Archive of Our Own

Sometimes it was easy to hide the fact that she was a vampire. 

Well…half-vampire, actually. But still a variant of blood-sucking humanoid with fangs and almost no body heat, an aversion to garlic and holy things, a slightly higher-than-average reaction to sunlight, occasionally drinking blood, and an affinity for staying up at night. It was easy, most of the time, to pass it off as a strange habit, and especially easy given the general habits of youth in the current time period: 

Don’t like the sun? UV allergies. 

Can’t eat garlic? Ayurvedic diet.

Waits to be invited in? Polite. 

Doesn’t sleep at night? Insomniac.

Drinks from a metal flask? Paranoid. 

Really, you’d think it would be much harder to keep it a secret, especially in the public eye. But most of the time, it was easy to dodge questions, queries, and general confusion about her lifestyle and routine. She could even hide her fangs most of the time, which—when she talked or laughed—usually just looked like slightly sharper-than-normal canines.

But there had been a few times when her cover had been blown, and spectacularly so. Like the time she’d had her first kiss with her now friend-zoned best friend at their eighth-grade formal—and accidentally nicked his lower lip with her fangs. Sophia had burst into tears immediately, convinced she’d just ruined her life, exposed herself, and traumatized him all at once. Meanwhile, he’d stood there holding a napkin to his mouth, laughing. She’d been so sure he’d look at her differently after that. Be afraid. Pull away. Instead, he’d thought it was cool. It hadn’t stopped her from avoiding kissing anyone for almost four years afterward.

Then there was the time Ezrela had grabbed her flask after rehearsal during their trainee days, having forgotten her own and looking to waterfall it.

The flask that very much did not contain water.

She’d snatched it back quickly enough, making up on the spot that she was obsessive-compulsive about it—which also neatly explained the obsessive counting problem. Two birds. One stone.

But it had gotten increasingly harder after she’d gotten a serious girlfriend. And then an additional serious girlfriend. Who was also dating the first serious girlfriend. And who, unfortunately for Sophia, had been a self-professed vampire lover since she was eleven, courtesy of her favorite movie. Which meant she came equipped with an alarming amount of vampire lore, trivia, and strong opinions.

Although the Cullens weren’t the most accurate example of vampires out there, they were accurate enough to make Sophia extra careful around her. She was extra cautious whenever they kissed, and never used her teeth when leaving marks—too fearful of losing control or puncturing skin. She doesn’t think Manon’s fully connected the dots, but she did joke about her little quirks sometimes. 

Sometimes the other girls joined in too, laughing about it, nudging Sophia and calling her “vamphia” like their fans sometimes did. She took it all lightly, but it always makes her pulse spike just a little. 

Sophia told herself it was fine. People loved patterns; they loved making things dramatic. Still, she found herself monitoring everything now—her words, her habits, even the way she smiled. Careful not to give anything away. Careful not to become a vampire cliché.

All in all, she was just scraping by at this point. 

There had been a few moments when they’d almost found out. Close calls, each one leaving a thin layer of suspicion hanging in the air afterward. She’d covered every time, patched the holes as they appeared. But how long could she realistically keep doing that? She’d tell them. Not today, but someday. And…it wasn’t as if they’d sort of guessed already right?

Right?

1

“Can we order pizza?”

She looked down at Manon, who was sprawled across Daniela’s lap, flipping mindlessly through Netflix titles with the TV remote. 

“Ooh, yeah, can we?” Daniela perked up, fingers stilling in Manon’s hair. “I’m actually starving.”

Sophia moved to get up. “Is there any place open this late? I can just make us something.” 

Manon’s hand shot out to stop her. “Nooo, then there’ll be dishes,” she whined. “Pretty sure Pete’s Za closes at 2 am.” 

“It does, and it’s only a block away,” Daniela confirmed from where she had evidently just googled the closing hours. “I’m all for the no-dishes route.” 

“I would’ve washed the dishes,” Sophia laughed.

“Absolutely not, cause then we would’ve been the shitty girlfriends who made you cook and clean.” Daniela shook her head, resolute. “Now, what do you guys want? I’ll buy.”

