Bobby put his uniform on, checking himself out in the mirror. Normally he just thoughtlessly threw it on, but noticing how stunning BI had looked in it, he couldn't help wondering if he was doing something wrong. How could it look that good on BI and this plain and boring on him? He smiled to himself in the mirror, seeing if that would make a difference, but it just made it worse. BI would never notice someone like him, even though he was sitting right in front of him like yesterday. Would he even remember him or recognize that he was the one that so bravely sat down at his table?

Even so, he couldn't wait to go to school. He had decided to give it another go, he was going to sit at his table at lunch. Just thinking about it gave him butterflies. He wasn't quite sure if he was nervous because he was scared or because he couldn't stop thinking about those sad eyes of his. Maybe a little bit of both. He nodded to himself in the mirror, picked up his bag and ran out of the house, yelling his goodbyes as he passed his mom in the hallway.

The morning seemed to drag on forever. It was almost as if it was doing it on purpose, holding lunch time hostage in a fit of jealousy, blocking the passage of time. He tried to convince the morning that he liked it too, that there were special circumstances making him wanting it to make itself scarce, but it wouldn't listen. When the bell finally rang though, he suddenly wanted more time, just a little more time to mentally prepare. He joined the guys on their way out, but when they stopped at their lockers, Bobby couldn't wait any longer. He left them behind and rushed to the cafeteria.

As he walked through the doors of the food hall, his heart punched his ribcage so hard that it knocked the breath right out of him. His eyes went directly to the corner, finding their target and not letting it go for anything. There he was. Alone, beautiful, dangerous. Bobby's insides bundled up into a huge, throbbing knot. He took a deep breath and headed right over there, getting more than a handful of stares, whispers everywhere.

Resolutely, he sat down right in front of him, facing him head on, making it clear that he wasn't asking for permission. It was a free world, he could sit wherever he liked. The only reaction he got was a cold stare piercing through his skull. Awkward. He pulled his lunchbox out of his bag and planted it firmly on the table, but he didn't dare open it. So it just lay there on the table between them, unopened. If he was going to keep this up, he had to start eating a big breakfast, since he didn't figure he would have the courage to eat lunch in front of him any time soon.

“Did you know that a cat that falls from the 20^th floor of a building has a bigger chance of surviving than a cat that falls from the 17^th? Isn't that weird? Apparently it has something to do with the cat having time to realize what's happening and reacting accordingly.” he blurted out to fill the silence. He wondered if BI would survive a 20 story fall.

“Oh, and before alarm clocks, like way back when, people actually used candles instead. They'd push a nail into the candle at approximately the length that it would take the candle to burn through the night, then in the morning, when the candle had melted to the right point, the nail would fall and make a clanking noise as it hit the metal candle holder, hopefully waking whomever up that 'set' the candle to 'approximately morning'. Not the best era to be a heavy sleeper, I guess.” he explained with enthusiasm, chuckling dorkily. BI looked painfully uninterested. Hmm, maybe he was old enough to actually have used that technique himself. He would feel the same if some idiot kid in the future would sit him down and explain with fascination how toasters used to work, like it was some great mystery.

And so, pulling one useless fact after another out of his , lunch time passed all too fast. When the bell signaled that it was time to go, he cheerfully waved goodbye, receiving nothing in return. It could have gone worse, he thought, proud of himself for having made it through this ordeal in one piece. He counted his limbs and fingers just to make sure. Yup, they were all there.

The next day he was even more determined, starting to talk about whatever nonsense that came to mind the moment his bottom touched the chair, ignoring BI's forceful standoffishness. He wasn't sure what it was that made him keep coming back for more, when BI only seemed to resent his being there. But there was something pulling him in. And it killed him to see him looking so lonely, sitting all alone over here, segregated from the rest of humanity. It was better having him angry at him, than watching him deal with the loneliness alone. The lesser of two evils. He would just have to face his wrath and swallow the consequences. He could do that for him, he wanted to do that for him. He wanted to do so much more, but this was the best that he could do.

He was trying so hard to make him feel welcome, to counteract the wave of prejudice he was forced to swim through every morning, but he was pretty sure the only thing he was making him feel was annoyance. Although the intensity of his irritation did seem to be slowly fading with each passing day. Or perhaps Bobby was just growing immune to his fiery stares. Either way, visiting his table was getting easier and he was starting to treasure their time together, even though it was debatable whether it could be called spending time together when one of them didn't participate at all.

The first few times, he had been ambushed the moment he had exited the cantina by a crazy mob of curious students, bombarding him with questions, but he didn't really have any answers. It was not like BI was telling him anything. He didn't even bother to acknowledge his existence, finding it not even worth the effort to shoo him away, that was how insignificant he was to him. There was nothing he could tell them. And so, they stopped asking. And soon they too stopped acknowledging his existence. He went from being the daredevil that risked his life to confront the vampire, to being the vampire's weird sidekick, and as such, much like his master, was ignored and ostracized.

