Page 32 of My Big Fat Vampire Wedding

V ictor lived just a few streets away from UCL.

Lucy’s flat was in the opposite direction, so she and Pandora parted ways at the shop.

Pandora walked the rest of the way alone, the cool wind kicking her hair up, and she tried not to fret over the tangles it had likely twisted itself into as she made it to the block of rooms that Victor shared with a few mates.

“Sounds worse than it is,” he said as he met her outside the grey-brick building.

“Mike has a girlfriend, so he’s over her place more often than not.

Grant works two jobs on top of uni. Tate doesn’t go to uni and he currently sleeps on the couch in the living room.

But since Mike, Grant, and I all have our own rooms, it doesn’t bother us much. ”

“I have, like, a dozen people at my house right now, so I can’t speak,” Pandora said with a shrug.

“Ignore Tate if he says anything dense,” Victor said as he led Pandora up toward his door. “He can be a bit of a git. But he gets all the leftover food at the restaurant he works at, which means we basically don’t spend anything on food, so we put up with his crap.”

With that, Victor led Pandora into his living room. A.k.a. Tate’s bedroom. It wasn’t a large space and it was dominated by a blue couch covered in pillows, a sheet, and a duvet. As well as its occupant, Tate.

He was average height and build, with wavy, messy blond hair that had an indentation from his headphones.

He was sitting on the edge of the sofa in boxers, a rumpled white tee, and socks with holes in both big toes. A bowl of sugary cereal was in his hands as he watched the rugby game on the telly.

“Tate, Pandora. Pandora, Tate,” Victor said as he closed and locked the door.

“Right. The fiancée we never heard about until, like, two weeks ago.”

“Didn’t want to scare her off by letting her meet you,” Victor said, eyes dancing as his hand went to Pandora’s lower back, guiding her toward the hall.

“I’ll put my headphones on. Won’t hear a thing.”

If Pandora could blush, she would be crimson right then. Victor simply ignored him, though, as he led her to the last room in the hallway, right past the center bathroom that was remarkably clean, considering how many guys lived there.

“This is me,” Victor said, opening the door to his bedroom and stepping inside.

It was a small space dominated by an extra-long twin-sized bed and the antique writing desk butted up under the window, which served not only as the work station but also the nightstand.

Instead of a headboard, there was a row of shelves overflowing with dozens of books. Across from the bed itself, there was a telly mounted on the wall beside the wardrobe.

Otherwise, the space was neat. His backpack was hung on the door. His desk was organized. His bed was made.

Clearly, he was on a limited income but he was making the best of it.

Though, in her opinion, the whole space would feel a lot more alive and cozier if he had some hanging plants in front of the window.

“Is everything all right?” Victor asked once they were behind a closed door.

“What? Oh, yeah, fine. I just wanted to pop by. I, um, have something to give you,” Pandora said, suddenly kicking herself for not concocting a convincing story on her way to his flat.

“To give me?” he asked, pulling the chair out from his desk and turning it to sit.

“Yeah, it’s … it’s kind of a family heirloom,” she told him, proud of her quick thinking. “I was hoping you could start wearing it. You know, like, daily? That way, if we happen to see my family, they will see it. And it might …”

“Help sell how serious this is,” he said, making Pandora’s shoulders relax slightly.

“Yes, exactly.”

“What is it? Some kind of jewelry?”

“Yeah, it’s a pendant,” she said, reaching in her purse to produce the chain. “It’s not too crazy. You know, given my family’s sort of eccentric taste.” She let the pendant fall into view.

“Yeah, that’s not bad at all,” he said, reaching for it.

“Here,” she said, snatching it back. “I’ll put it on for you.

” She wedged herself into the small space behind the chair, then opened the chain to slide it on for him.

“There.” She caught herself starting to rest her hand on his shoulder, then pulled away.

“Just make sure you always have it on, OK?” she asked as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Victor looked puzzled at that but he nodded. “OK. I don’t have to worry about damaging it?”

“No. It’s pretty well-crafted,” she said.

The silence stretched long enough to get uncomfortable. “How have things been at home?” he asked. “I still can’t believe I got so drunk so fast,” he added, looking embarrassed.

“My family’s wine can be kind of potent,” Pandora said, feeling guilty about his embarrassment.