“Love it when you sugar mommy us.” Manon peered over, abandoning the remote in favor of squinting at the menu on Daniela’s phone. “I could totally go for garlic knots.” 

Daniela hums in agreement before turning to Sophia. “What do you want?” 

Sophia shook her head. “I’m good. I ate earlier.” 

Daniela frowns but doesn’t push it; Sophia knows it’s because earlier had been almost six hours ago now. Still, she’d gone out to feed the night before, so anything she ate was purely to keep up the ruse. 

Manon was less easily subdued. “You sure? That was a while ago.” 

Sophia just nods. “Yeah, I guess it helps that we haven’t really done much today. Hard to work up an appetite from lounging around on the couch.” 

“Sure,” Manon says, standing and rolling her shoulders. She was dressed in an ancient basketball jersey that had belonged to Daniela, and one that she had been about to throw away (“I don’t even watch basketball anymore,” she had said indignantly when Manon got on her for trying to toss a $60 piece of clothing), and it came till mid-thigh. She was also wearing absolutely nothing else. Which Sophia now seemed to be hyper aware of. 

She moved forward, depositing herself on the armrest and leaning forward towards her. The neck of the jersey dipped and, like an idiot, Sophia followed the movement. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She glanced up hastily, and Manon grinned at her, clearly pleased at her reaction.

“If working up an appetite is the problem, I can help you with that,” she purred, and Sophia had to stifle a whimper as Manon scooted closer and pulled her forward to kiss her. Sophia’s still half human, so she can’t help but to indulge just a bit, fingers rucking up the edge of the jersey to caress the soft skin underneath. Completely distracted from the garlic knots dilemma she was sure to face in the next half hour. 

“Riiight, well, as much as I totally like what I’m seeing,” Daniela’s voice said from somewhere to her left. “I’m legit starving, so I’m going to go get the food.” 

She stood up, yanking on a jacket that was thrown carelessly on the back of a chair, then reached back to slap Manon’s ass for good measure—who made an irritated sound against Sophia’s mouth but didn’t break the kiss—as she left, shutting the door behind her. 

By the time she returned, balancing two cardboard boxes that smelled aggressively of cheese, tomato sauce, and—God—garlic, Sophia and Manon were horizontal on the couch. The jersey had ridden up to Manon’s stomach. Sophia was braced over her, completely distracted.

“I got the food,” She announced unnecessarily. 

Manon pulled back abruptly, and Sophia chased her lips for half a second before she leaned away. Manon pushed herself upright, the jersey sliding back down to its rightful place around her thighs.

“Let’s hurry up and eat,” she said, voice still a little breathless. “I kind of just started something I fully intend to finish.”

She shot Daniela a pointed look, slow and deliberate. “And you’re next, sweetheart.”

Daniela paused mid-step, pizza box in hand. “Oh, am I?”

Manon leaned back against the couch cushions like she hadn’t just been pinned beneath Sophia thirty seconds ago. “You left before I could get to you. It’s only fair.”

Daniela huffed a laugh, setting the boxes down on the coffee table. “Unbelievable. I leave for twenty minutes and come back to threats.”

“Promises,” Manon corrected sweetly.

As Daniela and Manon dug in, tearing into slices and garlic knots with enthusiasm, Sophia felt a wave of nausea roll through her. She shifted subtly, then not so subtly, scooting farther down the couch.

“Manon, amazing pick, babe. This is so good,” Daniela said, her voice muffled around a bite of garlic knot. “Sophia, you sure you don’t want any? I’m giving you one final opportunity. After this, I will not be sharing.” 

Sophia forced a small laugh and pulled the abandoned blanket up toward her face, pretending to get comfortable but really just trying to mask the smell. “Yeah, you guys go ahead. I’m not a huge fan of garlic anyway.”

Both pairs of eyes widened in shock. “Wait, seriously?” Manon asks, incredulous. “You don’t eat garlic?” 

“Well, I’ve always been.. sensitive to it.” Sophia shrugged, aiming for casual. “It’s not really a–” 

“Sensitive? So you have like an allergy or something?” Daniela asks, frowning at the thought of having not known that after knowing each other for so long. 

