Two Months Earlier

I sighed into my full glass of water. Why humans drank it was beyond me. It was so bland and tasteless. Surely it was only useful for quenching thirst, though my liquid of choice was far different than plain old water. I set it down on the cold counter, tracing a ring it had left with moistness. I smeared it with my white little finger. My hand seemed to glow against the fake brown marble bar.

"We're about to close for the night, Alice." A voice said politely. It was Figgie, the bartender. He was a kind human to me. I smiled at him as he went to work drying a glass in his meaty hands. He was very pink and had liver spots all over like some sort of disease. I was glad his blood was thin and not exactly unbearably tempting, for I wouldn't enjoy imagining killing him every time I spotted him. He was bald with a couple rolls of fat above his neck where his skin fell over his collar. The hair that remained was only half an inch long and graying. His eyes were wide and blue. They were what made him look exceptionally younger than he really was. If not for that, I wouldn't find him as such a cute middle aged human.

"You need any help closing shop?" I asked, pulling on my thin cardigan. It was all I had--a nubby blue sweater thing, and it was freezing out. He seized from giving me weird looks on my fashion anymore. It'd been cheap and I could wear it year-long...

Figgie sniggered at my question. "Go on, Alice. Have a nice night. I don't need a pretty little lady like you to help me with dirty men's work." He pulled out a stained rag and began to swipe it across the bar. He picked up a couple peants and flicked them away, shrugging.

"Are you sure? I always have plenty free time." I prodded. It was painfully true. He sighed; he smiled.

"Broom's by the coat rack." I gleefully pounced across the dirty tiles and snatched the old wooden brromstick. I went to work vigorously on the floor. Figgie obviosuly didn't see it as much of a priority. He was long finished with his own work when i was still inspecting the floor. "C'mon, Alice! Time to go, darlin'."

I smiled back at him, careful at how much my teeth gleamed. I propped the lone broom against the wall and headed for the door.

I suspected that Figgie believed I was mentally ill. Just a speck, however. He still liked to strike up conversations with me and joke around. He always gave me a strange look--every night. I always came in and ordered one glass of water--the cheapest on the menu.

When I first came into the diner, sparkling and ecstatic at finding the perfect match as my vision's--Figgie kindly told me that I had to order something if I wanted a place at the bar. I had to tell myself to stop grinning like an idiot and order a water. It wasn't a big deal--I had a lot of money. I didn't care to tell anyone how I obtained it, however. I never took more than ten dollars from a person at a time. I was an exceptional pick-pocketer. Besides the occasional article of clothing--a necessity; I never bought anything but waters at Figgie's bar.

I stirred from my motionless position. I smiled at him. "Alright, Figgie. Have a good night." My eyes met my faraway drink still on the bar. It was only three sips less than when I'd bought it. I grasped the doorknob when Figgie asked, "Do you think he'll show up soon?"

I knew what he meant. I had told him, but just enough to sound like a harmless, romantic lunatic and not a vampire that could see premonitions. He would be tall and blonde, I had gushed. It was a human thing to do, I felt. His skin would be beautiful (this was also an edit on my part. I could clearly see in my visions that his skin was ravaged by something I noted to inspect more the next time I saw him) and his facial features elegant.

I told him with certainty that his face would put the statues of saints and angels at the town church to shame. I told him that he was a kind and gentle person, though I couldn't be positive myself. If he was destined to be with me, he had to be--because I never liked arrogant meatheads. His face was too sensitive for him to be anything else, though. To conclude my long list of silly rants, I sheepishly told him that he had beautiful blue eyes, like the ocean. I tossed in some silly descriptions like how soulful they were; how piercing. I couldn't tell him that they were truthfully as red as glowing blood, rubies or scarlet cloth. What sort of dream man was that for a normal girl to have?

I shrugged at him. "I can never be sure. I think it will be pretty soon, though. I can sort of feel it…at least I hope that's what it is." I rolled my eyes and giggled. I had told him that I had a dream (something very human-like) of his diner and I had met the man I'd always wanted. I told him I had set out to spend every night there until I found him. He had given me a strange look and simply asked me not to discuss it with customers. Said it was bad for business.

He saw me as a hopeless romantic chasing a silly dream, but I knew I would meet the mysterious blonde vampire with red glowing eyes one day. Every night as he closed up, he's ask me about the man and if he was coming closer to meeting me. He wanted to tell me he did care about my silly ambition--I could see in his face that was all he thought it was. I'll admit to feeling slightly discouraged by this and the fact that the blonde man hadn't shown up as soon as I had planned. Now he was waving at me as I scooped up my tiny black purse and headed out the door. The bell tinkled, and when I looked over my shoulder, Figgie was turning the 'Open' sign to become 'Closed'.

**This chapter was inspired by Natasha Bedingfield's Soulmate. Give it a listen!

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