*Lucero wakes up not remembering much, if any, of the night before.*
March Theme: Meetings
The air around Lucero was a comfortable kind of chilled. Which meant it was cold. Ugh. What had they got up to the previous night? Their head ached in that way it did when they’d gone a little overboard on any particular night out. Spending too much time around intoxicated people, getting intoxicated by proxy. Or maybe they had indulged too. None of it triggered any memory, which meant it must have been bad.
They should open their eyes and figure out if they even made it home. The should figure out if the cool– cold air was because they were outside, or if they’d wandered into some kind of ice storage shed, or… who even knew what else. Outside would be bad. But the comfort of air that matched their body temperature for once was so soothing, especially against a head that would soon be aching, that Lucero couldn’t quite bring themself to do it.
It definitely wasn’t because Lucero didn’t want to face the fallout of their previous and forgotten night.
Pain exploded over their collarbone.
Lucero’s eyes flew open.
“Why are you screaming?” Lucero accused, bolting into a sitting position and glaring accusatively at the human. “You’re not the one who just got stabbed!”
Her heart raced, blood flashing obviously through her jugular. With the pain coursing through Lucero from the cut, that zooming blood might as well have sparkled like an anime character.
In her hand shone a scalpel. The coagulating oddly coloured blood of a vampire clung to the blade.
Lucero touched gentle fingers to their collarbone, coming away sticky with the same tacky and uncomfortable blood. They looked around, trying to ignore the way injuries made them hungry. Trying to ignore that subtle wash sound of pumping blood. The cold room was all silver coloured metal and white walls. Medical but the smell was wrong. And what kind of medical went in with a scalpel immediately?
“I am so sorry. I swear I checked if you had a pulse. And the paramedics checked too and—”
Paramedics… that must have been quite the forgotten night for Lecero to end up somewhere that had resulted in paramedics being summoned.
Vampires did sleep like the dead, they supposed. They could hardly fault the paramedics or this apparent morgue worker for that. But still… “Where are my clothes?”
With a shaking hand, she pointed at a cardboard evidence box.
Lucero hopped off the metal table and went for the box, no shame in their nudity after so many years of existence.
“Wait, I need to call this in. This is… this is such a huge mistake, there’s going to be paperwork and police and—”
“No.” Lucero turned, letting their eyes turn sharp and hypnotic. “I was never here. Destroy all the intake paperwork and forget this ever happened.” They turned back to continue pulling on their clothes, rank with spilled blood and alcohol. Disgusting. “And poke someone next time before you go in with the knife, okay?”
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