“It’s… not really an allergy—or maybe it is, I don’t know.” She shifted again, wishing the smell wasn’t clinging to the air like this. “I’ve never really bothered finding out.” 

“Sophia, baby,” Manon said dramatically, hand over her heart. “This conversation is deeply upsetting to me right now.”

Daniela is still intrigued. “Do you maybe want to go to a doctor, see what—?” 

“No!” It came out louder than she had intended, and she felt herself blushing. “No, it’s fine, I can live with it. It’s not like I haven’t gotten by all these years. It’s not a big deal, seriously.” 

“If you say so.” Daniela relents, taking another bite of the bread, looking lost in thought. “I’ve never heard of anything like that if you don’t have an allergy. I wonder what you’ve got.” 

Manon snorted. “Maybe she’s got vampire disease.” 

They all laugh at that, and while the subject didn’t come up again that night, she wondered if Manon had any idea how right she had been.

2

They’d been trying to be more intentional about spending time alone together. It was something Sophia had read on the r/polyamory subreddit about the importance of one-on-one time. Something about maintaining connection and individuality outside the group dynamic. Blah blah whatever.

At first, they’d followed the advice casually, more in theory than in practice. But as their schedules filled up and rehearsals ran longer, they’d started making a real effort to split off in pairs instead of defaulting to all three of them every time.

Sophia and Manon liked to play games, usually Monopoly or card games that almost always turned ruthless. They were both widely competitive, and neither believed in mercy. Daniela and Manon liked to curl up and watch trashy reality TV, providing running commentary as they watched. Sophia and Daniela, though, were still figuring out what belonged to just them. 

Their latest tryst, running. They’d decided to go that morning while Manon slept in, heading out just as the sky began to lighten. The air was cool and faintly mildewy in the way it only is right after dawn. They jogged side by side down the sidewalk at an easy pace, their steps falling into a loose rhythm.

They chose a trail not far from their apartment. Sophia usually ran it alone, the incline barely noticeable thanks to her half-vampire physiology. So far, Daniela had been keeping up, but her breathing had started to roughen, her pace lagging by half a step.

“We can take a break if you need it,” Sophia offered, glancing over at her.

Daniela scoffed. “If I need it?” 

“I’m just saying,” Sophia replied evenly. “You’re slowing down. I usually stop at the top, but there’s a bench up ahead if you want to rest.”

Daniela seemed to take offense. “Ohhh, so you’re saying I can’t keep up? I feel like there was a challenge somewhere in there.” 

Sophia hadn’t meant it like that, but competition was instinctive for her. “Only if you want there to be.” 

Daniela wasn’t usually one for competition. But Sophia caught the determination in her eyes at the offer. “Race me,” she said. “First one to the top wins.”

It wasn’t a fair race, and Sophia knew it. Her inhuman stamina made sure of that. Still, when Daniela took off, she followed without thinking.

Daniela sprinted hard, breath turning sharp almost immediately, her ponytail snapping behind her. Sophia matched her pace with ease, then lengthened her stride. The ground blurred beneath her feet. Her lungs didn’t burn. Her muscles didn’t protest. Her body moved with precise efficiency, calibrated for endurance in a way that had nothing to do with training.

She pulled ahead.

Daniela swore behind her, half-laughing, half-strained. Instead of easing up, Sophia pushed a little more. The pavement gave way to dirt, gravel crunching underfoot as the incline steepened. She kept going, exhilaration carrying her forward.

It took her a second too long to realize she’d gotten carried away.

When she finally glanced back, Daniela was far behind, her pace broken, shoulders rising and falling with effort as the hill worked against her. 

Sophia slowed immediately, guilt settling in her chest at having inadvertently pushing her girlfriend past her limits. She forced herself to stop a good five hundred meters up the trail and stepped to the side, bending into a stretch as if that had been the plan all along.

A few minutes later, Daniela reached her and doubled over, hands braced on her knees, gasping for breath. “How.. how the fuck… do you go so.. so long without a break?”  she managed between breaths. 

Sophia took in her flushed face and sweat-damp hair, then tossed her the water bottle she’d brought. Daniela drank deeply, still trying to steady her breathing and Sophia just offered a shrug. “Force of habit, I guess.”

