Vampires Will Never Hurt You

I had never heard of "Cucinare di padre", but I didn't feel much like going to McDonald's either. The resteraunt, which Gerard had given me directions to, was sketchy to say the least. The building was small and shabby, crammed between two larger buildings on an almost deserted street. As we got out of the car, I could hear Gerard give a low whistle of appreciation. I glanced over at him and he smiled at me, coming over to put his hand on the small of my back and steer my towards the door.
"Come on Sugar, looks can be decieving."
I tried to twist around and look at him. Was it just me, or had there been a double meaning to his words? He gently turned my head back to being forward as we crossed the threshold into Cucinare di padre. My mouth fell open almost the second I looked around. The carpet was plush and a nice looking crystal chandelier sparkled from the ceiling. The walls were painted a deep maroon and rich Italian music hummed softly in the background. It was unbelievable. I was tempted to turn around and run back outside to look at it's outer appearance again.
Gerard must have seen the look of shock on my face because the next thing I knew he was whispering in my ear.
"Nice, isn't it? I found it a couple of years ago..." He trailed off. I wanted to turn and look at his expression but I was light-headed from the way his nose tickled my ear. I noticed that his breath was a little cold when I felt it against me, and something ticked in the back of my mind. His breath had been cold on my lips the night we met. I decided that he must have a breath mint fetish. I was still in awe of our stunning surroundings when a hostess approached us. She was beautiful, with dark curls and all. I felt a stab of jealousy as I reached up to touch my own pale hair. I chanced a look at Gerard and was put at ease when I saw that he seemed not to notice the girl's attractiveness. In fact, he was staring at me again. I rolled my eyes at him as we made our way to our table.


"Order anything you want. I know the chef."
This earned him another eye roll as I flipped through the menu. I decided not to waste my energy asking him how a 17-year-old boy became buddies with the chef of a five star resteraunt. He was tweaking the edge of his napkin almost nervously as I set my menu down and looked at him.
"What are you getting?"
"I'm not hungry." He grinned. Oh, that grin. Even now that almost every other part of him has faded from me, I still remember that grin. It was a guilty, but impossible to blame grin. The boy had talent.
"What if I said I'm not hungry?" I raised my eyebrows at him and pushed the menu away from me.
"Then I'd say you're a liar." He pushed the menu back at me. I sighed in defeat and closed my eyes, pointing to the menu at random. When our waiter showed up I ordered some pasta. Gerard just nodded at the waiter. They appeared to know each other. Once the waiter left, Gerard turned his attention back to me. "What about you?"
"What about me?" I asked, taking a sip of my water.
"Your last name."
"Oh. It's DeLuna."
He smiled and stopped slaughtering the edge of his napkin. "French?" he asked. I nodded and took another sip. I hadn't realized how dry my mouth had been. We continued back and forth for some time, asking each other questions. I learned that he loved the color grey, historical wars, and his middle name was Arthur. I, in turn, told him about my love for canaries, cheesy films, and my hatred of my hair. This last statement seemed to be an issue with him.
"You have great hair. It's silver. I like silver."
I sighed. "It's blond, and impossible to work with."
"Oh come on," he snorted, "We could have some fun at Halloween."
"Halloween?" By this time my food had arrived. I ignored it in favor of hearing what he had to say.
"Yeah. You could be a ghost, you're so pale." He chuckled and I picked up my fork, stabbing at a my noodles with a scowl.
"And what would you be?" I mummbled, half-heartedly. I was suprised, of course, when he leaned across the table at me.
"Why, a vampire of course."
My fork clattered onto my plate.