My Vampire Roomate

Shadows on the hill

Those first few days with Sebastian felt like a fairy tale. I was a princess, swept up in his smooth charm and quiet intensity. He’d handled everything—my bags, my nerves—making me feel like the world spun around me. But every paradise has its cracks. Sebastian was a locked vault, his past a mystery he guarded with steel. And then there was the basement—always bolted shut, off-limits. “Just old junk,” he’d said, brushing it off with a shrug that didn’t quite land. I didn’t buy it, but I shoved the unease down, determined to focus on the now.

I was living with Crescent University’s most coveted bachelor, and with classes starting today, I had a plan. We shared a schedule—perfect excuse to ride in his Bentley Flying Spur. It wasn’t just about getting to school; it was a ticket to campus royalty. Fresh from a shower, I slipped into a black dress that hugged every curve, tied my hair up, and added a touch of makeup. I stepped into the kitchen, eyes tracing the gothic decor—antique vibes so far from the usual student squalor. Sebastian had taste, dark and brooding, like him.

I was pouring tea when his voice cut through the silence. “Hey Emma, you’re up.” It was a whisper from the shadows, jolting me. I turned, and there he was—fresh from the shower, towel slung low, abs carved like a statue’s, every line a testament to some unforgiving sculptor’s hand.

“Yeah, can’t miss the first day. Sets the tone,” I said, steadying my voice over the chaos inside, finishing my pour. “Want some?”

He nodded, his hazel eyes pinning me like a specimen under glass.

“I’ll be leaving this weekend,” he dropped casually as we sat at the dining table, his earlier trip talk now a curveball I hadn’t braced for.

“Really? Classes just started. Must be big,” I pressed, my inner sleuth itching to dig deeper.

“Family event. Have to be there,” he replied, voice flat, a wall slamming shut on any glimpse of his rich, shadowy roots.

His gaze locked onto mine, piercing straight through me. “I’d like to show you a spot after school,” he said, his tone hinting at more than a stroll.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, my mind spinning—date? Kiss? “Okay,” I whispered, barely audible.

“But we should get going,” I added, snapping back to the moment, school looming.

He vanished into his room, reemerging like a noir heartthrob—dark jeans, leather jacket, all danger and allure. He held the door, and we stepped into the crisp morning. His Bentley roared to life, chrome and leather enveloping me in a luxury I’d never tasted, a glimpse of the world he kept veiled.

Driving off, I felt the edge creeping closer with every mile, and I wasn’t complaining—I craved it.

School hit me with stares—envy, curiosity, scorn. I stepped out of the Bentley, playing it cool, but a volleyball came flying, malice behind it from some jealous girls. Sebastian, mid-call, snagged it one-handed and flicked it back, voice calm. “You’ve got to be more careful.” He mentioned Franklin and Rose were waiting inside. I hadn’t faced Rose since her Ponzi mess—I’d felt betrayed, but maybe I was past it.

We walked in, blind to the man in black lurking nearby. That same volleyball sailed his way. He caught it, crushed it flat with one grip, and let it fall, eyes fixed on us.

“Emma, don’t tell me you’re still sore,” Rose said, her voice soft, almost pleading. “I lost my money too. And I got Franklin to hook you up—you can’t say I didn’t try.”

She had a point. Sebastian was her doing, via Franklin. “It’s fine,” I said, keeping it neutral. “I’ve got a place now. We both wanted Drake so bad we lost our heads.” Franklin and Sebastian had already split for class, leaving us in the hallway.

“So,” Rose grinned, sly now, “anything with Sebastian yet?” There’d been sparks—brushes of hands, charged glances but nothing solid. I liked him, and I swore he felt it too.

“Nothing major,” I confessed, “but he’s taking me somewhere after school.” Excitement flickered across my face, though I hadn’t dared dream too far. “How romantic,” Rose teased as we headed to class.

The bell rang, freedom calling, but all I could think of was him. Nerves frayed, anticipation buzzing, I checked my phone like a junkie. Nothing.

“What if he forgot?” Rose sighed, restless. “I’ll call Franklin, he’s probably with him.” Before she could, my phone buzzed. Sebastian.

“Look at your window.”

I turned. There he was, leaning against the wall outside, smirk sharp enough to cut. I waved, awkward, then walked to him, heart thumping.

Rose and Franklin were gone. He opened the car door, and I slid in, leather cool against my skin. He started the engine, and we peeled out. Silence hung heavy—his eyes on the road, mine on my phone, typing gibberish to dodge the tension.

“You hungry?” His voice sliced through, sharp and sudden.

I nodded. We hit a fast-food joint—grilled wings dripping with sauce, greasy chips, icy sodas. Back on the road, we aimed for a hill past the “Welcome to Elmwood” sign, city lights fading behind us.

I wasn’t used to this distance from home, but the thrill was electric, risky. We parked, and he led me to the hill, its shadow swallowing the light. “Don’t tell me we’re climbing that,” I said, eyeing the steep rise. Gym class had nearly killed me.

He chuckled, soft, then turned, offering his back. “I’ll carry you. Don’t worry.”

Was he joking? The hill towered, but the reckless romance of it pulled me in. I climbed on, heart racing, doubting every step.

His strength was unreal—muscles flexing under my grip, his scent raw and heady. I clung tight, intoxicated, not wanting it to end. At the top, I slid off, feet hitting dirt, and the view stole my breath.

Elmwood glittered below, a living tapestry I’d never seen like this—cars weaving, lights pulsing, a city that never quit. He dropped to the grass, patting the spot beside him. I sat, still lost in the sight.

“We used to come here, me and my brother,” he said, voice low, eyes on the sprawl. “This was our spot.” Family talk was new, unguarded. I leaned in, every nerve taut.

“You have a brother?”

“Had,” he corrected, face shadowing. “Kid brother. Cancer took him at twelve.” He grabbed a stone, flung it down the hill, pain etched deep. I touched his back, hesitant.

“Life’s a cruel bastard,” I said, tossing my own rock, a weak echo of his hurt.

“He found this place,” he continued, pride seeping in. “Parents were fighting, and he ran. Took me hours to find him—some couple saw a boy climbing. He was here, just sitting, staring. Said he’d been coming for months to think.”

We talked for hours, words spilling free. I shared my brothers, my cold mother. He smirked, calling her blind to the angel she’d raised, and my cheeks burned. Our fingers brushed, lingered, the air alive with tension. His eyes met mine, fierce, admiring—my stomach flipped. I looked away, cursing myself, exhaling hard. “Your brother would be proud,” I said, dodging the pull.

“I just wish he was here,” he murmured, gaze drifting down. Then he turned, hand lifting my chin, tender, electric. His lips neared, breath warm—the kiss I’d craved all day.

“Be careful what you wish for, big brother.”

A voice—cold, jagged—slashed through. I froze, dread choking me. Sebastian shot up, yanking me behind him, facing the figure in the dark.