Daniela shook her head. “That’s crazy. We ran—what, two miles?” 

“Two and a half.” 

“And you’re not even winded. We were going uphill!” Daniela is looking at her strangely now. “You don’t even break a sweat in rehearsals or performing either. I’m starting to think you’re some type of superhuman.” 

“Damn, you've figured me out.” Sophia grinned, amused.

Daniala smiled too, handing her bottle back, but her eyes lingered. “Seriously, what’s your secret? Some weirdly intense training routine I don’t know about?” 

“Something like that.” Sophia looked away, taking a sip of water herself. She was never a good liar. 

Daniela doesn’t seem satisfied with her answer, her stare never breaking. 

 Sophia scrambled for something more convincing. “I’m just better at hiding my fatigue, I guess.” She makes a mental note to the growing list of “humanlike” qualities she needs to remember to perform. Pretend to be winded, slow down naturally, and tire out faster. She does get tired sometimes, but her threshold was far higher than that of the average human. “And the sweat thing is just genetics.” 

“You can’t hide running out of breath, Sophia. You’re barely breathing now, and we’ve been running this entire time.” 

“Babe, I’m not out of breath now because I’ve been waiting here for you. I stopped running five minutes ago. And, look—” Sophia takes her wrist, pressing Daniela’s fingers to her chest, right above her heart, which was beating too fast. A side effect of her alarm and not the running, but she didn’t have to know that. “Nothing’s out of the ordinary.” 

Daniela hesitated, then nodded and pulled her hand back. “Okay. But you’re sharing that routine with me later. You’ve definitely been holding out. Let’s just finish and head home before I collapse and you have to carry me.”

They resumed at a slower pace. This time, Sophia kept herself carefully in check. She shortened her stride, let her breathing grow heavier, even wiped at her forehead as though there might be sweat there. She matched Daniela step for step all the way back.

On their walk home, while Daniela stretched against a railing and complained about her calves, Sophia discreetly searched for the most brutal workout routines she could find.

If she was going to lie, she needed something convincing.

3

“Fuck you, that was an easy one!” Manon shouted at the TV, throwing her hands up as a player bricked a wide-open shot. “You’d be tied if you took your head out of your ass!”

“Babe. Inside voice. Dani’s on the phone,” Sophia said, plopping down on the couch beside her and stretching her legs. “And plus, I don’t think they can hear you through the screen.”

“Wouldn’t matter even if they could,” Manon muttered, grabbing the pack of M&Ms she’d pulled from the fridge and tossing a few into her mouth. “They’d still make stupid mistakes anyway.” She offered the bag to Sophia, who took a couple without looking away from the game. 

One of the players on the opposing team sank a three-pointer, and the crowd on the screen erupted, earning a pained groan from Manon. “We’re going to lose,” she grumbled, shoveling more chocolate into her mouth. “It’s like they knew I had money on this game. Stupid Megan.“

Sophia laughed. “You bet Megan on the Lakers game? Against the Celtics?” She reached for more M&M’s. “You basically handed her your money.”

Manon turned slowly to stare at her. 

“What?” Sophia said. 

“Now you tell me?? Where were you last week?”

“I didn’t know! I would’ve told you. Why’d you pick the Lakers?” 

“Gee, I don’t know, Sophia. Because they’re the home team? Who doesn’t pick the home team?”

She gestured dramatically with the candy packet in her hand, and the next second the bag tipped. M&M’s scattered across the hardwood, bouncing and rolling in every direction.

Sophia’s fingers twitched.

Her brain went numb. Her body seized up, going rigid. 

Before Manon could even lean forward, Sophia was already off the couch and on her knees, staring at the spill. The world narrowed to bright pieces of color against the floor. 

Count them. 

The thought came sharp and immediate. Count them all. Know how many. 

She was already moving, grouping them four at a time without consciously deciding to. Four. Eight. Twelve. She scanned under the couch, spotting two that had rolled into the shadow. Sixteen. Twenty. 

She was halfway through when she felt Manon’s eyes on her. 

“What?” Sophia blinked up.

“What are you doing?” Manon asked, not unkindly, just confused.

