Chapter 7
471words
Even Sebastian himself.
Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead in the club's VIP section.
I stared blankly at my champagne until it overflowed, spilling across the table.
"Earth to Isabelle." Lillian's voice snapped me back. "You're flooding the table. Is your dress okay?"
I blinked, finally noticing the puddle spreading across the table.
"It's fine." I set the bottle down and stood, checking my dress.
A server rushed over with towels.
Watching the cleanup, Lillian asked carefully, "What's with you lately? You're completely zoned out."
"My parents are forcing me to get rid of Sebastian."
The server finished and discreetly withdrew.
I collapsed back onto the sofa like a puppet with cut strings.
She studied my face. "Do you actually love him that much?"
I watched light patterns dance across the ceiling, lips pressed together in silence.
Silence meant consent.
Lillian sat down, choosing her words carefully.
"Isabelle, I know you don't want to hear this, but I have to say it."
"You can't take keeping a vampire seriously. They only need blood. You're just a food source to them."
"Newly turned vampires are insecure and sensitive. They see being kept as humiliation. They're obedient on the surface but hate you underneath."
"Ancient vampires are arrogant and cold-blooded. They treat you like a plaything, relying on their immortality."
"Either way, just play around. Don't fall in."
I listened to her ramble without responding.
Sebastian's origins were indeed humble.
He'd once been a poor student at Oxford, transformed by a vampire then abandoned.
Homeless, surviving by stealing from blood banks.
Until he met me.
But I'd never seen insecurity or sensitivity in him.
Others mistook his reserve for coldness.
But only I knew how gentle his nature truly was, how steadfast his emotions remained, how he never lost his composure.
He never spoke harshly, never gave anyone the cold shoulder.
We'd never even fought.
I only remembered one time he got slightly angry and returned to his flat on his own.
Said he wouldn't contact me for a week.
But within half a day, he'd sent a WhatsApp asking if I'd eaten.
I'd immediately replied with a question mark.
His response had come slowly: [I just wanted to check on you, is that a crime]
The memory made my lips curve involuntarily.
Misinterpreting my smile, Lillian offered me fresh champagne. "Exactly. Don't waste tears on a vampire. Not worth it."
Our glasses clinked as the DJ cranked up the bass.
Halfway through our drinks, Lillian waved over several male models.
Presented them like menu options.
The men—all chiseled cheekbones and semi-transparent shirts—stood at attention like soldiers awaiting inspection.
The alcohol was hitting me hard.
Looking at them, I realized how much I missed Sebastian.
I pulled out my phone and sent him a text.
