"I know you too well,

I know too much for my own good –

I know you too well,

That's why we ran while we still could.

I know you too well,

Well – what a pleasure it has been.

I know you too well,

Well – what an awful mess I'm in…"

Noah Puckerman had always hunted vampires.

He started from the time he was very small – age four? Five? He's not totally sure – before his father lost his mind, trying to rid the world of their presence. They drove his father mad, with their horrifying cat-like eyes and ghostly-white skin, their teeth like daggers and nails like claws. But Puck swore that would never be him – no, he'd get his education out of the way, and then he'd get his vengeance…he'd be the greatest, most feared vampire hunter who ever lived – or he'd die trying to be.

Then one day, there she was – right out in the open. Huh, Puck thought. Was she stupid or something? Vampires hardly ever came out in the daytime – they were pretty obvious to spot during the day, especially out in the open like she was. Huh, Puck thought. Was she lost? Was she hurt? She didn't look it, with her long, auburn-colored hair, snow-kissed skin, and unspeakably beautiful, kaleidoscope eyes. He could see now, looking into those eyes, why and how his father went mad – those eyes would drive Puck mad, too. It was on his way to school he saw her – she cut through the trees close to his yard, which led him to hear the rustling of the branches, and there she was, perched on a tree branch, looking right into his all-too-mortal eyes. So, so mortal he was, compared to her.

Now, this was his chance, he figured. His chance to avenge his father. His chance to kill the beast that his father went mad trying to exterminate. His chance to start to become the greatest, most feared vampire hunter who ever lived…

"Are you alright?" He asked her.

She didn't answer.

"Can you speak?" He asked again.

She could not.

"Are you injured?"

She said nothing in reply, but her perfect, crystal eyes said it all:

Yes.

"Do you need help?"

Yes.

"Okay…" he sighed. "I'm going to help you, all right? I'm going to help you, but you need to understand this – I'll help you, but you and whatever vampires you're associated with will not hurt me, or my family. Understand? Do you understand me, vampire?"

Yes. I understand you.

He then did something that was against everything he had been taught – he helped her down; took her in his arms. He held her to his chest and quietly brought her into his house, lying her ice-cold body down on his bed. She made a noise of pain that sounded similar to a tiny kitten in distress, or a baby lion trying it's best to roar.

"Shhh," he warned. "Don't make a sound, okay? If my mom or sister finds you in here, that'll be the end of you! This is against everything I should be doing. I should be making you die faster, not helping you! Understand?"

Yes.

"Where is it? Where does it hurt?"

My abdomen.

He tore off her shirt to find her abdomen and chest areas completely torn up – stabbed and bruised, as if someone had beat on her for hours at a time.

"What happened?"

Monsters.

"Vampire hunters?" He prompted. "Like…like me?"

No. Not like you. You are not a monster. You are not like the others.

"I…I'll see what I can do, okay?"

Please hurry.

Medicine, medicine…there had to be something to give her. Something, anything, that would help her…all he could think of was that stuff, that stinging stuff that his mother poured over his scrapped knee when he fell off his bike in the third grade. But how could that heal a vampire? Think, Puck, he yelled at himself. What do vampires need…oh.

"Blood?" He asked her, rushing back to his room. "Do you need blood? Are you thirsty?"

Yes. Please.

"But…where…?"

Please, her eyes told him. I'm dying.

"But I don't know how to help you!" He yowled, when suddenly she reached up and grabbed him by the neckline of his t-shirt – there was a minute when their eyes met, and it was beautiful. In another breathless moment, she pulled him down on the bed next to her, and bit down on his jugular vain. He wanted to scream, but couldn't – there was too much blood for that. She sucked, and gulped rather greedily, her soft red lips holding up his neck. The pain and ache that she felt started to fade with every gulp of his delicious, red blood. Perfection – he was perfection. She could taste it. And, when she had drank enough to strengthen her again, she licked her soft tongue across the bite mark where her teeth had sunken, mending his perfectly mortal skin once more.

Puck coughed.

"What…what happened?"

She smiled at him.

"Did…did you just…" he didn't finish. "Are you okay? Am I okay?"

You're fine. You're perfect.

"What about you?"

I am still weak.

She hoped this didn't give him a reason to finish her off, him being a hunter and all. But he wouldn't, she knew that too well.

"Can you try to sleep?" He whispered to her, rubbing her toned, snow-colored torso as it healed before his eyes. Puck wondered, then, if she was uncomfortable in front of him with nothing covering the top half of her body. At this thought, he got back to his feet, propped the vampire girl up with one hand, and pulled down the covers of his bed with the other. Her haunted eyes looked from the pulled-back sheets and back to him.

Lay with me.

"I…I should get to school…"

Please.

So he lay with her, the girl wrapped up in his sheets, him next to her on top of them, slowly rubbing her torso again. In a daring, heart-stopping moment, she arched her neck up and kissed him, her deep red lips pressed passionately against his. Once she settled back down, she nuzzled her cheek into his chest, but not before kissing the spot on his neck that she had previously sunken her teeth into. That was her spot, she decided. She owned it now.

"My name's Noah," he told her. "I never told you my name. Do you have one?"

No.

"Do you want me to give you one, then?"

Yes. I would.

"Hmm…" he was never the best with names, and the only one he could think of now was Juliet, simply because they were studying Romeo & Juliet in English class. Romeo described her as a holy shine of beauty, and that, to Puck, was what this girl was. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet…" He was supposed to be a vampire hunter, but in this moment, he was completely and totally in love with this girl, this rose, this Juliet, that he could not even think of something so horrific ever again. "Can I call you Juliet?" He asked her.

I like that, her eyes said.

"Beautiful," he remarked to Juliet. "Just like you are."

Noah and Juliet stayed together, her cheek pressed against his rising chest – in and out, in and out – and didn't dare move from that perfect place, or perhaps their fears that this was too good to be true would turn to harsh reality – if they dared move, this could become unreal, this could shatter, this could break. And that, in this moment, had become their very worst fear.

"I love you."

I love you, too.

They made love and never wanted this to end – together they were in a perfect paradox of some strange paradise, some stringing score and a sweet, sweet symphony, one that neither of them had ever heard before. Slowly, the sun faded, moving down the sky; waving goodbye as the stars and smoking moon replaced it in the dark, unforgiving sky.

She looked at him, and they both knew.

"You need to leave, don't you?"

If I don't, I'll die.

"I understand."

I'd rather die then leave you.

"You don't know what you're saying. You're still weak, and tired, and you need to go – if you don't, you'll die, and then I couldn't live with myself."

Don't let me go.

"But I have to. It's the only way for both of us. I love you so much I have to let you go. Understand?"

Yes. I understand.

"…Travel light, don't crush the road

Give the audience their show.

Still too young to get tied,

Work while work is still alive.

Kiss a cheek, but careful to confide.

I'm so clever, I'm so smart,

Doesn't matter, can't rely the heart.

Wish I'd hold it inside,

Couldn't catch you if I tried.

Save the good stuff for the memories...

I know you too well,

I know too much for my own good –

I know you too well,

That's why we ran while we still could.

I know you too well,

Well – what a pleasure it has been.

I know you too well,

Well – what an awful mess I'm in."