“I have to.” Sophia looked back down, fingers moving quickly. “It’s—I can’t help it. I need to know how many fell.” 

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just do.” She hesitated for a second too long and lost track. The irritation hit instantly, hot and sharp. “Now I have to start over,” she muttered, pressing her palm flat to the floor as if steadying herself.”

“Sophia—”

“It’s... it’s an obsessive-compulsive thing, okay?” The words came out defensive. She began again. Four. Eight. Twelve. “I’ve had this problem since I was little. I just... have to count it all.”

Manon opened her mouth, then paused. “Do you want help?”

“No.” The answer was immediate. Her brows furrowed in concentration at the growing piles she was creating. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“Right,” Manon said softly, though she didn’t sound convinced.

On the TV, the Celtics scored again, but Manon didn’t react this time. Her attention had shifted entirely. She watched Sophia instead, who was murmuring numbers under her breath, scanning the floor for strays, making sure she hadn’t missed any.

Sophia exhaled, tension draining all at once. She’d counted thirty-two—Manon had spilled almost the entire bag. She swept them up into her hand and dropped them straight into the kitchen trash without hesitation, wiping her hands on her leggings before heading back to the living room. 

“Sorry,” she said, returning to the couch.

Manon had her phone in her hand now, but she wasn’t really looking at it. “It’s fine,” she said after a moment.

Neither of them mentioned it when Daniela rejoined them after her call. But Sophia couldn’t shake the feeling that the moment had shifted something. That sooner or later, she’d have to explain why she reacted like that. 

But for now, her cover was safe. Sort of. I’ll tell them, she thought. Soon. Just... not tonight.

And so another night passed in silence.

4

Sophia carefully opened her fridge, nestling the packets of blood her parents had arranged to be delivered. Apparently, their “connection” was finally able to restock. 

She shut the door, wishing not for the first time that there was a locking system to it. 

It was just a tiny rectangular skincare fridge, the kind influencers kept serums in. She’d tucked it in the back corner of the closet behind a stack of shoe boxes. She didn’t use it often, since she didn’t need blood as often as full-blooded vampires did, but she still had to keep a stock for the times she did need it. So far, she’s managed to hide the fridge and its contents from Daniela and Manon, but the fact that she’d only recently moved in with them made her uneasy. There’s no telling how long she can keep it hidden for. 

It wasn’t like she was expecting them to go through her things, it was just a feeling that they might accidentally find it and curiously open the mysterious fridge that’s strangely appeared in their closet and find out the only thing in it was blood. Sometimes she’d come home and be half-expecting them to be waiting in the doorway with their arms crossed and a half-dozen packets of blood strewn on the counter behind them and demand she explain. 

But they never were, and eventually she relaxed. 

Which was, in hindsight, a huge fucking mistake. 

She’d been careless tonight. It had been weeks since she’d last fed, and the hunger had crept up quietly until it wasn’t quiet at all. She’d forced down half a packet straight from the fridge, cold and metallic against her tongue. If she’d been alone, she would’ve warmed it. Now she didn’t have that luxury.

She shoved the half-empty packet back inside and slammed the fridge shut just as Daniela walked into the bedroom.

Sophia stood too quickly, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. Don’t look suspicious. Don’t look guilty.

Daniela didn’t seem to notice, merely getting ready for bed, already changing into her sleep shorts. She managed to exhale relief, then quickly padded into the kitchen to finish off the dishes. Manon was in the shower, music muffled behind the bathroom door—nothing to worry about. 

Sophia popped her headphones in, turned the volume up, and started on the dishes, losing track of time with monotonous labor. She never liked to use the dishwasher; washing them by hand felt cleaner to her. She fell into an easy rhythm, humming along to whatever show tune had come up on shuffle.

That’s why she didn’t hear the first yell. 

She was sliding a plate into the rack and was just reaching for another when someone yanked one of her earbuds out, making her spin around. Daniela was standing there, wide-eyed and horrified in her pajamas. Manon was beside her, dripping wet and wrapped in nothing but a towel, soap still sticking to her legs and water pooling at her feet like she’d been mid-shower.

Sophia froze. 

