Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to do with any True Blood Characters in this story. I own the first person character, Elvira and other characters not associated with True Blood.

A/N: I am pumping out chapters. I really want this work to do well. Please give me feedback 3 :3

Chapter Two:

I gripped the page and passed the rest back and sat up. The page had six assignments that had due dates for every day the class met. The list of books to be read in class was pretty interesting. I noticed one in particular, "Dracula." I chuckled and continued to read the rest of the syllabus.

One of the students called out, it was the man with the long, black hair.

"I read like, half of these books already. What do I do?" He spoke in a gruff, warm voice.

"Read it again, trust me, you're going to need to know everything and memorize as much as possible." The professor sat in his chair again and clasped his hands together. "Now before we do anything, I am going to take attendance. Ashley Sifalti?"

I tuned out the professor as he called each name, although making sure to listen for my own and I doodled out eyes on to a blank page in my notebook. Detailing the lashes, shading the color of the eyes with my pencil, I was so lost in my world that I did not hear the man call my name twice.

"Elvira Whelmson?"

I lifted my head and raised my dark, black eyes, softly calling out with my melodic voice.

"Here."

The man with the honey blonde hair and white v-neck glanced over to me, and I looked into his beautiful hypnotic blue eyes. He tilted his head and a flirty smile appeared on his face. I was pondering on looking away, but I could not take my eyes away from the slight magnetic pull I felt emanating from this man. His charming smile revealed his pearl white teeth and his perfect jaw line.

That's it! I am not looking up anymore!

I busied myself with work from another class and made sure not to raise my eyes again, to avoid anymore torture to myself.

After what seemed to be an hour and a half, I took out my phone to see that the time was 6:50pm. The professor noticed that the students and I collected our belongings and readied ourselves to leave. He raised a hand and called out, "See you all on Thursday."

I pulled on the black mesh cover that I had put on my chair, picked up my messenger bag and jetted out of the room before anyone else got up. I wanted to just go home, grab a book and curl up with my kitten Cinderella by the fire. I made my way back down the hall which I before had been in and pulled the door open to the staircase. At that moment I heard a man call out my name.

"Elvira!" A warm honey-like voice called out.

I turned to see the owner. It was the tall black-haired boy. I tilted my head. He caught up to me and I had to stand back a bit, due to the height difference. I was around five foot four. This man seemed around six feet tall. It wasn't that bad.

He put his hand out. "I'm Alcide. And you're Elvira, right?"

I nodded, slightly uncomfortable of him, especially since he caught me staring earlier. He was holding his hand out as I spoke to myself mentally. He shifted and I shook his hand and nodded again.

"You look like a musician," he glanced at the musician's legal guide and sheet music tucked under my arm, "What do you play?"

He seemed friendly, but yet I did not want to speak.

So I made the movements with my hands and fingers, as if I had played a Grand piano.

"Piano! Cool! I'm majoring in criminology. I guess you are a music major?"

I nodded again.

"You don't talk much, do you?" He frowned and I shook my head. He leaned down to my ear and whispered, "I could change that."

At this, I blushed hard and slapped him across the face, taken aback by his sudden lewdness. He was about to yell at me when a large hand clambered on his shoulder and a velvety, smooth voice spoke.

"Leave the poor young woman alone, Alcide."

It was the man with the icy, beautiful blue eyes.

This was my cue to make a run for it. I took the opportunity and held my belongings tightly and skipped fast down the steps and out the front door of the North Building. I made a right and walked briskly toward the parking lot to find my mother's car I had borrowed. I had found it and made my way towards it, only to be stopped by a tall, muscular form. I trailed my eyes up from his black tight jeans to his white v-neck and I staggered back a little. I took in the sight of the gorgeous honey-colored blonde.

How did you get here so fast? I wondered to myself.

"Good evening, Elvira. I'm sorry for my friend's introduction," he sneered at the word friend, "He won't bother you again. I am very pleased that you are in my class, you seem very interesting."

I was confused and a little wary. What was this guy up to?

He put out a long arm, extending his slender hand to me. "I am Eric Northman, and I am very pleased to meet you."

I leaned around him to peer at my car and then back at him. I nodded swiftly and rushed around him, slightly feeling sorry for not returning a response. He had been so nice as far as I could tell. But I just felt so odd near him. I didn't like it. I stumbled for my keys, unlocked the door and opened it and looked up to see him next to me.

"You don't talk much, do you Elvira?"

I shuddered at the way he said my name, as if he was trying to get me to respond to the buttery unfamiliar accent of his.

I breathed in sharply, and tried to push away the pink that dusted my cheeks.

"No," I spoke for the second time that day. "Thank you, Eric." My melodic and honey-like voice flowed from my lips. Eric seemed taken aback by my voice speaking his name and became silent with a look of curiosity.

I got into my car, shut the door and turned the car on and sped out of the parking lot, down the road and straight to my house. I parked the car in the driveway and walked up to my home. My home had a beautiful tree that had branches that bloomed like a flower in May. The house itself was not big; it was two stories, surrounded by trees and a tall, brown, decaying fence in the back. The house had while paneling, a large southern style window; which was unusual for a Long Island home and a brown roof adorned it. It was comfortable, and I loved it. I locked the car and unlocked my front door, calling out to my mother as I closed it.

"Mom, I'm home! School was good; I'll be in my room, bye!" I rushed up the stairs and ran straight into my room, avoiding the mother's usual questions of, "How was school," or, "Who'd you meet," or, "Anyone cute?" I was having none of it. An eighteen year old girl deserved some type of privacy and solitude from a loving, constricting mother. My room was the equivalent of an inspirational fortress. The plum purple color met with the silver ceiling and clashed with the blue carpet from the previous color of my room. I had a large bed fit for two young women, no one taller than five feet eight inches. A kitten calendar, medals, lyrics, photos I took myself adorned the wall my bed was against. There were books upon books in the book shelf, along with an antique camera. The furniture was a dark mahogany wood. I flung my body out on to my fluffy feather top bed and pressed my face into the pillows. I kicked off the dirty boots I had worn all day and peeled off the knitted sweater dress, trying not to lift my body up. My nerves were all shot from the busy first day of classes.

I slumped off my bed and walked to my dresser and unclasped my bra from the back and let it fall from me. I searched to find a long night-shirt, when I felt eyes on my back. I quickly put a shirt on and rushed to close my blinds and felt exposed for some reason. I decided that it was time I passed out and crawled into bed and tugged the lamp off, enveloped in the dark. I felt those eyes again. Those icy, blue eyes somewhere out my window, close.