"Mr. Gray is malnourished," Seraphine stated, her voice calm but firm.
"What?!" I blurted out, far too loudly. Heads turned in the quiet clinic, including a girl sitting nearby with her head wrapped in gauze. Judging by the way she glared at me, I'd guess her broom had gotten the better of her in some unfortunate accident. I winced, lowering my voice as I leaned closer to Seraphine. "What do you mean? He looks fine! Healthy, even."
"For a human, yes," she replied smoothly, clicking her pen against the clipboard in her hand. "But Mr. Gray is not a human. He's a vampire. And he's severely lacking blood."
"That... that can't be right," I said, frowning as unease coiled in my chest. "I make sure he drinks blood! I've seen him do it myself."
Seraphine arched a brow, her gaze cutting through my denial like a blade. "Yes, but not enough. Vampires typically drain the blood of a normal adult two to three times a week—minimum. And Mr. Gray is not a typical vampire. He's much more... unique, as we've discussed. His body requires more to sustain itself, especially if he's using his abilities as often as you've told me. If you keep pushing him to train without giving him the blood he needs, you'll only succeed in killing him."
Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water. I felt my stomach drop. "Killing him?" I whispered, horrified. All the training Shira had been putting Sebastian through—was it harming him this much?
"Does he always sleep after these training sessions?" Seraphine asked, tilting her head.
I nodded. "Yeah, he does. We even cleared out a storage room for him to rest in afterward."
"Well, there's your answer," she said, tapping her pen against her clipboard. "He's malnourished. And if he's sleeping after every session, it's because he's burning through what little energy he has left. He's probably been pretending he isn't hungry this whole time."
"Pretending?" My voice came out as a squeak, my hands clasped together tightly. "He's been starving himself?"
"Most likely," Seraphine confirmed with a curt nod. "Frankly, I'm surprised he has the energy to move at all. If he were relying on rest alone, he'd need to fall into a coma for at least a month to replenish his strength. That's probably why he can't summon his wings. His body simply doesn't have the resources."
"This is bad," I muttered, my voice barely audible. Guilt twisted in my chest like a knife. Shira always went hard on Sebastian during training—I knew that. Hell, I'd even laughed about it a few times. But I never stopped it. I never asked how he felt. And now I knew. This whole time, he'd been pushing himself to the breaking point, and I'd been too blind to see it.
"It's not too late to fix this," Seraphine said, breaking through my thoughts. She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to me. "Here. I put together a diet plan for him last night. It includes exact measurements of how much blood he should consume—enough to sustain him without overwhelming him. Stick to it, and he'll recover. But only if you give him time to rest and stop pushing him so hard."
I unfolded the paper, scanning the precise instructions written in Seraphine's neat handwriting. "Thank you," I said quickly, standing up from my chair. "I need to talk to Sebastian."
"Good idea," she replied, already turning back to her notes.
I left the clinic, my heart pounding as I searched for him. My eyes darted around the courtyard until I finally spotted him slumped against the far wall. He was sitting on the ground with his knees pulled up to his chest, his head resting on them as he slept.
The sight made my chest ache. All this time, he'd been working himself to exhaustion just to keep up with us. All those hours he spent sleeping weren't because he was lazy—they were because he was starving and trying to claw back whatever scraps of energy he could. And I—idiot that I was—had called him lazy. Mocked him for it.
Silas, you absolute buffoon.
"Silas? You done?" Sebastian's voice startled me. He lifted his head, rubbing his eyes as he yawned and stood up. His movements were slow, almost lethargic, but he smiled at me like nothing was wrong.
I couldn't help myself. I crossed the distance between us in two steps and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He let out a startled noise, his body stiff in my arms.
"Wh-What are you doing?" he stammered, his voice tinged with confusion.
I didn't let go. I couldn't. My throat tightened, and I blinked back the sting of tears.
"I'm sorry, man. Turns out you've been malnourished this whole time!" I said, grabbing Sebastian's shoulder and giving him a light shove. I stared at his face, waiting for some kind of reaction. Instead, all I got was his blank, confused expression.
"Eh? Malnourished?" Sebastian repeated, his voice slow and uncertain, as if he couldn't quite process the word. I sighed and brought my hand to his cold cheek, my fingers brushing against his unsettlingly pallid skin.