Thankfully, his friends were better than that, still sticking by him. But he wondered how long that would last. He was becoming less and less welcome on 'the human side' and it wasn't as if he had ever been welcome on 'the vampire side', so he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, when all he wanted was just for everyone to get along.

And so the days went by. But just when he had lost faith in the whole of human kind, Junhoe single-handedly restored it by showing up at their table out of the blue.

“Hey!” Junhoe's deep, raspy voice scratched the inside of Bobby's gut, giving him butterflies. The shock of his sudden presence knocked his voice right out of him, leaving him to mime what he wanted to say. Ah, why did he always turn into such a super dork when Junhoe was around. With clumsy gestures, he tried to indicate that he should sit down and join them.

Much to his surprise, Junhoe actually sat down like nothing was more natural, smiling his brightest at him. It caught him completely off guard, so much so that he lost control over a pair of giggles that rushed out of his mouth before he could catch them, making him look like an idiot. That in turn set off a chain reaction that turned his cheeks into two bright red traffic lights.

“Who gave you permission to sit down?!” a low, scary growl made its way across the table, spewing black shadows of fear in every direction. Both Junhoe and Bobby instantly straightened up, forcing themselves to face the hostile figure in front of them. Bobby thanked all that was holy that BI didn't have the power to kill with his stare alone, that was how intensely furious his glare was, his eyes no more than two slits, each holding a ball of pure fire.

“Uh...oh... eee... I...I'm sorry, I just thought since...” Junhoe stammered, terror coloring every syllable. He insecurely pointed at Bobby, his hand shaking, looking back at BI, his whole stance begging for mercy. When BI heartlessly refused to grant him asylum, his wrath making the air unfit for human consumption, Junhoe grabbed his backpack and ran out of there faster than a speeding bullet. Bobby sprang up, ready to follow right on his heels.

“Sit!” BI commanded with such force that without even meaning to, Bobby's body did what it was told. But strangely, he wasn't scared. The hatred had dissipated from the air and he realized he had stopped being afraid of him a long time ago. But more importantly, the fact that BI wanted him to sit down meant he actually wanted him there. So he did appreciate what he was trying to do for him after all. An arrow of warmth shot through his heart. He thought he was merely tolerating him, but it seemed he preferred his company over the excruciating loneliness that came with being different.

Then it hit him. The ball was in his court now. He couldn't let this opportunity slide, he had to take advantage of this sudden shift in power.

“On one condition...” Bobby stood back up.

“I'll sit if you answer one question.” he added, grinning triumphantly.

“What?!” BI spat out, his imitation of a solid rock being broken by an expression of pure surprise.

“Just one question.. I get to ask you one question and you have to answer.” Bobby crossed his arms, standing firm.

“What kind of a question?” BI peered his eyes.

“Which ever kind I want.” Bobby replied with sass, getting tipsy on too much power.

“Okay.” BI clenched his teeth, holding back the rage.

“Okay?!” Bobby exclaimed, stunned that it had actually worked. “Okay!” he repeated happily, sitting down even though he felt like he was flying. What should he ask? The possibilities were endless and there was so much that he wanted to know. He could ask him some of the questions the other kids had been asking him, taking the answers back to them, bridging the canyon that had opened between them with information. Questions like how many people he had killed, where the blood came from that he ate, whether he had ever tried making more vampires, whether he knew other vampires, how old he was, what powers he had, and the list went on and on.

“What's your favorite color?” Bobby finally asked.

“That's your question?” BI asked in disbelief, his voice uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable.

“Mhm.” Bobby gave him a resolute nod.

“Are you sure you want to waste your one and only question on that?” BI made sure. He looked confused and a little intrigued.

“Yup.”. Bobby didn't think it was a waste at all. He was curious. A person's favorite color could tell a lot about their personality, and besides, for some reason he just wanted to know.

BI pursed his lips into a pout, biting softly into his lower lip as he thought carefully about his answer. Those lips! Bobby had to work extra hard not to stare at them. They were so cute and alluring at the same time, he got the urge to reach over the table and kiss them. The thought caught him off guard. Was this just a weird, fleeting thought or was he really falling for him? His stomach churned. Maybe he had some kind of vampiric powers of seduction, making his prey feel overwhelmingly attracted to him, trapping them with his charm before he went in for the kill? A chill went down his spine. He shook all traces of this idea out of his head. It had just been a fleeting thought. It was nothing to worry about.

“Black and white.” BI announced, his lips contracting ever so slightly as if he was suppressing the urge to smile.

Huh. Interesting. Kind of like BI and him, Bobby thought, oddly satisfied.