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Megan’s pick of poison for studying (read: intense procrastination sessions) was usually the loud floor of the main campus library. As always, she went in with the foolish yet full-hearted belief that the chattering of group projects and clicking of keyboards would motivate her (it never did).
Today, she has her history textbook open to a page explaining the Magna Carta’s origins and influence… which she had flipped to approximately fifteen minutes ago and had yet to read a single page of. After all, the texts popping up on her computer screen demand her attention.
And, she has important news to share with the group chat.
Megan: the hot grad student is here again
Dani: how do u know shes a grad student
Megan: vibes
Lara: TAKE A PIC
Megan: ew no thats weird
Megan: i think she got new glasses
Manon: j gay as hell
Megan stifles a giggle, pressing her knuckle to her lips. No one even spares her muffled laughter a glance. Her laughter just lingers beneath the noise of students arguing loudly over their economics problem set next to her.
She lets her eyes drift across the rows of students, trying to deduce why each one was here. The people typing a little too quickly on their computers are definitely texting or playing a typing game, and the people with whiteboards out, arguing, are probably pre-med students. She’s pretty sure that the polygons are orgo.
Eventually, her eyes land on a familiar target, sitting with the best posture in the entire library. Megan does not know her name — at least not yet — and internally refers to her as the ‘hot grad student.’ And yes, she is hot.
The graduate student is at one of the solo desks near a window, and the glow of her laptop screen gently illuminates her face. Today, glasses rest low on her nose bridge, and she wears an oversized black hoodie, the sleeves rolled up.
Megan can’t help but stare. She sighs dreamily, propping her chin on her hand. It’s ridiculous, this level of crush, over someone she has only ever seen from afar. But every time the graduate student’s dark eyes flick up or look around the room, Megan’s heart stutters.
Megan’s computer dings, and she rapidly turns down the volume before returning her attention to her co-conspirators.
Lara: are you even studying??
Megan: kinda
Megan: shes wearing a really comfy looking hoodie today
Dani: just go talk to her
Megan: and say what???
Manon: Link: WikiHow: How to Talk to a Girl (with Pictures)
Megan: u guys suck :(
Suddenly, ‘hot grad student’ closes her laptop and begins to move. Megan watches her tuck her laptop into a worn canvas bag. Then she rises, still with an impossibly straight back, and lifts her gaze. It sweeps over the library before it settles directly on Megan.
Megan’s breath gets caught in her throat, a wheeze forces its way out of her lungs and her ears ignite a bright red.
A small, almost shy smile pulls at the corner of the ‘hot grad student’s’ lip.
Okay, so, that was for sure eye contact.
Without looking, Megan types:
Megan: i can die now
Megan: she smiled at me
Manon: YOOOOOO
Lara: SHE SMILED AT YOU?!?!?
Megan leans back, and a giddy, triumphant smile spreads across her face. Maybe this is the motivation she needs to read a singular textbook chapter. The hot grad student had smiled at her.
So, naturally, after the Great Smile Incident of 2025. Megan spends the next few days doing research for something other than her midterms. She lingers in the library, hoping that the graduate student will reappear. She skims through different on-campus student groups’ Instagrams, all for naught.
Dani: so did u figure out who she is yet
Megan: NO :(
Dani: maybe you made her up
Megan: rude
Lara: u might j have to find and talk to her
Megan: ugh no
It’s a Tuesday afternoon, an entire week after “the Incident,” and Megan has lost hope, deciding that the cute grad student had probably finished her midterms and, like any normal person, elected to avoid the library until dire times struck once more.
Megan sits at her usual spot, reading lecture slides and copying notes — miraculously actually studying for her midterm.
But then, the elevator doors near the main entrance chime.
And there she is, the graduate student, wearing a leather jacket and baseball cap. Her dark eyes scan over the nearly full library.
Megan follows the graduate student’s sweep of the library; it is pretty full, but then she looks directly across from her and — oh. The person who for the last hour had been sitting across from her was gone, and right in front of her lay the only empty seat at the table.
She looks up again.
