Hunger: Vampire!CanadaXReader

You froze. You could hear some whimpering sound down the alley. Naturally, your parents always told you not to go dark alleys at night. For the most part you listened but those were whimpers of pain. Someone was hurt. You could run off and pretend that you didn't hear anything, like the Bystander Effect, otherwise known as Genovese Syndrome said you would from your psych class. It meant that if someone was in danger or in trouble you would leave them. Or you could go and help, like your morals screamed for you to do. Should you fight what your body had been programmed to do or should you put yourself at risk to help someone who might be faking it to hurt you? A particularly pained whimper sent you down the alley. You pulled a flashlight out of your purse, wondering if you wouldn't regret this as you slowly walked into the alley, hoping you weren't heading into a trap by a serial killer or a robber.

"H-Hello?" you stammered, "I-Is someone there? Are you okay?"

There was a particularly loud groan. You gasped as a man fell out from behind a dumpster. Your flashlight dropped from your hands as you reached forward to catch the person before they hit the ground. The force of their weight made you kneel down as you cushioned his fall. You stared in bewilderment as you stared at the man. He was blond, with beautiful waves in his hair and a strange curl that just seemed to stick out. His clothes were roughed up. Did he get into a bar fight? No, this man looked too gently to start a fight. Perhaps, he was caught in between a bar fight. That seemed more likely. You turned the man over so you could look at his face. Weakly his eyes fluttered open. Violet stared up at you. Your mouth went dry. This was Matthew Williams, from your English class at your college. But as he looked up at you with those pained eyes, you remembered why you had come down the alley in the first place.

"Are you okay?" you asked, "Do you need to go to a hospital?"

Matthew gripped the front of your shirt. The fabric twisted under his grip. You looked down at him worriedly. You were ready to do anything to help your crush. You couldn't just leave him in the streets when he obviously needed some help of some sort. Your cell phone was in your purse. If he could let go of you for a moment, you would be able to call for an ambulance and then he would be taken care of by professionals, not your shaky and uncertain hands. You didn't know what was hurting him. You didn't want to do anything to try to help and end up hurting him in the long run. That would probably kill you if it happened.

"N-No…" he whispered, "N-No h-hospitals…"

You grimaced. If he didn't want to go to a hospital, then what were you supposed to do with him? You might have decided to come to his help, but you didn't know what to do now. Should you call anyways? Did he just need help getting home? Was he high? Was he drunk? You just didn't know, seeing as you weren't a doctor or professionally trained to know the ailments of every illness. He looked thin, starved almost, as if he hadn't been eating at all. Did he suffer from an eating disorder? Is that why he looked so weak right now? It would explain a lot – his pale skin, his skinniness, his weak grip.

"Do you have a friend I can call?" you questioned.

The man shook his head. Well now what? You had gotten yourself into quite the pickle. You had a guy, from your English class, whom you had a crush on, but you had no idea who he hung out with, friends or family. He kept to himself for the most part. Now that you thought about it, you only had evening classes with Matthew. Most other people had early classes so they could have their evenings cleared, like Francis, who had been bragging to you about a date he had later. You had to take evening classes because you had work in the morning, otherwise you wouldn't be able to pay for college. It was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Since a lot of people were in school during the day, it meant that you didn't have to deal with the college rush at the restaurant you worked at. But Matthew's hand squeezing the front of your shirt made you focus on him.

"Where's your apartment?"

"O-Other side of t-town," he whispered.

You swore under your breath. Of course, your house had to be closer than his. You were slightly nervous about bringing a guy home. You never brought guys home unless you were really close to them, though you did really like Matthew. But with the way he was hurt you couldn't just leave him. This was also an extenuating circumstance. Now that you were involved your conscious wouldn't allow you to abandon him like that. So as you looked down at him, your conscious battled it out as to whether or not to take him home. But when he looked up at you, with tears in his eyes, your decision was made.

"Can you stand?"

-=-=-=-=-

You set Matthew down on your bed. He hadn't said much while they were heading to her house. You had practically half-carried him, half-dragged him to your house. He could stand but it seemed his legs were too weak to actually hold himself. He curled in on himself, still whimpering in pain. He had to ask you several times over if you would let him into the house until it reached the point to where you had shouted, 'Yes, I invite you into my house!' in sheer frustration. The lady walking across the street at the time gaping at you had given you another strange look. As if carrying Matthew like some hunter from the kill wasn't enough, you had to go and shout 'random' things.

"Let me help you," you begged of your classmate, "Tell me what's wrong."

