The minute I arrive home, I know something is wrong.

I'm not usually one for premonitions. But this time, it's pure instinct.

There is a looming presence that casts a shadow upon me as soon as I walk over the threshold. A pair of invisible eyes make the back of my neck prickle with their unseen gaze. Someone- or something- is here. Something foreign. Something unknown. Something dangerous.

I decide to ignore this, even though my whole body is screaming for me to run away and never come back.

My name is Frank Iero, 23-year-old guitarist with a love for Skittles and a loner who will die in his living room, surrounded by his 72 cats. Even though I love dogs.

Things go normally, nothing out of the ordinary, and eventually I'm able to shrug off the feeling, passing it off as loneliness from having this house and no one to share it with.

It never really went away, though.

That night, as I lay in bed, thinking, I felt the feeling increase. My blood ran cold and I shivered under the covers.

I glanced around my room, a small sense of relief flooding through me each time my eyes met an empty corner.

Then I saw something that made my heart stop.

A shadowed figure is hidden in the corner, shaded by the dim streetlight casting a thin beam of light onto the floor in front of him, making him (or her) almost impossible to see. It's no wonder I missed them before.

Then, as I am starting to have a panic attack, I blink.

It's gone.

Shaking like a leaf in the wind, I curl back under the covers and sleep the fear away.

The next morning I awake with the same prickling feeling on the back of my neck.

Strange.

I got up and ate breakfast, no plans whatsoever. Maybe I could jam on Pansy later. Pansy's my guitar, by the way.

Nothing eventful happened that day either. I had long since grown used to the foreboding sense lingering in the air, but I still wondered about the dark figure last night. Who- or what- was that? Obviously, it wasn't real, but where did it come from?

Crawling under the bedcovers, I tried to sleep, but again looked nervously around the room.

And there it was.

The figure loomed once more in the corner.

I fought back a gasp and shut my eyes tight, wishing it would disappear again.

It did.

I drifted off to sleep once more.

The same thing happened throughout the week. I was starting to get extremely worried for the sake of my sanity.

Friday was the worst. By then, the feeling was so strong it was enough to be considered a physical pain. And yet I still had no clue what was causing it. Maybe it and the shadow man were linked…

That night, I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, but then eventually just gave up and forced myself to relax.

Before my eyes slipped closed, I spotted the all too familiar dark figure standing in the corner once more.

I sighed. I must be going insane or something. I will not be able to sleep on that, so I'll just close my eyes, and when I look back, it'll be gone.

But when I looked again, it was still there. And staring at me.

"HOLY SHIT!" I screamed.

My eyes darted around, searching for a weapon. Then my gaze fell upon something hanging above my head. A cross.

God, I thought as it took a step forward. God will protect me.

I wasn't usually very religious, but at this point it really was the only hope I had.

I reached around, yanked the crucifix off the wall, and braced it in front of me.

He bared his- very sharp- teeth at me, until he saw what I was holding, and shrank back into the shadows.

I advanced slowly towards him, appraising his reaction with each step I took. The closer I got, the more frightened he seemed to become, until he was sitting on the floor with his knees pressed up against his chest, hands outstretched and shaking, eyes on the crucifix. Why was he so afraid of it, as it seemed?

"Please don't hurt me," he whimpered, cowering into the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Who the fuck are you?" I shrieked, panic clear in my shaky voice.

"G-Gerard."

"Gerard?"

"Yeah."

I observed him for a minute. Now that I got a closer look at him, he was very contrasting, with ivory skin and ebony hair. Somehow, though, the colors blended together, making a face that was overall very rebellious.

"Again, why are you here?"

"I had no…other place to go. I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere."

"Why come here, then? What…the fuck…" I trailed off, the reality of the situation sinking in. Some fucking creep had followed me home and stayed at my house for God knows how long and I hadn't even fucking realized it.

"I, well, kind of picked up your scent and just…followed it, I guess. Please, I won't hurt you. If I had wanted to, I would have done it long ago. I've been here for more than a week." Shit. I was right. "Just put that goddamn crucifix down. Please."

I shook my head. "How do I know you're not going to attack me?"

"As I said, I could have long ago."

I slowly lowered the crucifix and backed to the other side of the room. Even from a distance, I could see him relax.

"Gerard?"

"Yeah?" he whispered.

"Did you have somewhere to stay before this?"