Oh my god. A graduate student is walking toward Megan’s table. Oh my god, she is not stopping.
This was it. Her mind races, frantically searching for something intelligent, something cool to say when the graduate student she has been pining over finally reaches the table. Megan’s palms are sweaty. She braces herself for disaster. She stares at her open laptop, praying that a magical one-liner to say will start shining from the slides.
“Excuse me,” a voice murmurs.
Megan nearly jumps out of her skin. She looks up, her eyes wide, to find the graduate student standing across from her, hovering just behind the empty chair. She has one hand holding the back of the chair.
Megan swallows, her mouth suddenly very, very dry. “Oh! Um. Hi?”
“I was wondering if this seat is taken?” She gestures to the empty chair.
“No! No, it's totally free!” Megan blurts, probably too enthusiastically.
The graduate student’s smile widens slightly, her eyes crinkling at the corners behind her glasses. She slides gracefully into the chair, placing her canvas bag beside her and pulling her laptop out of it.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice soft.
Think Megan. Think!
“What’s your name?”
Nailed it.
“Sophia.”
Megan’s brain does a record scratch. Sophia. Her name is Sophia. No longer just “hot graduate student,” not “library crush,” but Sophia. She stares, probably a little too intently, at Sophia. Sophia, who now calmly opens her laptop, her fingers move with graceful precision over the keys. She seems blissfully unaware of Megan’s internal meltdown happening across from her.
“Megan,” she finally manages. “I’m Megan.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Megan,” Sophia says.
“Yeah, you too! Uh, I mean, it's nice to meet you, Sophia. I... I see you here a lot.” She winces immediately. She sounds so lame.
“Me too.” Thankfully, Sophia’s smile widens. “You usually sit here, right?”
Megan’s eyes flick down to her open laptop, displaying the now-neglected lecture slides. “Oh, yeah! Um… I’ve been here a lot because I need to study for my history class… I don’t really like history, to be honest… I prefer, like, math and stuff…”
Megan trails off, the ramble dying on her lips when she sees Sophia’s patient stare.
Sophia hums, then turns to her laptop.
Megan immediately opens her group chat.
Megan: HER NAME IS SOPHIA
Megan: AND SHES SITTING ACROSS FROM ME
Dani: NO WAY
Manon: and you’re not talking to her???
Megan dislikes Manon’s message.
She glances up, cautiously, at Sophia. Sophia looks focused on her screen, her eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration. Megan wonders what Sophia studies, absently, probably something in the humanities. She gives that vibe. Maybe that’s why she didn’t have a response when Megan said she didn’t like history. Fumble.
The two of them work in silence, or Sophia works, and Megan texts her friends.
Megan tries and fails to read lecture slides, taps her leg aggressively on the ground, and does her best to focus on a Wikipedia page.
“Megan?”
Megan’s head shoots up, “Yeah?”
“I’m about to take a break,” Sophia says, closing her laptop with one finger.
“Do you want me to watch your stuff?” Megan asks, fidgeting with her fingers.
“Oh,” Sophia pauses, she purses her lips. “I was actually going to ask if you wanted to grab coffee?”
Megan slams her laptop shut. “Yes!” She proclaims, a little too enthusiastically. However, the enthusiasm is at least sixty percent attributed to the promise of caffeine.
“Wonderful,” Sophia says. She leans down to put her laptop into her bag and stands up. “There’s a place just off campus. Do you mind walking?”
“Walk? Oh, no! I love a walk!” Megan chirps, practically vibrating with excitement. She shoves her own laptop into her bag with frantic, clumsy movements, nearly knocking over her water bottle. She can barely believe that this is actually happening. She’s getting coffee with Sophia. A date. Okay, probably not a date, but it is something.
“No rush,” Sophia advises, as Megan stumbles out of her chair, slinging her backpack precariously over one shoulder.
“Ready!” Megan announces, breathlessly. She almost trips on her own feet as she follows Sophia, who moves with effortless fluidity towards the library exit. This is going to be the best coffee ever. She wonders if it’s a place Megan has never been to — she’s pretty sure she has a solid conception of every coffee shop in a five-mile radius.