"Hungry… so hungry…"

You blinked. That was his only problem? You thought he was dying. You had more than enough food to feed you and Matthew for that matter. You were a college student, but you worked hard for the money you did have. Plus, you knew how to buy, therefore, when it came down to it, you could spare some food for the poor boy. But something light, he looked like if he had anything heavy, he might get sick. You had tomato soup from your neighbor Antonio. He was a nice guy with an Italian boyfriend who often cursed you out but whom you also shared great conversations with on different tomatoes and Italian arts.

"What do you want?" you offered, "I'll give you anything…"

Matthew's eyes snapped open wide almost in horror or as if he was going to be sick. You really hoped not. You had just washed the bed sheets and the only alternative sheets you had were from your childhood that your mother had sent with you when you moved out with Disney's the Little Mermaid print on it. How embarrassing would it be to have your crush over and then have to change the sheets to Little Mermaid? You would want to crawl into a hole and die from the sheer embarrassment. He cringed away from you. Worried you leaned closer to Matthew. His hands went to your shirt and he tried to push you away but he was far too weak to do so.

"G-Get back," he ordered weakly.

Slowly you pulled away from him, wondering why he was trying to get you to leave him alone when he seriously needed help. You weren't about to let him starve himself to death, not while you were around. You considered looking for help clinics after he fell asleep so you could help him with a possible eating disorder. You couldn't believe that you were going to have to do that for him, but if he wasn't going to make the move to help himself, you would have to do it for him, even if it ruined your chances with him, and even if it made him hate you for the rest of your life.

"W-What's wrong?" you asked, "I'm just trying to help…"

"Leave me alone," Matthew whined.

"What's your problem?" you shouted now, "I'm trying to help you!"

He looked up at you, painfully baring his teeth to you in a grimace. It was then that you tensed. Matthew was dangerous. Now you knew why he wanted you so far away from him but you couldn't bring yourself to flee the room, however, you stepped back and stared at his mouth in surprise. Normally teeth weren't surprising to you but his teeth were different. How was it that you never noticed? They stood out predominately in his mouth. He had smiled at you – countless times, flashing pearly white teeth in shy and cute smiles. His canine teeth – they were so sharp almost like… Almost like…

"I'm a vampire," he said softly.

"N-No joking?" you questioned.

He shook his head. He wasn't playing around with you. It was why he wanted you as far away from him as possible, so he wouldn't hurt you. He loved you too much for that, not that you knew about his feelings, nor would he tell you. He liked working with you in his English class. You were making his Afterlife enjoyable. Granted, he knew all of the stories you read in class by heart. He had met Shakespeare personally, but he loved hearing your thoughts on those things, because they were always so new and different – outside of the box. In Romeo and Juliet, you blamed everyone for contributing to the deaths of the star-crossed lovers.

If the two families hadn't been feuding, Romeo and Juliet could have been together, but since they weren't then the families disapproved of the union. Because the union was disapproved of, Mercutio was killed by Tybalt. Because he was killed by Tybalt, Romeo attacked to seek revenge but was sent out of the city. Because Romeo was sent away, Juliet faked her death. Because she faked her death, Romeo thought she was dead and then killed himself. After waking and finding Romeo dead, Juliet then takes her own life. It was what you called the butterfly effect. The tine flit of wings from a single butterfly, created a hurricane on the opposite side of the world. Also known as the Domino effect, because one single domino fell which then caused a chain reaction.

"A-ah…" you muttered, "That… explains a lot… actually…"

"Please, ____________, go so I don't hurt you…" Matthew begged.

You grabbed his hand and he cringed again, probably because you were so close and he could practically smell your blood beneath your skin. You were probably making him uncomfortable, because you were the only living thing in the vicinity with plenty of blood in your system. His mouth was practically salivating at the idea of taking a taste for himself. Your scent was enough to drive him crazy. Your blood must have been even better, but he shook his head. He normally killed the people he drank from. He was never able to stop properly in order to spare the victims their lives, but sometimes with the people he attacked, he didn't want to, not when he knew they were killers or brutal arsonists or the like.

"But you're hungry!" you cried, "Can I give you some raw meat or something?"

He shook his head, probably doing his best not to cry from sheer despair or hunger, you weren't sure. But the tears in his eyes, you just had to do something. He looked so torn, so you would make the decision for him. You were going to have to reason with him. If you could provide logic, which couldn't be argued over, then he would have to let you do something for him. You couldn't just sit by while he was in pain and suffering! Only monsters could sit by and actually let someone else suffer. You watched as he tried to withdraw from you, pulling away and curling in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"What happens if you don't eat soon?" you asked softly.

