Page 8 of Another Curvy Girl and Grumpy Vamp

He doesn’t move. Just stands there, towering over me with those silver eyes digging, I’m sure, for whatever information his detective missed. There’s an amused glint in them, and I know he’s enjoying this way more than he should be. Every other time I’ve seen him his face was carved in a snarling mask. I prefer it to the knowing smirk. “Mind if I sit?” he asks, though it’s clear he’s not really asking. He’s already pulling out the chair across from me.

I glance around the mostly empty café. There are at least five other tables he could have chosen. But no. He sits at mine. “Sure,” I say, giving myself a mental kick. Damn my good manners. Thanks, Mom and Dad.

He sits, folding his hands on the table like we’re about to have a civilized conversation. Which we are not. I have no intention of letting this turn into another disaster like the last time we were alone together. Still, I can’t help but be curious. What is he even doing here?

“Working late?” he asks, his gaze flicking to my laptop screen.

“Duh,”I resist saying and nod instead.Be polite, I hear my mom warning me. “Research. You know, just trying to change the world one thesis at a time.”

His lips twitch, as if he’s fighting a smile. Probably hasn’t given one in a century. “Sounds important.”

“It is,” I say, pointedly. “So, um…. gotta keep at it.” I add when he doesn’t take the hint and leave.

He tilts his head, studying me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m being sarcastic or sincere. The truth is, it’s a little bit of both. My research is important—at least to me—but right now, I’m also doing everything I can to keep my mind off the fact that I kissed this man in an elevator not too long ago.

And it was a damn good kiss.

“Do you ever take a break?”

I shrug. “Not really. Grad school isn’t exactly known for its work-life balance. But hey, I like what I do. It’s not all bad.”

“What are you working on, then?”

I hesitate for a moment. Most people’s eyes start to cross when I dive into my digital world of data, coding, and virtual simulations. But who knows maybe I can bore him away. I firmly stamp down the part of myself that doesn’t want to lose his interest. “It’s… um, tech stuff. Data science. I’m working on ways to analyze massive datasets, trying to find patterns and predictoutcomes. I’d love to find ways to teach LLM’s to reason and draw conclusions. If we can teach them to do more than just analyze the implications especially in medicine and research…” I stop at his blank stare.

“What’s an LLM?”

“Never mind. You wouldn’t be interested. Just suffice to say it’s technology that is changing the world.”

“Oh, that.Again.” Now it’s my turn to frown. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you’ve seen thousands of innovations that changed the world. Mostly for the better—but not always. You’d be surprised by how often humans build things that will ultimately destroy them.”

“And yet here we are…“

“Yes, resilient little things.”

“You say it like we’re cockroaches. But weren’t you human once?”

He’s silent a long time. I bite my lip to keep from apologizing. It’s not in me to be rude or to intentionally hurt someone. But his face tell me that maybe I have. He sighs. “Yes, but that was a very long time ago.” He changes the subject and I allow it. Pointing to my laptop he says, “But I’ll admit, there are things I haven’t kept up with.”

I blink, surprised. “Really? Like what?”

“ A lot. The pace of changes in this century are moving faster than they ever have. A lot of innovations, but some seem pointless. Online shopping. Apps. Video games—”

My brows shoot up. “Wait. You’ve never played a video game?”

“No. Why would I?”

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms with a grin. “I mean, it’s only one of the biggest industries in the world right now. But yeah, you’re probably better off without it. You’d get hooked.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that.”

“Oh, you would. Trust me. I’ve lost entire weekends to gaming. It’s addictive.”

There’s a moment of silence between us, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. He’s curious, but he’s also… weary. Like he’s lived too long to care about the little things that make life exciting for the rest of us. “You know,” I say, breaking the silence, “it’s not all bad, though. Human innovation, I mean. I get that you’ve been around for a long time and probably seen it all, but… things are different now. There’s so much potential. That’s what I love about technology. Just think of how many lives have been saved with something as simple and as complicated as an MRI.” His brows furrow. So I simplify, “Fancy x-ray machine…”

He nods and his eyes meet mine. They flash with something like… regret? Or maybe it’s just exhaustion. Either way, it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. “I used to feel that way,” he admits quietly. “But after centuries of watching it all rise and fall, it’s hard to hold on to that hope.”

I swallow, not sure how to respond. Part of me understands—he’s lived through more history than I can even imagine. But the other part of me—the part that’s still young and idealistic—wants to shake him and remind him that there’s still good in the world.

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