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It's quiet around the table. Every noise, every shift, Vampy's eyes trail it. The theater seems to echo with its emptiness.
She misses the chaos that her friend had brought, no matter how annoying it had seemed.
Vampy stares down at her plate until she can't anymore, swallowing as she stands up. Sawyer catches her eye as he does the exact same.
It takes Vampy a second to realize why he looks as sick as she feels.
He'd been the winner. The one who Firelight so willingly praised. He'd looked sick then, too, but Vampy hadn't really noticed.
Now, she wishes she had.
The two walk down the theater hallway in relative silence. Each step sounds too heavy for what it is, sounds too heavy to be them returning to their solitude. Sawyer finds his room first, and Vampy takes a moment as he hesitates in front of the door, the wood just barely ajar. She catches the sight of a few CDs before she finally speaks up, her voice low and hesitant.
"Congrats on winning," she tells him, and it makes her flinch when he scoffs.
"Don't congratulate me on that," he hisses.
The door is loud when it slams shut behind him.
Vampy lets out a breath as she stands there, petrified. Her hands ball into fists, and she wants to scream. How dare he? Who does he think he is? She's close to banging her fangs against the door, but she stops herself and sighs.
There's no point being mad right now. Strawberry is dead. You have other priorities.
Instead, she walks back to her room, and slumps into her nest. It still smells like dried blood, but with these damn constant nosebleeds, she can't help it.
Speaking of...
Vampy's fangs clack together as she sniffles, raising a hand to the blood dripping from her fangs. "God..." she groans, dragging herself up and to her bathroom. She'd at least been wise enough to imagine a joint bathroom-bedroom when she'd made this.
With the blood trailing down her chin and the tears welled in her eyes, she looks a sight. Especially with that [REDACTED] that she can't stop thinking about.
She shoves a few tissues in her pockets, forces down the tears, and walks back into her room, only for her breath to catch.
Firelight is sat on her desk, feet kicking as she seems to think. He doesn't say anything once they notice she came out, but Vampy sees the pity in his eyes. It reminds her of the blood blood blood on that doormat and echoing screams. She bites back a sob and instead glares.
"Why're you here?" She croaks out, throat so tight she can barely speak at all. "Taunting me? Taunting me for not being the loser?"
Firelight waves her off, a sigh slipping from their painted lips. "Not at all. In fact, I'm here to make sure you're alright."
Vampy stares at the lighter with such incredulity as she snorts. She doesn't even need to say anything - Firelight seems to understand.
The lighter fiddles with one of the pens on her desk, and it's then that Vampy notices, with a furrowed brow, that Firelight had taken care not to sit on any of her papers. They're not even touched at all, like she'd sat just so she wouldn't mess with them.
"I don't..." the host mutters, tugging at their cap. "I don't know how to help you."
"Then don't," Vampy drawls out, then curses under her breath as the blood starts trickling once more. She doesn't notice the way their eyes latch onto her wounded arm as she pats away the liquid.
A beat of silence passes, and then Vampy drops the tissue into a small trashcan, already almost overflowing with the same contents.
"I want to."
Vampy looks back up, eyes narrowing as she buries herself in her nest. "Don't even try it. You... you might not admit it, but you killed her. If I don't see her again, it's your fault."
Firelight looks like she's gonna cry, and Vampy feels a sudden sharp pang in her chest. She absently grabs at her fang and tugs.
"You killed her. You killed her, and you wouldn't let me help. Just..." Vampy takes a moment to breathe, her eyes watering again as she sniffles. "Just go. Please. I can't... not... not right now."
Vampy doesn't even need to watch her leave. She knows Firelight will.
People always leave when she needs them.
-_-_-
It's a bit later that night that Vampy continues to find herself awake. She'd always had excellent ears - growing up in the woods, heightened senses meant life or death.
But right now, it just means heartbreak.
She can't hear Strawberry shift in her sleep. She can't hear her breathing through the thin walls. She can't feel her warmth that always seemed to seep into whoever was near her.
Vampy sniffles, but she doesn't have much time to rue the fact that she should have died, she should have been the one to leave, because there's a knock at her door.
She takes a moment to dry her eyes, cleaning herself up and dragging herself out of bed as she pads to the door. She cracks it open, ready to curse Firelight out, but she's not there.
Instead, Fritter Bitte holds out a cupcake, and Vampy can't control the way her grip tightens on the door frame, wood creaking under her fingers.
Bitte only smiles, eyes sad as he pushes it further out. "For you."
"Why?"
Vampy knows she shouldn't be rude, that her parents had raised her much better than this and that she's being a bad example for her siblings, but she can't stop the word from spilling past her lips.
"The walls are thin," Bitte says simply. "I could hear you moving."
Vampy studies him for a second, and then takes it.
She swears she says thank you, but she doesn't hear it come from her throat. Bitte seems to understand anyways, eyes softening as he takes the doorknob on his end and pulls the door shut, leaving her and the cupcake shrouded in darkness.
She mindlessly brings it to her bedside table, putting it down. It's too... cute for her, but it's perfect for Strawberry Swirl, so instead of eating it, she sits there and whispers to it all night.
She could swear she heard it whisper back.
-_-_-
The next morning comes before she knows it, and Vampy is cranky as hell. Tired, aching, and still so stuffy from those FORKING nosebleeds, she walks down to the dining hall.
Sawyer turns and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but then his eyes widen and he swiftly turns back away.
Smart. Vampy would probably bite his head off.
She takes her place at the table and drops her head down, and everyone quiets. At least, everyone except Dandé, who doesn't seem to notice the tension, until she plops into the seat beside Vampy.
"Who pissed in your coffee?" She jokes, but Vampy just narrows her eyes.
She is WAY too tired for this.
Instead of responding like a normal person, Vampy forces sickly sweet cheer into her voice.
"Oh, you know," she smiles, and Dandé cringes away, but Vampy doesn't stop. "Maybe the death of my only friend?"
Dandé freezes. "Wh-What? But Firelight-"
Vampy almost wants to wrap her hands around that dandelion's throat for ever assuming such a thing. "Not that murderer," Vampy hisses.
A little something in her shrivels and dies.
"Strawberry Swirl was eliminated."