probably had never thought of providing me with sustenance. But here he is making jokes and touching me directly. How very strange. This kind of normality seemed to disappear once I had become a vampire. And now it was back again- with a werewolf, no less.

"Thank you again, Ivan."

He squeezed me for a second, a soft smile on his face. "Anytime, Vincent." And I believed him.