Shit, her brain supplied unhelpfully. Shit, shit shit shit shitshitshitshit—

“It’s blood,” she blurted. 

“We see that,” Daniela said tightly. In her hand, she held one of the packets. “What was it doing hidden in a secret fridge in our closet?”

“Did you go through my—?” 

“You left it open,” Daniela cut in. “I felt cold air on my feet when I went in to grab my outfit for tomorrow. I thought it was a draft. Then I saw the fridge.” She shook the packet slightly and Sophia felt her stomach drop. 

“I… it’s not..that’s not what it looks like.” She stammers, her brain running through excuses so fast she thought the gears in there would catch fire. “....it’s decorative.” 

Daniela stared at her. “Seriously?”

Sophia nodded, her mouth dry. She swallowed. 

“It’s March...” Manon said slowly.

“No, I mean—I was planning a prank. It’s fake blood. I was hiding it.”

Daniela and Manon exchanged a look.

“In a fridge,” Daniela said.

“In the closet,” Manon added.

“The instructions said to keep it cold,” Sophia said, clinging to the first thing that sounded remotely plausible. “I couldn’t exactly put it in the kitchen fridge.”

“This is… a lot of fake blood, Sophia,” Daniela said. 

“What even is the prank?” Manon asked.

“It’s…um..I haven’t figured that out yet,” Sophia admitted. “They were having a sale. I just bought the rest.”

Manon studied her for another second, then gave a slow shrug. “Oookay. I mean… I guess that checks out.” She started down the hallway, tightening the towel around herself. “I’m going back to the shower Dani so prematurely dragged me out of.”

“I’m sorry, I was scared!” Daniela protested. “I thought it was like some…cultish thing.”

“You thought I was in a cult!?” Sophia said, incredulous. 

“Sophia, you were hiding blood in our closet. Literally what was I supposed to think?” 

“And she totally blue-balled me,” Manon called from the bathroom doorway. “I thought she was barging in to join me. Not yank me out mid-shampoo.”

“Okay, whatever. Don't throw me under the bus. You thought it was weird too!” Daniela shot back. 

Manon just laughed, disappearing into the bathroom. A second later, the shower kicked back on, music resuming as if nothing had happened.

Daniela looked at Sophia again, searching her face. “Do you want me to put this back?”

Sophia forced a laugh. “No. I’ll handle it. I’m probably going to throw it out, prank’s ruined now.”

She absolutely could not afford to toss it, but she would definitely have to find a new hiding spot.

Daniela hesitated, then nodded and went back toward the bedroom.

The second she was alone, Sophia exhaled so hard her knees nearly buckled.

Shit, her brain said again. That was close. Too close. Way too fucking close. Thank God they hadn’t smelled the stuff on her breath. She made a mental note to brush her teeth twice before she went to bed. 

She really was fucked, wasn’t she?

5

“I’ve had a long, horrible day,” Manon announced as she walked in, kicking the door shut behind her. “It was long, and horrible.” 

She dropped her bag on the floor, toed off her shoes, and promptly climbed onto the couch between Sophia and Daniela—which was a feat, since there had been no space between them at all. 

“I want cuddles,” she declared, settling herself comfortably.  

Daniela laughed immediately and leaned in, covering her face with kisses. “Aww. Besitos para mi cariño.”

Manon squirmed as Sophia joined the attack from the other side. “I said cuddles, not kisses.”

“Cuddles come with kisses,” Sophia said, wrapping her arms around her waist and tugging her closer. “It’s law in this household.”

Manon huffed but melted into them anyway, resting her head against Sophia’s shoulder. Daniela leaned into Manon’s other side, and before long, the three of them had settled into that quiet, heavy stillness that came from being tangled together with nowhere else to be.

“Why was your day so horrible?” Daniela asked, and Manon sighed. 

“Well. I spilled my matcha on my pants this morning, and I couldn’t get it all out, so it dried weird and looked like I peed myself. Then I cracked my phone when it fell out of my pocket during my workout. And before that, my AirPods were dead, so I had to exercise in silence like a loser.”

Sophia hummed sympathetically.

“And on the walk home,” Manon continued, “I got a cramp in my calf and almost ate it on the stairs. Plus, I had a terrible waffle for breakfast. It was awful. An awful waffle.”

