Hello everyone. I'm sorry this took so long. But I warned that I take long to update. This is definitely short, but enjoy.

The next few hours were spent in the spacious family room at his Victorian mansion. He asked me more about school and about what happened after he left. I clued him into the bare basics; the police had been sure Marsala had abused me and how I was forced to return to therapy for the last four months.

The therapist had allowed me to discontinue because he released I was over the situation, if not comfortable with it. At school I had been interrogated thoroughly by my classmates but the excitement had bubbled down after a while. When midnight chimed, (for he had a grandfather clock), he got up and dropped me home, promising to stay in touch.

The second time I saw him was in the summer time. This time he had sent me a letter telling me exactly when he would come. Michel entertained himself by pretending to make up an identity for Christopher, fooling my brother into thinking he was a superhero. Later on that summer, I finally yelled at him for leaving me no return address. We were at his house once more and I had thrown a pillow at him. He deflected it easily.

"Really Kerry, one would think you'd be politer to your host." I scoffed at his comment.

"Not if said host continually acts like some babysitter dealing with a spoilt child. Why can't you just give me your address?!" I said, hugging another one of the cushions in order to distract myself.

"Because there's no reason to. Besides, people will notice if you suddenly begin a correspondence via snail mail, and secrecy is my best friend."

I pouted, "How about an email?" He laughed at me as he tossed over the cushion I had lobbed at his head earlier.

"So you can torture me constantly and spam my computer? No thanks."

"Michel, this is ridiculous. If you truly want a friend then you've got one, but not if the scale remains tipped as it is." I said reminding him of his own words. For a moment he looked at me before leaning over and running a finger against my glands.

"But Kerry, if you don't like vampire games—"

"—don't play." I finished for him, swallowing tightly.

"Which is why I'm asking. I'm sick of games, and I'm sick of you threatening me. I like my normal life. So unless you start listening to some of my rules, I'm leaving."

It wasn't like I was afraid of him, but he had this special talent of making me jump out of my skin. I saw his jaw tense for a moment as he pulled back and reclined on the arm of the couch. Then in a movement I couldn't quite follow, he had moved away altogether as he headed for the kitchen. Bewildered, I stumbled as I tried to follow.

"What are you doing?" I questioned. He shrugged and picked up the phone and a Chinese takeout menu from off the fridge. I waited for a minute as he ordered Sichuan chicken and fried noodles. I didn't bother asking why.

When he finally put the phone down, he sighed gestured to the window. "If you leave a replying the mailbox, I'll get it. A friend of mine has a permanent residence around here, so he can forward me any of your mail. And before you snap at me, remember that I change my identity as often as you change clothes. If you start sending letters to guys who die every four months, the cops will come after you."

I was about to interrupt so he quickly added, "And I hate it when the police try to get involved."

(A/N: End of flashback!)

From that night onwards, we had a strange truce. He was letting me in, though at what costs, I don't know. I still don't know why he really came back in the first place. But that's all history, and I'm about to graduate, and he had finally sent another letter, this time from Florida.

Kerry,

As you know, I hate cold weather so I headed down south for winter break. There's no where like the sunshine state to get a work on my tan. Anyway, my plans have worked out and I'll be able to come over for your graduation.

I've also bumped into an old friend of your down here, you might want to give her a call, she misses you. Her number's xxx-xxx-xxxx.

As Always,

~M.

My mind raced as I tried to remember if any of my friends had gone to Florida for college last year. I knew a lot of the seniors through the school plays, or at least from behind the curtain since I ran stage crew. Come to think of it, I think Alyssa went to Miami University.

Quickly, I dialed the number and waited as the bells rang. Outside, I watched as snowflakes flicked in the waning light.

Someone on the other line picked up, "Hi, this is Kerry, I was told a friend of mine lives here?" I waited until I heard a gasp.

"Kerry? Honey, it's mom. How are you sweetheart? I'm so sorry I—"

But I didn't hear anything else. That was my mother's voice. Something I haven't heard in over two years. Just then, a school bus screeched to a halt in front of my house and I saw Ian bouncing toward our front door.

Review please, I love feedback, even if it's a critique.

~Vine