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Nobody had told Mizuki that vampirism comes with amnesia. Or, well, maybe they did. They wouldn’t remember anyway.
Mizuki did not remember much. Nevermind. Mizuki did not remember anything . They simply woke up in an unfamiliar bed, with unfamiliar fangs, an unfamiliar bite mark on their neck, and an unfamiliar, overpowering thirst for blood. They were parched, craving, starving - desperate for a single drop of sweet crimson.
Which - as far as they remembered - they had never even had.
So, head spinning from their yearning for blood, they forced themself out of bed, and stared at their bedraggled face in the sticker-covered mirror for a few seconds, narrowing their eyes, barely recognizing themself (well, not that they had a memory to compare to, but they were reasonably certain red eyes were not exactly normal) and fixed their hair into something at least presentable, pink curls tumbling down their shoulders - a rosy waterfall. They weren’t sure the clothes that they wore were theirs either, given the white, paint-stained t-shirt they wore was at least two sizes too big, and they were practically drowning in the pajama pants they wore, which were patterned with little cats. With a last skeptical glance at the mirror, they padded down the wooden staircase (after a bit of failed navigation around the confusing place where they had stayed the night).
Mizuki is immediately greeted by laughter and cheer, something that looked akin to a tavern - filled to the brim with impressively jolly red-eyed people - vampires - the majority of which were holding glasses filled with frothy red liquid. Their eyes dart anxiously around the room, eyebrows knitting in confusion.
They had absolutely no clue where they were, but it wasn’t long before a pair of wine-red eyes caught theirs, sparkling with recognition as a brunette bounded over to them. “Mizuki! You’re awake!” they beamed, words nearly drowned out by the loud… guests? Mizuki blinked.
Who on Earth was this? And why did they seem so happy to see Mizuki?
The brunette’s face fell, realization dawning on their face. “Oh, right. You’re a fresh vampire. Um- wait- let me fix you a drink,” Mizuki watched as this mysterious person they apparently knew disappeared as quickly as they appeared, inhumanly fast, returning only a few seconds later with a glass full of red, watching as Mizuki eyed it wearily. They giggle a little, “Don’t worry. Just blood. You’ll need some if you want to grow big and strong.”
“Uh, right.” Mizuki was still a little skeptical, but with them remembering quite literally only their own name, this random brunette seemed to be their best bet. They sip the blood, but thirst quickly overtakes them, and they end up rather ungracefully chugging the rest of their ‘drink’. The person smiles.
“You were thirsty, hm? U~m… Well, this won’t be easy to explain, so, come with me!” They grab Mizuki’s hand, causing their (newly) pale face to heat up red - it’s not every day some person you don’t even remember grabs your hand so casually, especially not a person you don’t remember who’s irritatingly pretty and just fed you blood. Mizuki is practically dragged up the stairs, head still a blurry haze; their eyes only refocus once they find themself sitting beside the person who had given them the blood, on an unusually comfortable sofa. By now, Mizuki had begun to realize that wherever they had stayed overnight seemed to be some sort of vampire-tavern-inn-thing. How mysterious. The brunette takes a deep breath, before smiling at Mizuki.
“Well, um. I turned you into a vampire- but the problem is, fledgling vampires don’t remember anything for the first week - I’m not sure why, perhaps it’s a shock thing. Anyway, the only way for you to remember before that one week is over is if you drink the blood of your sire vampire,” they explained, still smiling at Mizuki. They stared at Mizuki with such adoration, it was almost overwhelming - to be stared at with such love. Mizuki could feel their face heating up again at the thought. Why did this person seem to love them so much? It made their chest feel all fuzzy - as if their heart had turned into felt. Their mind was still racing from all this information. A stupidly pretty brunette had turned them into a vampire and had such an annoyingly love-ridden stare, it was too much for Mizuki to process.
“Who are you?” Mizuki blurted out, so distracted by the hammering of their heart in their chest they didn’t realize how rude the question may have seemed. The person blinked at Mizuki, a blank expression coloring their face for a split-second, before switching into a wide smile, eyes twinkling in a frustratingly endearing way.
“My name is Ena. I am… your girlfriend.” Ena’s voice softened as they finished their sentence, a soft pink dusting their cheekbones. Mizuki’s breath caught in their throat, and they felt heat rush to their face. They must have been bright red, as Ena giggled a little, embracing Mizuki, warm arms sliding around their waist. “I was waiting for you to ask, Mizuki.”
Ena said Mizuki’s name like a prayer, something beautiful and sweet, in a way that made Mizuki’s heart skip a beat. Mizuki swallowed down their butterflies, feeling their hands wrap around Ena in return, almost subconsciously. Mizuki felt comforted, content, in Ena’s arms, and they buried their face in the crook of the brunette’s neck, feeling strangely at home despite their lack of memory. They must be foolish, to just trust this person, but something about Ena was so homely, so enchanting, that Mizuki couldn’t help themself.
“Can I…?” Mizuki trailed off, but the question was clear in their tone. Ena nodded, tilting their head to the side and sighing as Mizuki buried their fangs in the junction between their shoulder and neck, cherry liquid filling their mouth - Ena’s blood tasted sweet, almost like vanilla - warm and fluffy, delicate, so, so delicious. Mizuki hummed into Ena’s neck. It was good. That’s such an understatement that it’s overwhelming. Crimson spilled over Mizuki’s tongue, a river of power in their mouth, before their vision went white and their fangs slid out of Ena’s neck.
Memories flooded back into Mizuki’s head - memories of soft lips pressed against one another, warm embraces, comfort, and peace. It was a wave of euphoria, washing over them and coloring them with a warm, fluttery feeling. Their arms tightened around Ena, pulling them closer, and they had never ever felt so at ease; safe, and peaceful in their lover's arms. Mizuki pulls their head back from Ena’s neck, red staring into red, and Mizuki couldn’t help but tilt their head forwards and steal a kiss from Ena.
They tasted like strawberries and cream, so overpoweringly sweet, delicate, and, frankly, perfect. Much like Ena. At that moment they were beauty, grace, the perfect image of love - something more than the poets could ever describe, hell, they were past poetry - they were a connection, an adoration that was more than fate, it was truth. A vampire’s love story. And Mizuki knew that they would never leave Ena, and Ena, Mizuki. They had silently sworn to stay together forever, and, so deeply, utterly, and foolishly in love, that is all they wanted.