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“Hey, Peyton. Do you have a minute?”
She turns her head towards the door, blinking almost owlishly at the sight of Felix hesitating at the threshold of her bedroom. It’s unusual behavior for him, even in the short time she’s known him. He’s usually not one to shy away from physical contact— normally draping himself over Peyton whenever he has the chance. The fact that he’s hesitating now is worrying to say the least.
“Sure, Felix.” She answers with a warm smile. “I’ve always got time for you.”
He returns her smile with a beaming one of his own— wide, bright, and with just the barest flash of fangs. He’s beside her an instant later, settled onto the edge of the bed and so close their shoulders practically touch. He hums quietly, the vaguely familiar tune dancing about the edges of her memory as Felix suddenly falls silent and somber.
“What’s on your mind?”
“It’s just... now that you know the truth about us... are you afraid of us now? Afraid of me?” He drags the cap from his hair, tosses it up and down— once, twice, a third time— then catches it and turns it in his hands; his amber eyes flicking from her to the cap and back again all the while. “Most people probably think we’re monsters but we’re not... we aren’t like that. I’m not like that.”
“Felix, no.” Peyton reaches out, takes one of his hands in her own. “You’re not a monster. Not to me. Never to me.”
Felix stills, his gaze firmly locked on Peyton’s hand resting on his own before a smile tugs at the edges of his mouth once more. He ducks his head, almost shyly, and murmurs a soft “thanks, Peyton.” before slowly and reluctantly biding her goodnight.