Sophia smiled into her hair. “My poor baby. I told Dani those waffles were burnt.”

Daniela immediately reached over to swat Sophia’s thigh. “That is not my fault. I told you I didn’t know how to use your fancy toaster.”

“It’s a regular toaster,” Sophia said flatly.

“No, it has a screen!” Daniela insisted.

Manon laughed, the sound warm and loose now that she’d relaxed. They stayed like that for a while, half-watching whatever had autoplayed on the TV. The room was dim, the blanket pooled over their legs. Sophia could feel herself drifting.

Then Manon stiffened slightly and shifted closer to Daniela.

“Jesus, Sophia,” she mumbled sleepily. “Your hands are really cold.”

Sophia frowned and instinctively pulled them back from where they’d been resting against Manon’s thigh. “Sorry.”

It’s not that she had zero body heat; it was just less than that of a normal human body. It always took her a while to warm up. 

“You’re just now noticing that?” Daniela yawned. “Her hands are always ice blocks.”

“I noticed,” Manon said, eyes half-closed. “It’s just… it’s warm in here. We’ve been sitting like this forever. I thought they’d warm up by now.”

“Low iron,” Sophia offered quickly. “Probably.”

Manon made a vague humming noise and tugged more of the blanket over Sophia’s lap. “Hmm. Weird.”

Sophia tightened her arms around her and focused, letting her body adjust, heat slowly rising to match Manon’s. It was a trick she’d practiced for years. Sometimes it worked easily. Sometimes it didn’t. Clearly, they noticed anyway. 

By the time their breathing evened out, the three of them tangled together in a warm, quiet heap, she had forgotten all about the cold hands dilemma, and she’d managed to let herself be pulled into a restful sleep. 

+1

Sophia almost cancelled twice.

She’d invited the rest of the girls over for dinner three days ago in a burst of determination. If she set a date, she couldn’t back out. That had been the logic.

Now the apartment was full of overlapping voices and low music. Manon had insisted on setting the table “like we’re adults,” which meant cloth napkins and the nice glasses. Daniela was finishing the salad in the kitchen, swatting Sophia away every time she hovered too close to the counter.

The other girls had arrived ten minutes ago and were already arguing loudly in the living room about something that had happened at rehearsal.

Everything was normal. Which somehow made it worse because Sophia very well knew that after this, things may never be this normal again. 

Sophia stood at the stove, staring at the pot in front of her without really seeing it. She didn’t need to eat what she’d cooked, she’d taken care of herself earlier. But she’d insisted on making dinner anyway, partly because she knew if she left it to Daniela and Manon there was a very real chance nothing would actually be edible and vampire or not, she was a gracious host. And partly because, selfishly, Filipino food was easier to pretend to eat than almost anything else.

“You okay?” Daniele murmured. “You’ve been staring into that pot for, like, five minutes.” 

Sophia startles, then forces a smile. “Y-yeah, I’m…just watching it. Don’t want anything to burn.” 

Daniela leaned in and peered into the pot. “Hard to burn something with the stovetop turned off.” 

Sophia blinked, then glanced down at the cold burner. “Right.” She shook her head lightly, as if clearing it. “I guess I’ll start plating.”

The girls gathered around the table, passing plates and drinks. Megan made a joke about a tweet she’d seen earlier. Lara launched into a dramatic retelling of a failed date, with Yoonchae and Manon chiming in to heckle her at every opportunity. Conversation and laughter flowed easily around the table. And Sophia tried to soak it all in. She really did. But her mind was racing with the bomb she was planning to drop. Every close call: the fridge, the counting, the cold hands. She was so tired of lying. 

Sophia picked at her food, making sure to actually swallow small bites so it didn’t look suspicious. She forced herself to laugh at the right moments. Nodded at the right times. Manon reached under the table and squeezed her knee. A quiet way to check in, as if she noticed Sophia’s mind racing. It gave Sophia the edge to finally make her announcement. 

She set her fork down. The clink against the plate was louder than it should have been and the conversation faltered.

“I—” She stopped.

Okay. This was it. No turning back now.

