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Somehow finding the strength to stand I slowly take in all the little details that make her apartment her.

Fake candles with LED fires gently swaying to the invisible breeze are scattered throughout the space.

Her tan-colored couch against the wall in the living room is covered in throw pillows and fuzzy blankets.

It makes me irrationally angry these inanimate objects get to cover Celine’s body and provide the warmth and comfort I’m desperate to give her.

A singular framed photo of flowers hangs above the seating area, a modest TV across from the set-up.

Books are piled up on the table. Slinking over I run my fingers across the fabrics splayed across the couch and bring them to my nose.

Delectable.

Mine.

My fangs drop of their own accord, and I run my tongue across them.

I’m due for a blood bag soon at the rate Celine is affecting me.

At my age I only need to feed every few weeks and only drink a certain caliber of bagged blood.

I’d never stoop to indulging myself on the filthy liquid that runs through my kills’ veins, that was equitable to sewer water.

I shiver in displeasure just thinking about it and drop onto the couch with a dopey smile when a pillow falls right on my face, surrounding me with her unique scent that reminds me of blackberries.

A soft swat on my arm hanging off the couch gives me pause since I know it’s not said pillow.

Lowering the pillow, I squint one eye open.

There’s a mass of black shadow with two yellow eyes staring at me from beside the couch.

A small tail swishes inquisitively behind the floofy black cat, and I turn on my side to better look at it.

We stare at each other in a silent battle of dominance before the cat jumps up onto my stomach and starts kneading my chest.

“Who might you be?” I stroke the kitty’s head, and it leans into my touch.

A metal jingle draws my attention, and I finger the small collar hanging around his neck.

“Midnight, huh?” I scratch under his chin which makes him purr like a motorboat.

Smiling I place the cat around my neck like a scarf to continue my tour of Celine’s apartment.

“I would’ve thought Celine would’ve given you a more unique name than that.

Like Bob. Or Hashbrown. Maybe Burnt Marshmallow.

” He seems to hum in pleasure at that name. “You like that one, do you?”

Knowing she’s at work, I explore her space to see what she likes. The way she darted out of my apartment and back over told me how much she valued this place and sought it out when she was uncomfortable.

I stroll into her bedroom and slowly catalogue everything I see.

A neatly organized closet with color-coded clothing, mostly black, draw my attention first. My footfalls are soundless as I walk over and place myself in the middle of the rack, sliding her clothing in half so I can stand comfortably.

Midnight continues to purr, not bothered by my actions.

Standing sentinel in the clothes for an indeterminate amount of time I spy a pile of clothes thrown off to the side on a chair.

I know they’re clean since the nefarious laundry detergent covers her natural scent.

I’ll go ahead and fold them for her.

Midnight hops off my shoulders when I tilt my back toward the bed and settles himself on top of her pillow. Snatching up the pile of clothes I deposit them on the end of the bed and get to folding. A scrap of lacy black peeks out from under her bed and I grab it.

Celine’s underwear.

Was this what she was wearing under her skimpy dress when we danced at the club? My nostrils flare as I inhale deeply and catch a vanilla undertone to her berry scent.

Did dancing with me turn her on? Her scent becomes more complex when she’s aroused.

My lips curve at the thought that I affect her like she does me.

I pocket the scrap of lace and continue to fold her shirts, pants, and socks.

Once I'm done, I set the finished folded clothes on the end of her bed. My eyes take in her room as I spin on my heel and look for anything else I can do to help. Dust glints on the mirror in the bathroom light when I flip the switch, so I find the glass cleaner and some paper towels before I get to work wiping it free. This turns into using her cordless vacuum to sweep the place up, organizing her fridge and freezer contents, and making sure her pillows are arranged perfectly. Truth be told her apartment isn’t a mess, but it looks much better now.

Hands on my hips I admire my hard work and notice the black cat eyeballing me from his perch on the couch now.

“What? You weren’t going to do any cleaning?” The bombastic side eye continues, and I scoff at him.

“I know what’ll win your heart.” Foil crinkles as I locate a treat bag tucked into the back corner of the kitchen counter and shake it. An almost feral meow sounds followed by scampering paws on the hardwood floor.

“That’s what I thought.” Tiny claws prick my jeans as Midnight attempts to climb my leg in desperate need of the treats. Still not sure how I feel about the name. I wonder if Celine will let me rename him.

“Simple creatures, aren’t we?” I toss a few of the tiny fish shaped treats on the ground and he runs after them. “Blindsided by temptation.” Celine pops in my head and I lean against the counter. “I know the feeling.”

Celine doesn’t have much on her fridge, just a couple magnets with info for local food places.

A generic calendar she probably got free somewhere hangs on the side held up by a magnet that’s also a photo.

I trace her face in it and see the heartbreak that coincides with her fake smile.

An older man sits next to her with a lost look in his eyes, the resemblance between the two uncanny.

A circled date on the calendar catches my attention and I lean closer to see on tomorrow’s date she’s written Double date at Strike Lanes.

Double date? Oh fuck no.

“Midnight, how could you let this happen!” If my hair could catch fire like the color it resembles, it surely would with the rage I feel in this moment.

The cat, of course, ignores me curled up on the couch, not sharing the same disgust I do.

He gives me a long look and then proceeds to lick his paws.

My girl on a date with another man? Unthinkable.

I need to take this situation into my own hands. My timetable for showing Celine how perfect we are together just moved up.