"I… My body will st-start to shut down…"

So it was like a normal human's body when it went without food for however long it would take a human body to starve. Without blood, vampires would starve to death – again. You wondered if there was a book on it somewhere in your house. Your parents did read some strange things from time to time and when they were done, they brought them to your apartment to be rid of them from time to time. However, now was not time to question your father's choice in bathroom reading, you had to do something. Matthew could die if you didn't.

"T-Then… bite me…" you offered.

Matthew stared at you in shock. You exposed your neck to him, shaking slightly. You've never been bitten intentionally before. Plus, his fangs were sharp. He could tear right through the flesh, hut you if he wanted to, but you trusted him. Even if he did wind up killing you, you cared too much about him to let him starve himself to a second death. Matthew leaned forward, highly tempted by your offer for food, but then cringed away. He was curled up in the corner of your bed, pinned against the wall and the headboard. He was being so stubborn. You were just trying to help him and he was pushing you away.

"I don't want to hurt you…"

"Mattie… I trust you…" you said, "You can take some… I'm offering!"

You took his hand in yours. This time he had nowhere to go, nowhere to escape to. You guided his hand up to the back of your neck and then leaned forward with your neck exposed. You couldn't let him starve, not when he could die from it. Already dead or not, he was a friend of yours. You really liked him but guilt wracked Matthew's entire being. He knew the dangers of drinking from you. He could kill you if he drank too much from you. He was still fighting for control over the urge to drink until there was nothing left, and you weren't helping his decision either by offering yourself so willingly.

"I'm so sorry…"

Then he leaned forward to bite you. Sharp fangs sunk into your flesh. It stung and you hissed at the pain, but then a warm feeling washed over you. You felt like your body was made of jelly. Matthew eased you back against the covers on your bed, still attached to your neck, suckling on the bite mark he made and enjoying the taste of your blood. Your eyes fluttered shut as you began to feel light headed. Your hand made its way to Matthew's hair, tugging slightly. A sigh escaped your lips as you felt his tongue on your neck. It felt good, despite the fact he was sucking the precious crimson liquid from your body.

"M-Mattie," you breathed.

Reluctantly, his fangs came out of your skin. He lapped at the wound gently. His tongue tickled your skin, as did his silk soft hair. Once it stopped bleeding he got to his feet. He walked out of your room for a second. Foggy minded you tried to roll your head in the direction of the door but your body wouldn't work with your brain. Matthew came back with a roll of bandages. He sat you up, cradling you in his lap. Gently he began to wrap your wound, making sure to cover it completely. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and nuzzled his nose against your neck, against the bite mark. That mark on your neck made you his. No other vampire would ever be able to touch you.

Normally, he just attacked criminals he saw around on the streets to protect the civilians and to help ease his moral conscious. He hated killing but he had to live too, and if he had to kill, it was always best to kill people who hurt others so that they would never be able to hurt anyone ever again, but the police had begun to suspect a serial killer. He had been intending to go to the next town over and drink there for a while, but because of the fact there were vampire hunters there, he refused to go out. Then you found him in the streets as he tried to crawl his way back home. He had been hoping that he could get just a small bite of something, anything, even if it had to be a bird or a rat. Drinking from you had satisfied his thirst, but he had been able to stop. He hadn't killed you.

"Thank you, __________. You will never know how much this means to me…"

You leaned your head back gently so that it was resting on his shoulder. He looked down at you in surprise, but kept his arms firmly around your waist. Then you turned to face him but before he could say anything you kissed his cheek. His face was dusted pink now. You smiled gently and brought your hand up, touching his hair. You wondered what he did to his hair to make it so soft and perfect. You'd have to ask him in the morning, if you remembered that was. You were a bit out of it as of the moment. Your head was still a touch fuzzy, but you knew you would remember this tomorrow. It wasn't every day a vampire bit you.

"Love you, Mattie…" you whispered.

"I… Love you too…"

But you were already fast asleep in his arms.

-=-=-=-=-

The next morning you found your closet cleaned out. Everything had been neatly set on top of your desk. Also, a blanket had been tacked to the wall. You frowned, wondering why until you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. There were bloodstained bandages around your neck. You walked over to your closet, peaking in only just a little. You hear Matthew groan from inside. You cooed in delight. There he was curled up in the bottom of your closet with a few of your very old blankets, sleeping peacefully. He was cuddling a polar bear plush that your sister had given you for your birthday. You closed the door so the little light that the makeshift curtain couldn't stop wouldn't get him. You leaned against the door, eager for night to fall once more.

He was just too cute for his own good.