The coffee shop of Sophia’s choice turns out to be one of the coffee shops that Megan has not been to by some miracle. It is busy, but it has a certain warmth to it. It’s light green walls and natural wood. Monstera plants sit in the corners. Other plants Megan cannot identify spill over windowsills.
Megan gets an iced vanilla latte — with whole milk, she clarifies, because the coffee shop seems like the type to default to oat milk — and Sophia gets a black coffee, which makes Megan feel pretentious.
Sophia insists on paying for both, a battle she won when she pulled out a black card.
They find a small, sun-bleached wooden table by the window. Megan still rides a wave of giddy disbelief that she was actually here, with Sophia.
“So,” Megan starts, carefully cradling her iced latte and trying to be cool. “What are you, like, studying?”
“I’m in graduate school. My focus is on the history of ancient empires. Their rise and fall, the societal structures, belief systems… everything.” Sophia’s voice, usually so calm, seems to actively suppress excitement around the topic.
“Whoa,” Megan breathes, genuinely impressed (a little impressed at herself, too, for nailing down that Sophia was a graduate student). “Did you always know you wanted to do that? Study history?”
“No,” Sophia says plainly. “Not always. For a very long time, I actually… I used to want to be a performer.”
Megan blinks, surprised. “A performer? Like… singing? Dancing? On a stage?”
“Yes. Something like that,” Sophia laughs. “It was a long time ago, though.”
The conversation flows easily after that, shifting naturally from campus gossip to the best study spots, with Sophia doing a surprising amount of the talking. Megan feels as if she could listen to Sophia talk forever, utterly captivated by the way Sophia’s eyes would light up and get bigger whenever Megan brings up something she is also interested in.
Eventually, Sophia glances down at her wrist. A flash of silver catches the light — a watch that looks incredibly expensive, that Sophia then covers again with the sleeve of her hoodie. Her brows subtly furrow.
“Oh,” Sophia sighs. “I’m so sorry, Megan, but I really have to go. I completely lost track of time.”
“Oh, no worries!” Megan’s heart sinks a little, but she tries to compose her expression.” Thanks for the coffee, Sophia. This was… really great.”
“It was,” Sophia agrees, her gaze lingers on Megan for a beat longer than usual. “Megan, before I leave, could I get your number?”
Megan’s jaw drops slightly before she clears her throat to try to cover it.
“Oh! Uh, yeah! Here!” Megan fumbles for her phone, nearly dropping it in her excitement, quickly pulling up her contacts.
They exchange numbers, Sophia’s fingers brushing Megan’s. Megan’s skin buzzes from the contact.
“I’ll text you,” Sophia promises.
Sophia slips her phone into her pocket, offers Megan a final, lingering look, and then she is gone, disappearing into the bustling street.
Megan watches her go, a dazed, blissful smile on her face. She feels like she’s floating. She has Sophia’s number! Megan slowly gathers her bag, still grinning like an idiot.
She reaches for Sophia’s forgotten coffee cup to clear the table, and when Megan picks it up. It feels heavy. And full. Megan frowns and opens up the lid. The coffee is cold, and it seems like Sophia did not take a single sip.
The casual study and coffee dates became a staple in Megan’s life after that. Sophia always ordered black coffee and never drank it, and Megan never quite understood why. She just assumed Sophia liked the idea or the look of coffee, or maybe just the warmth of the cup in her hands.
Megan, meanwhile, would usually down two iced vanilla lattes for the caffeine, which Sophia always insisted on paying for, handing Megan her card without a second thought whenever Megan stood up to order another.
Sophia was, to Megan's surprise and delight, a total yapper when she got going on her favorite subjects. Sophia would lean forward, her eyes growing huge and sparkling with an almost childlike wonder, her voice a rapid, excited flow of words. Megan loved it. She'd just sit there, nursing her latte, utterly charmed, asking dumb or obvious questions to keep Sophia talking.
Megan's phone vibrates from her back pocket, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Sorry,” Megan apologizes. “Sorry, I have to check this.”
