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Pink is the New Pink

Standing in the bathroom, I cringed at the pink horror that I had become.

The velour sweatsuit fit perfectly, but holy hell it was pink, not just pink, it was really pink. I’m talking see it in the dark, a mile away while blindfolded pink.

And the socks, with their tinkling bells, yeah, those were the first to go.

Finding a pair of nail clippers in one of the drawers I pinched and clipped until my fingers ached, but every single one was gone.

Honestly, I was afraid that Aric would be mad at me, but there were some things I was willing to get punished for, and clipping dozens of little silver bells from my socks was one of them.

Throwing the evidence of my crime away I steeled my nerves before reaching for the door, doing my best to ignore the pink nightmare that looked back a me in the mirror.

Before my fingers could touch the handle, the door opened, Aric standing on the other side, a look of concern on his face.

“You were taking so long,” he said, looking her over from head to toe.

“I’m sorry,” I said, taking a step back. “It’s just so pink.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his face showing his sympathy. “Like I said, I’ll take you shopping tomorrow.

“Come on,” he said, motioning for me to follow him. “Dinner is here.”

Following him out I saw the table had been laid with several covered dishes. The smell’s coming from them made my stomach growl.

As I moved to sit, Aric caught me by the arm stopping me.

With dread I saw him look at my bell-free socks.

“Good choice,” he said, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, releasing me.

“I asked the kitchens to send a few dishes for you to try,” Aric said, holding his hand out towards the table. “Again, I didn’t know what you would like.”

“Thank you,” I said with a nod, wanting nothing more than to see what the smell was.

Sliding into one of the chairs I lifted the first lid and found a small beef pie topped with mashed potatoes. Needing to look no further, I picked up my fork and dug in, not carrying that it burned the roof of my mouth.

“So you like the Sheppard’s pie?” Aric asked, settling into the chair across from me.

“Uh-huh,” I mumble through a mouthful of beef, gravy and flaky crust.

“Well, finish up,” he said, looking at his watch, “the sun will be rising soon and I'm starting to get tired.”

“Didn't you say you wouldn't have to sleep like that again?” I asked, feeling a lump in my throat.

"I mean, you looked dead," I explained, seeing the look of confusion on his face.

“No,“Aric said, setting his cup down, “that only happens on the night of Saint Januarius. Yes, the sunrise makes us "

"Who is Saint Januarias?" I asked, finding myself actually interested.

"Legend says he was the first of us," he sighed, leaning back. "The first vampire."

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