“I need to tell you guys something.”

Daniela straightened immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sophia said quickly.

Manon frowned. “That’s what people say before something is definitely wrong.”

Sophia’s pulse started to climb, her anxiety pulsing from her in waves. Her vision spotted faintly at the edges. 

“I just… I’ve been lying. Kind of. Not— not about anything like cheating or—” She stopped herself before she spiraled further.

“Are you sick?” Yoonchae asked gently.

“No.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No.”

“Are we in trouble?” Manon asked, half-joking, half-not.

Sophia dragged a hand through her hair. She could feel herself physically getting ill, almost faint. Ridiculous, considering. 

“Okay,” Daniela said carefully. “Breathe.”

That almost made Sophia laugh. Breathe. She looked around the table, eyes settling on the people she loved. Just hoping silently that they wouldn’t hate her after this. They were all starting expectantly at her, evidently, waiting for her to go on. “I’m.. a vampire. Well, half technically. My dad is a vampire.” She pauses, trying to gauge their reactions. “I’m not human.”

She half expected everyone to clamber away from the table in fear, maybe run out of the apartment completely, something. Instead, she’s met with silence. A beat passes, then two. 

Manon tilted her head. “Okay.” 

Sophia looks at her, confused. “Okay?” 

Lara burst out laughing. “Girl. We been knew.” 

Megan nearly choked on her drink. “Wait. That was the big announcement?” 

“I don't understand.” Sophia said weakly. 

“Sophia,” Manon said, hand over her chest in relief, “this is the most non-news thing you could’ve said. We figured it out like two months ago. I thought you were about to tell us you were dying or something.” 

“But… you guys… you’re not scared?”

Yoonchae shrugged. “Are you going to hurt us?” 

“No,” Sophia said immediately. The word came from somewhere deep and unshakable. “Never.”

“Then we don’t care,” Daniela said simply. A murmur of agreement followed. Sophia felt the weight that’s been sitting on her chest for months suddenly lifted, it almost made her dizzy.

“You guys aren’t even surprised?” 

Megan leaned back in her chair, a picture of nonchalance. “I mean, we were, at first. But it was pretty obvious after a while. We were just waiting on you to tell us when you were ready.” 

“Obvious?” 

Daniela gave her an unimpressed look. “Sophia, babe, we found your stash of blood in our closet, there was aboslutely nothing subtle about that.”

And let’s not forget your ‘garlic allergy,’” Megan added, air-quoting.

“You don’t sweat. Ever,” Lara said.

“And your obsessive counting thing.” Manon added. 

“And your sun sensitivity.” Yoonchae chimed in. 

“And—” 

“Okay, I get it.” Sophia cut in. “It was obvious.” 

“Very,” Lara confirmed. 

“So now that it’s out in the air,” Manon said, eyes gleaming with curiosity, “ I need to ask you something important.” 

Sophia stiffened. “Yeah?” 

“Can you sparkle?” 

The table erupted in laughter as Sophia rolls her eyes. “Ha. Ha. No. I don’t sparkle,” she says. “Twilight is so inaccurate, it’s actually painful to watch. I hate baseball. I can’t read your thoughts. And I would never creep into a girl’s bedroom to watch her sleep. That’s just weird.” 

“Damn,” Manon said. “Way to ruin the fantasy.” 

“Can you turn into a bat?” Megan pressed. “Hypnotize people? Do you sleep in a coffin?”

Sophia frowned. “No. Those are stereotypes. Honestly, a little offensive.”

“Don’t be vampcist, Megan.” Lara teases. 

Daniela’s tone shifted slightly. Softer. “Are you going to live forever?”

“No.” Sophia shakes her head. “I’m half human. I age like the rest of you do.” 

“What about fangs?” Yoonchae asked. “Your teeth look normal to me.”

“They’re retractable mostly. They grow longer when I’m hungry or when the moon is full.” 

Manon flushes and Daniela nudges her with an elbow. “Manon totally wants you to bite her.” 

“Shut up.” Manon whines, but she doesnt deny it.

Laughter rolled across the table again and this time Sophia joined in fully, heart full of love and warmth. Finally herself, no pretending or lying.