“No worries,” Sophia responds gently.
Of course, it is the group chat with Lara, Dani, and Manon. She really needs to take away the group chat’s superceding do-not-disturb privileges.
Lara: dude are you guys official yet
Megan: have these been dates the whole time??
Manon: i have a plan
Manon: you invite her to your apartment for a movie, very chill, then boom youre making out on the couch.
Megan laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. She nearly spills her iced latte, and Sophia’s hand darts out to steady it.
“Sorry,” Megan squeaks, but Sophia just shakes her head and lowers her gaze back down to her notes.
Megan: ok but what if she says no
Dani: she fs won't. she clearly likes you back.
Manon: just do it. invite her over. u wont.
Megan stares at her phone, then back at her computer, then up at Sophia.
Studying suddenly seemed even more irrelevant. Invite Sophia over? For a movie night? Alone? The idea was terrifying. Yet… irresistible
“Hey, Sophia?”
Sophia glances up.
“Would you maybe want to possibly come over to my place and watch a movie?” Megan asks, the words rushing together.
Sophia blinks.
“Like, right now?” Sophia asks.
“I mean, it doesn’t have to be,” Megan backtracks, her heart a little quicker.
“No, that would be good. I think I need the break anyway,” Sophia says. There is a small, almost imperceptible tremor in her hand as she slides her laptop into her bag. “Just lead the way.”
Megan has to stop herself from skipping the walk from the library to her apartment, focusing on Sophia walking slowly beside her.
When they reach Megan’s apartment door. Megan fumbles with her keychain, her hands suddenly clumsy with nerves. After an embarrassing amount of time, she gets the door open, steps inside, and turns to gesture for Sophia to come in.
Sophia, however, remains rooted on the welcome mat, playing with her hands with uncharacteristic nervousness.
Megan blinks, confused at the change in attitude.
“You can come in, you know,” Megan says. She turns to drop her bag by the door.
Sophia follows her in.
Megan’s apartment is small, cozy — a mismatched collection of furniture, textbooks scattered across the table, and a few dying plants on the windowsill. It certainly is nothing to write home about, but it is hers. And she’s proud of that.
“You can sit down if you want.” Megan gestures toward her couch. “I, uh, can get you some tea or something.”
Sophia looks around the apartment curiously, then slowly makes her way to the couch.
Megan leans against the counter, trying to busy herself by gathering a few things, though her hands shake slightly.
“So... I guess this is... kind of a big step, huh?” She chuckles.
Sophia does not respond immediately. Instead, she watches Megan fumble about.
“I suppose it is,” Sophia settles on, smiling.
Megan joins her on the couch, setting down her gathered snacks.
Then Sophia turns to Megan, and the distance between them is ever so small.
Oh, okay, Megan thinks, her heart going a hundred miles a minute. This is it. We’re about to kiss.
Sophia’s hand gently cups Megan’s cheek, her thumb traces the line of Megan’s jaw. Her hand is cold against Megan’s skin, her touch soft. Sophia’s pupils are blown wide, and search Megan’s face.
“You’re warm,” Sophia husks, her thumb slips down to Megan’s neck. Megan wonders if she can feel her pulse. Sophia’s hand shakes against her skin, but it could be Megan shaking just as well.
“Uh, yeah?” Megan giggles nervously, her cheeks hot. “Is that… good.”
“I — yes.” Sophia drops her hand suddenly and draws them into her lap, much to Megan’s confusion. She clears her throat, and her eyes are trained on her own hands. “So, what movie were you thinking of?”
“Oh! Right, movie! Um, I have a few options…” Megan trails off, needing a moment to recalibrate. “Anything you're in the mood for? Action? Comedy?" She laughed nervously, trying to lighten the awkwardness.
“I think a comedy sounds nice,” Sophia mumbles. She settles deeper into the couch, but her gaze stays fixed on Megan.
Megan scrolls through her streaming options, humming absently to herself. She settles on a ridiculously cheesy rom-com from the early 2000s, complete with poorly aged fashion choices and an overly enthusiastic soundtrack. Sophia watches the opening credits with bewilderment, which Megan finds utterly charming.