And the fact that her cousin had taken advantage of his mind.

“No one noticed.” Since, by the time he’d got back to the table, he’d been pretty much back to normal.

“We’ll just water it down next time or something. ”

“Yeah, I …” A litany of curses came crashing through the walls from the living room. “Sounds like he switched from rugby to video games,” he said. “Want to go for a walk? Get some air?”

Pandora knew her mind was going to go into an in-appropriate place if they stayed in his room. With a bed in it. That she would love more than anything to pull him down on, claim his lips with hers, feel his hands sliding down her …

“Yes,” she said, popping up at the same time that Victor did, making both of them collide in the tiny space, his whole front brushing against hers.

The electricity sizzled across Pandora’s skin as her head tipped up, seeking him, wanting to know if he was as impacted as she was.

But Victor stepped back before she could read his expression, turning his back to her, and made his way to the door.

Having no choice but to shelve her own desire, she followed him out to the living room where Tate was trash-talking someone he was playing in his game.

“That was quick,” Tate said, making Pandora’s eyes go round. “Gotta work on your game, man,” he added, getting a growling sound out of Victor.

But Victor didn’t engage, just grabbed his coat, then pulled open the door and waited for Pandora to step into the hall.

They walked in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Until Pandora found herself turning automatically down the street that would lead to her bookshop.

“Toy museum?” Victor asked when she stopped out front as she always did, reality slipping away, her imagin-ation taking the reins.

Her mind chased away the cobwebs, refreshed the paint, filled the space with colour, plants, little suncatchers in the windows to refract the light and create little rainbows through the store.

She could practically hear the giggles of children in their section, could see the teen girls gushing over the latest hot fae king, could feel the excitement of someone who’d never liked reading finding the book that sucked them in for the first time.

She’d always seen it in her head as a place where everyone was welcome.

Humans, vampires, werewolves. Maybe she could ask that witch shopkeeper lady to create some sort of talisman or spell to make the place a sanctuary for all creatures, a place where they could put down their prejudices and bond over their shared love of stories.

“Pandy?”

The fantasy had pulled her in as it always did. She was smelling fresh paper, and hearing the coffee-house music, and feeling the leather spines of a book.

“Sorry, Victor,” she said, shaking her head.

“Where’d you go?”

“Hopefully, into my future,” Pandora told him.

“What do you mean?”

“This place has been vacant for ages. And for just about as long, I have been dreaming of buying it and turning it into my own bookshop.”

“That’s why the inheritance is so important to you.”

“Yeah.” Her gaze slid over to Victor’s reflection in the glass. “It’s really not about just … having money. To buy posh clothes or get a fancy flat. It’s about making this dream come true.”

“Tell me about the dream.”

Then he stood there with her, his shoulder brushing hers, as she talked about the colours, the plants, the books, the merchandise, the vibes she wanted the place to have.

“And coffee,” Victor said when she was done. “There has to be coffee.”

Pandora nodded. “And tea.”

“And cozy chairs,” he said.

They went on like that for a while, each coming up with items that the perfect bookshop would have, since they both loved books and the places that sold them.

And it was the first time she ever felt like someone else was sharing in her dream.

Sure, Lucy knew about it and they would sometimes discuss the obscure, but best, books that had to be on the shelves. But it was the first time someone was seeing it with her, improving it, getting excited about it.

“Just over two months,” Victor said.

“Hm?”

“Just over two months until you can make an offer on this place,” he said, gesturing at the building. As she looked over, the tree overhead shook in the breeze, sending some orange leaves cascading around him, one landing on his shoulder. She reached out, brushing it away.

“It really is that soon,” Pandora said, giving him a small smile as she forced her hand to lower, not slide down his arm, maybe take his hand …

“Just about ten thousand things to arrange before then,” he said, wide-eyed.

“Don’t remind me. My mum and aunts really dug their claws into the reception and flowers and … everything else. My head spins just thinking about it.”

“It’s good you have the help, though. They’ve all done it before.”

Some many times.

The issue was that they’d done it hundreds of years ago. When trends and customs were wildly different.

But she couldn’t tell him that.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “It’ll all work out.”

If there weren’t any more nasty surprises to worry about.