“I need you to stop biting me each time you get the chance.” Winter abruptly storms into the vampire's gloomy and unsurprisingly ominous office like a raging hurricane. “I swear to god, you're worse than a cat sometimes!” 

Karina pauses her crocheting, and raises an eyebrow curiously as she looks at Winter. “But you told me it was okay,” 

Okay. Maybe she did tell her that it was fine, and maybe she foolishly aimed the gun at herself on that one (is that even the right idiom? Whatever. In her defense, she's a very terrible marksman. Metaphorically speaking), but Winter still has a very valid reason to feel frustrated when Karina just goes overboard with everything else they agreed on, because apparently, what ‘fine, maybe you can bite me sometimes' means for her actually translates to ‘fine, you definitely can bite me all the time, and by all the time, I meant 24/7 365' and that's exactly what Karina has been doing lately. 

She bites and bites and bites, and guess what else? That's right. She bites.

“That was when you knew the importance of personal space.” Winter walks over to Karina's desk and gently rests her hands on the hard surface, her gaze fixed on the vampire in front of her. “And you know how much I love my personal space, right?”

“I love your personal space too.” Karina retorts, smiling up at Winter innocently.

“I know, baby. I can see that—obviously.” Winter chuckles dryly, her eyes pleading with Karina to just please understand what she's talking about. “But I promise, you can still love my personal space without chewing my entire shoulder off,”

“I don't chew your shoulders off. I nibble them.” Karina tells Winter.

With a click of her tongue, Winter almost slams her forehead against the vampire's desk, but that's not very wise, is it?

“Oh, yeah. Because that sounds way better.”

“It does.” 

If there were another person listening to this conversation right now with or without context, they would be petrified. 

“Babe, I'm serious. We need to set some boundaries.” Winter finally gets to the point.

“Alright. Boundaries set.” Karina sets her crochet hook and yarn on the desk before turning her gaze towards Winter as if they're finally on the same page. Hopefully.

Taken aback, Winter stares at her girlfriend suspiciously. “Really? That easy?”

“Yes.” Karina nods with a smile on her face, and Winter doesn't know if she should be scared or not. “I promise, no biting or chewing from now on.”

But on the bright side, she finally got what she needed to hear from her y vampire. That's what's more important for her right now, and if Karina plans to kill her tonight in her sleep, then so be it. At least she'll die bite-free (probably).

“Thank you.” Winter plants a gentle kiss on Karina's temple before leaving the office.

As the days went by, Winter was relieved to see that Karina had actually followed through on her ‘promise'. She no longer sinks her teeth into Winter whenever the opportunity presents itself on her face (literally), and although Winter can still catch glimpses of Karina really struggling to resist the urge to bite, things have been going smoothly overall. 

There was this one time when they were watching a movie together with Winter nestled between Karina's legs, as always, the human's back was resting against the vampire's front, when suddenly, this humongous bucket of ten thousand kilograms of cuteness aggression poured itself on Karina who had only been hanging on by a thread. Long story short, Karina proved herself to be true to her word. So instead of breaking her promise to Winter, she ended up biting her own fist to contain everything inside, and when Winter turned to face her and asked what was wrong, Karina simply shook her head and told her that the movie just really scared her.

They were watching Kung Fu Panda.

So, yes. Things really have been going smoothly—all things considered.

Until Karina suddenly picks up a new hobby that turns out to be not as bad as the obsessive biting, but definitely much weirder.

She's been sniffing Winter.

More specifically, Winter's neck.

“Babe.”

“Yes?”

“Can you stop inhaling my neck for one second, and listen to what I've been trying to tell you?” 

They're in the kitchen (which has been recently painted burgundy). Winter is busy vacuuming the floor, while Karina is sticking to her like a baby koala, with her nose attached to Winter's neck, making it difficult for the human to even move an inch.

“I'm not inhaling your neck.”

“Yeah? Then where is your nose glued to right now?” Winter cranes her neck slightly, her left cheek unintentionally pressing against Karina's right one.

The vampire reluctantly pulls away for the first time in what feels like a decade, “Your sternocleidomastoid.”

“Karina.”