They sit shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch, a comfortable silence settling between them, punctuated by the movie’s dialogue and Megan’s occasional commentary. Megan couldn’t help but feel comfortable around Sophia and finds herself melting into her, the nervous tension in her chest beginning to unravel.
Halfway through the movie, during a particularly sappy declaration of love from the male lead, Megan feels Sophia shift beside her. She glances over. Sophia’s eyes are not on the movie. She stares at Megan’s face.
Sophia slowly, as if entranced, reaches out. Her cool fingers familiarly brush Megan’s cheek, then trace the line of her jaw, just as she had earlier. This time, Megan is certain of the intent. Her thumb drifts to Megan’s lower lip, pulling it down slightly. Sophia leans in, slowly, giving Megan every chance to pull away. But Megan doesn’t. She leans in too, her own hand rises, tentative, to rest on Sophia’s bicep.
Their breaths mingle, hesitant, just before their lips finally meet.
The kiss is soft to begin, a tentative question. But quickly, Megan allows herself to melt into the kiss. Sophia’s hand moves from Megan’s jaw to cup the back of her neck, keeping her close. Sophia’s lips are cool and plush; her lip gloss smears across both of their faces. Megan moves on instinct, tangling her hands into Sophia’s long and dark waves. Sophia groans into the kiss, and her lips become more insistent.
Megan’s heart feels like it is going to jump out of her chest through her ribs. All the long gazes across the library, the anticipation, the awkward flirting, had all come to a head.
Sophia pulls back enough to break the kiss and rests her forehead against Megan. Her breaths are short, shallow intakes of air.
“Wow,” Megan manages, breathless herself. “Wow.”
Sophia’s lips curve into a smile, but her gaze remains intense, lingering on Megan’s mouth, then drifting to her neck, then back up again to meet Megan’s eyes.
“You really are… something, Megan,” Sophia murmurs, her voice low, almost a purr. Her thumb traces the sensitive skin of Megan's neck, just above her carotid.
Megan giggles, feeling light-headed. “You're not so bad yourself, Sophia.”
She leans back in. They find a familiar rhythm in the kiss. Sophia’s cold hands slide from Megan’s neck down her back, pressing her closer, until there is no space left between them. Megan gasps into the kiss, her fingers digging gently into Sophia’s scalp. Sophia’s lips move against her hungrily, and a low, almost guttural growl vibrates in Sophia’s chest, sending a shiver straight down Megan’s spine.
Sophia breaks the kiss to begin trailing kisses along the corner of Megan’s mouth, her jaw, her neck. Sophia’s breath is hot against her skin, and then, there is a sharp pinprick, like when the doctor’s office takes your blood.
Megan gasps and flinches back.
Sophia is frozen, her head bowed and body tense.
Megan brings a hand to her neck, and when she pulls her hand away, there is a smear of blood on her fingertips.
“What the fuck?” is all she can manage.
“I’m sorry,” Sophia mumbles, her chest heaving.
Her mind, usually so quick to dismiss Sophia’s oddities, suddenly connects every single one. The never-drunk coffee. The cold touch. And now… this. The blood. The dilated eyes.
“Oh my god,” Megan whispers. “Are you… Are you a vampire?”
Sophia’s face, usually so serene, crumples. Sophia reaches out, her hand trembling, as if to touch Megan again, then stops, pulling it back into herself and holding it.
“I didn’t bite you,” Sophia states, her voice strained.
Megan’s voice, though shaky, held a surprising edge. “Why am I bleeding then?” She holds up her fingertips smeared with blood to Sophia, who looks away quickly.
“I… I wanted to. But I didn’t. They — I just poked you. You’re okay. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.” Sophia’s shoulders slump, and she keeps her gaze averted. “I thought I would be able to control it, but when I feel too much emotion, it just kind of… happens.”
A stunned silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant, tinny dialogue of the forgotten rom-com.