"Yeah, malnourished," I insisted, frowning as I studied him closer. "I mean, Seraphine told me so, and, honestly, she's right. Look at you! You're so gray. No pun intended..." My voice wavered slightly as I whined, running my fingers over his cheek again and tilting his face toward the light. There was something lifeless about him today, something almost brittle. It made my chest ache.
Sebastian coughed awkwardly and grabbed my wrist, gently pushing it down. "Silas," he started quietly, his tone cautious, "I think you've got it wrong."
I shook my head firmly. "No way, man. Seraphine knows her stuff. She said you're malnourished for a vampire. And it makes sense! That's it—I'm getting you some blood today. No arguments." I gestured dramatically toward him. "Look at you! You're practically translucent."
Sebastian's lips twitched, but he quickly masked the expression, his eyes darting to the paper I'd pulled out of my pocket. His gaze lingered on the list I'd scrawled down—quantities, types, and everything he'd need to replenish his energy. "I don't need that much blood," he muttered, almost embarrassed.
"Why not?" I shot back, crossing my arms. "Drinking blood doesn't make you less than you are. It keeps you alive. Besides, the blood's from legal sources, so you don't even have an excuse. That's it. We're going home. I'm getting you those blood pops for now, and I'll ask Shira to bring some real blood later."
Before he could protest, I grabbed his wrist and yanked him down the hallway. "What? Wait—" Sebastian stammered, stumbling after me, clearly too bewildered to resist.
By the time we got home, Sebastian still looked as blank as ever, while I, on the other hand, was on the verge of tears. The realization that I'd let this happen struck me like a freight train. I'd promised to look after him, to be there for him, and yet, here he was—gray, cold, and weak. How could I have been so careless? What kind of friend was I?
"You're overreacting," Sebastian said finally, breaking the silence. He leaned against the kitchen counter, his tone calm, almost dismissive. "I don't feel particularly hungry. I'm not starving to death, Silas. I just—"
Before he could finish, I shoved a blood lollipop into his mouth, effectively cutting him off. "Mppf?!" he grunted, his eyes wide, as though he couldn't believe what I'd just done.
"That's it!" I declared, my voice rising. "Sebastian, you're letting me off way too easily. I swore I'd take care of you, and now look at you! I'm the worst friend ever! How could I let this happen? How did I even get my license to—"
"Silas," he interrupted, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a sigh. "Relax." His voice was patient, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I'm not malnourished. Maybe I do need more blood than I'm getting right now, sure. But I don't need it the way you're making it sound. I'm fine. Really."
"That's the point!" I shot back, my voice cracking slightly. "You're denying what your body needs. This isn't something you can just ignore, Sebastian. You're a vampire—your body needs blood to function. It's not something you can just… shrug off."
For a moment, there was silence between us. I stared at him, my chest tight with emotion, while he studied me with an unreadable expression. Then, suddenly, he snorted.
I blinked. "What?" I asked, my frustration momentarily replaced by confusion.
Sebastian tried to compose himself, but his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. "Sorry, it's just—you look really funny when you're about to cry."
"Do I look ugly or something?" I shot back, affronted, my tears all but forgotten as I glared at him.
"No," he said quickly, his voice softening. "It's actually… the opposite." His eyes darted away, and for the first time, I noticed the faintest hint of color creeping into his cheeks.
I let out a bewildered "huh?" My mind raced, trying to decipher his cryptic words. What could he possibly mean?
Just as I opened my mouth to ask, the front door swung open, and Shira stepped in with an air of urgency. "I got the blood you need," she announced, her voice cutting through the tension.
Sebastian sighed, his shoulders dropping in relief. "Thanks," he murmured, though the weight of something unspoken lingered in the air.
Shira's gaze darted to my eyes, still tinged red from earlier. "Were you crying?" she asked, a hint of concern etched on her brow.
"No,"
***
It wasn't difficult to coax Sebastian into drinking more blood than he was accustomed to. Slowly, I watched as the pallor of his skin transformed, a healthy flush creeping into his cheeks. The change was striking—he looked vibrant, almost alive.
"Do you feel any different?" I asked, curiosity piquing as I leaned closer.
Sebastian licked his lips, a faint smile tugging at the corners. "I feel full, like I could curl up and take a nap again," he said, his tone teasing yet oddly sincere.
Jeez! Was he part cat?
Despite his playful words, there was an undeniable energy radiating from him. It dawned on me just how lifeless he had appeared before, a mere shadow of himself, starved of vitality. Now, his face glowed with health, and an inexplicable warmth filled my chest at the sight.