"Yes."

"Why did you leave?"

"My coven, as you'd call it, kicked me out for…specific reasons. Not to be shared with you."

Suddenly, he looked sulky.

"Coven?"

"Never mind. Go to sleep."

"Wait, Gerard, what about a cov-"

"I said go to sleep," he growled, curling into the corner.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, as I lay back down it hit me.

The sharp teeth.

The mysterious demeanor.

Fear of a crucifix.

It all added up.

And, even though I've never experienced anything supernatural before, there was only one rational explanation, as rational as it can be.

I was living with a vampire named Gerard.

My only defense was a small cross above my head.

He was only about fifteen feet away on the floor, perfectly uninjured.

And, as ridiculous as it was, eventually I drifted off into an uneasy slumber.

The next morning, I awoke. Alive.

That was surprising.

And Gerard was nowhere to be seen.

That was, until I turned around and almost shit myself.

A pair of bright, intense, fiery hazel eyes met my own for a brief second before Gerard shrugged and turned back to the dead deer on my floor.

I'm not even going to ask.

"Gerard?"

He looked up menacingly, not saying a word, but at least acknowledging me.

"When did you first get here?"

He scrunched his nose, then spoke in a low, guttural voice. "Tuesday, I think."

"Why haven't you killed me yet?"

His eyes flashed, and he turned away. I wasn't expecting a reply, but his tone was contemplating as he answered me.

"I think the only two reasons are, one, I've been living in your house, and two, you've never done anything wrong. Never hurt anyone. I respect that enough not to kill you. Also, you have a crucifix hanging above your bed, which you could use anytime on me, like you did last night."

I was curious as to how he knew I had never hurt anyone, but I shrugged and blamed it on vampire instinct.

"I made you breakfast," he said coolly. My eyes immediately went to the animal on the floor, and I almost choked, until I realized there was a smell of fried eggs coming from the kitchen.

"Uh…thanks?"

He nodded, his fingers gently prodding the doe.

Cautiously, I clambered out of bed and damn near sprinted to the kitchen.

On the table was a very delicious-looking plate of bacon and eggs. I sighed, amused at the irony of the situation. Gerard didn't know I was a vegetarian.

I pushed the bacon aside, sat down and began to eat. Though I would never admit it, it was actually really good. I didn't think there was any way he could have poisoned it…

"You're not gonna eat that?"

I jumped and looked up, only to be greeted with a scowling, pale face.

I laughed softly and shook my head. "Nah. I'm a vegetarian."

His expression was hilarious.

"So, you mean to tell me that I'm a vampire living in the house of a person who doesn't eat meat," he summed up.

My suspicions were confirmed once and for all.

"Pretty much."

"That's ridiculous."

"And ironic," I added.

"Whatever. Eat up."

"Thanks for this, Gerard," I smiled once I was done, putting my plate in the sink.

"Don't think for a second that we're friends, Frank. I was just repaying you for me staying in your house," he said venomously, fangs gleaming.

"So, making me breakfast is supposed to put you out of debt for staying unnoticed in my house for a week? If you weren't a vampire, I'd probably make you clean the house."

He growled. "I think I'm way out of debt for not killing you when you lowered the crucifix last night. It's your fault."

I grinned, making his eyes narrow. "What are you smiling about?"

I shook my head, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing. Just thinking…you chose to follow me home. I had nothing to do with this."

He scowled, and trudged upstairs to his usual sulking spot. The corner of my room.

I sighed and turned on my laptop. Going to Google, I opened the search engine and typed in one single word.

Vampire.

Most of the shit that came up was Twilight and other drama queen stories, but I found one reasonable website. It was a list on the historical vampires, the first being Dracula.

There was nothing about human interaction, however.

I typed again in the search engine.

Can a human befriend a vampire?

It sounded ridiculous, so it was probably a good idea.

I clicked on Yahoo!Answers.

There was the question, asked by a complete stranger, and underneath was a reply by someone who looked like they actually had a brain.

It depends. If the vampire has enough self-control, then yes, they can, but if he or she is extremely bloodthirsty the human may end up dying. There is one way a vampire can manage his or her thirst, and that is to love that human- as a partner, as a sibling, as a best friend, it doesn't matter. The vampire would have to actually care for that person.

Well, I'm going to die.

So...

Yeah.

You know the drill.