Megan’s initial shock slowly, very slowly, begins to morph. The fear, of course, remains, but it is surprisingly muted, overshadowed by disbelief, fascination, and… curiosity. Her brain keeps returning to the simple fact that this is Sophia.
Megan’s eyes, still wide, drift from the tiny red spots on her fingertips to Sophia’s face.
Sophia looks utterly miserable, her gaze fixated on her own hands.
“You… you wanted to?” Megan clarifies. “Like, you tried to bite me?”
Sophia flinches, nodding slowly, her dark hair falling forward to hide her face partially. “I… I didn't mean to. I lost control for a moment. But I stopped. I swear. I would never….”
Megan finds herself strangely undaunted. More bewildered, perhaps. And utterly fascinated. She slowly reaches out and gently lifts Sophia’s chin. Sophia’s skin is still cool, but her eyes, when they finally meet Megan’s, are watery, shimmering with unshed tears.
“Are you serious right now?” Megan whispers excitedly. “My crush is a vampire? This is… this is wild! I'm dating a vampire!”
Sophia, meanwhile, still looks utterly miserable, like a puppy who’d just been scolded.
Megan’s delirious, excited giggles died down, quickly taken over by a soft, tender smile. She gently squeezes Sophia’s hand.
“Hey. Look at me,” she asks. She waits for Sophia to meet her eyes before speaking. “Sophia, this is… this is seriously the coolest thing that has ever happened to me.”
Sophia blinks, her expression a mix of profound confusion and a flicker of hope. “Cool?” she whispers.
“Cool and hot!” Megan clarifies, her smile widening. “Seriously! Think about it! You’re super smart, super mysterious, and the not drinking coffee thing totally makes sense now.” Megan’s eyes flickered down to Sophia's lips. “And those fangs? Sophia, those are definitely hot.”
Sophia’s mouth opens and closes, a faint flush warming her pale cheeks. A tiny smile tugs at the corner of her lips — and with it, her fangs subtly slipped into view.
“Oh, come on!” Megan pushes, leaning back against the couch cushions, her eyes sparkling. “Don’t tell me you don’t have some cool vampire stuff. Like, super speed? Can you turn into a bat? Do you have to sleep in a coffin? Because if you need a coffin, we might have to redecorate, but I’m willing to make space.” She gestures around her small living room with an open hand, completely serious.
Sophia laughs outright. She shook her head, her dark hair swaying. “No turning into a bat, unfortunately. And I sleep in a bed, just like you, although… not always.” She pauses. “As for super speed… let’s just say I can get places very quickly if I must.”
Megan’s eyes widen. “No way! Show me! Wait, no, don’t show me in here, you'’l break something. We’ll have to go outside. Or maybe the library, but really, really fast so no one sees.” She practically vibrates with excitement. “This is so cool! Does this mean you're immortal? Are you, like, hundreds of years old?”
Sophia hesitates, her gaze dropping for a moment to her hands, which she now clasps loosely in her lap.
“Megan,” she begins, her voice adopting a more serious, almost weary tone, “I’m not that old, just like…”
Megan leans forward with expectation.
“...300 years old.”
Megan’s jaw drops. Not in horror, but in pure, unadulterated awe.
“Three hundred years old?!” she parrots.
Sophia flinches.
Megan caught the brief flicker of sadness in Sophia’s eyes and softened immediately. Megan reaches out, taking Sophia’s cool hand in hers.
“No, it’s cool. And if you ever want to tell me about any of those years, I’m here. If you want to talk about the hard or the isolating parts, I’ll listen. But for now... can we just appreciate how ridiculously awesome it is that my incredibly smart, beautiful girlfriend is a vampire?”
“Girlfriend?” Sophia repeats, a faint, almost shy blush dusting her pale cheeks.
Megan’s cheeks flush a deeper red. “Well, yeah! Unless you don't want to be my girlfriend, in which case, that’s fine too, but I’m still gonna think you’re really cool.” She quickly rambles, suddenly feeling a little shy again.
Sophia leans in, not to bite, but to press a soft, cool kiss to Megan’s forehead.
“I would very much like to be your girlfriend, Megan,” she whispers against Megan’s skin.