Unable to suppress the urge any longer, I reached out and gently brushed my fingers against his cheek. The moment my skin made contact, he let out a soft, surprised sound. "Silas?" he murmured, confusion flickering in his eyes.
Was it just me, or was there an unusual sparkle in Sebastian today? I felt dazed, as if I were caught in a dream.
I leaned in closer, my breath hitching as Sebastian's hands found my hips, anchoring me in place. "Silas, wh—what are you doing?" His voice trembled, uncertainty threading through his words.
What was I doing, exactly? Thoughts swirled like leaves caught in a gust of wind, my mind clouded. All I could focus on was the intoxicating scent emanating from him—like the roses my mother had planted outside my childhood window.
"Seb, you smell really nice. I don't know why…" I mumbled, lost in the moment as I placed my hands on his shoulders.
Suddenly, a firm tug on the back of my shirt yanked me away from him, snapping me back to reality.
"Sebastian! Control your abilities! You just charmed Silas!" Shira's voice rang out, sharp with urgency.
I shook my head, the lingering haze dissipating, my thoughts rushing back into clarity. "Did you just charm me?!" I exclaimed, a mix of shock and confusion surging through me as I turned to Sebastian, who looked utterly mortified.
"I didn't—I didn't know it was like that…" he stammered, a hand pressed against his chest, his face pale as if he might be sick.
"Si-Silas… I didn't mean to…" His eyes searched mine, filled with a mix of regret and fear.
"Hey, it's alright," I reassured, prying Shira's hands from my shirt. "That was surprising, sure, but I didn't even have time to prepare a defense!" I tried to infuse my voice with calmness, but my heart raced.
"Sebastian, you just used your ability on Silas to get your way, didn't you?" Shira accused, her tone sharp. I shot her a glare, frustration bubbling within me. How could she think that? Sebastian would never manipulate me like that!
"Shira, I swear—" I began, placing a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "Listen, that was pretty cool. I get it; you're still adjusting to being high off blood. Just relax. It's okay."
Sebastian stared at me, his expression darkening as he glanced at Shira, who merely clicked her tongue in disapproval.
Great! As if he needed more pressure. Can't she see he's on the verge of a panic attack?
"Sorry," he said, his voice shaky. "I couldn't stop myself." He buried his face in his hands, and I noticed the flush creeping up his ears, the tremor in his hands betraying his embarrassment.
"Can you give us a moment?" I turned to Shira, my tone more pleading than commanding.
"No, I won't," she replied firmly, crossing her arms.
With a sigh, I silently cast a mental defense spell, a protective barrier against any further accidental charms.
"Silas, Shira, I'm so sorry. I—maybe I should just go home," Sebastian said, rising unsteadily to his feet, his voice tinged with despair.
"Hey, it's not your fault," I said quickly. "You just need to learn to control your powers. It's like when I was a kid—I accidentally set fire to our curtains while practicing magic."
"That's different," Shira interjected, a sigh escaping her lips as I shot her another glare.
Sebastian kept his gaze lowered, unwilling to meet my eyes.
"I'm going home," he declared, the finality in his voice echoing as he turned toward the front door. I called out to him, my feet rushing after him as I watched him step through the gate, closing it behind him.
For a fleeting moment, our eyes locked. I saw shame and guilt flicker in his gaze as he walked away, his footsteps heavy.
"Seb…" I murmured, caught in a dilemma—should I chase after him or let him be?
He seemed to need solitude, and even if I dared to approach him, I wasn't sure I'd have the right words. Comforting others was never my strong suit.
"Silas, are you sure he didn't do anything to you?" Shira asked, lounging on the couch with her arm draped over the backrest, scrutinizing me.
"You were rude. I thought you'd warmed up to him by now. He clearly didn't mean to upset you. Why did you make it sound like he wanted to hurt me?" I replied, my voice rising.
Shira huffed, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Because he has his own agenda," she muttered, a comment meant to slip under my radar but that I caught nonetheless.
"What agenda? Huh? Tell me," I pressed, crossing my arms defiantly.
"You don't need to know," she replied, averting her gaze.
I bit my lip, stifling the urge to lash out at her for being so secretive and judgmental about someone like Sebastian.
"I'm going to bed. Enjoy your dinner alone," I said, turning away.
Shira remained silent.