
Usual disclaimers apply.
FEVERED
“Hello, Mick. Mick, are you there? Say something.”
“Josef, I...I...god, I...”
“Mick. Stop. Deep breath. Start over.”
“I bit her, Josef. I fed from her.”
“I’m sorry...can you repeat that? I could have sworn you just told me you fed fresh.”
“You heard right. God, she should have walked away, she should have let me die--”
“Mick, who on earth are you talking about?”
“Beth.”
“Beth? As in ‘Beth Turner, the reporter who knows about vampires’ Beth?”
“Yeah. Stop sighing, Josef. It’s not like she left me a choice. I was ready to die out there in that desert, but she wouldn’t let me.”
“Well, while I can’t condone your choice of freshie, I’m happy you’re still among the living, so to speak.”
“She’s not a damn freshie, Josef. It’s not gonna happen again.”
“Such a pity. So tell me...does she taste as good as she smells? Because--”
“Josef!!”
“Alright, alright...you’re so touchy when it comes to that girl. So what are you going to do?”
“I have to let her go, Josef. My world’s too dangerous for her. I was dying out there - I could have drained her dry without thinking twice. Being around me is going to get her killed - I can’t live with that. I can’t--”
“So why’d you stop?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Why did you stop? ”
“She told me to.”
“And there you have it, Mick.”
“You’re not helping here, Josef.”
“Oh...I think I am. Goodnight, Mick.”