Falling for Fangs

“Will you dance with me?” Chloe asked, looking up at him. “If Tilly gets them to play some good music?”

Maxwell forced himself to smile, his buzz suddenly gone and replaced by a headache. Alcohol was a bitch.

“Sure,” he said, trying to keep his composure. “I’m just going to go and have a chat with Charles. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Chloe said cheerfully, peeling herself off him and making her way towards the bar, presumably to help Tilly convince the bartender that it was time for dancing.

And maybe it made Maxwell the world’s biggest asshole, but he looked over at her just once more, and then left the bar without a word.

He told himself he’d text her later, claiming to be unwell. He didn’t think she’d believe it. It wasn’t like his kind got sick.

But he couldn’t stay. Couldn’t stay there in the bar full of happy people, with Chloe wrapped around him, smiling up at him and tousling his hair. Not when he knew it would all end so soon. And the longer it went on, the more heartbroken he’d be.

“I need to…distance,” Maxwell said to the empty street as he began the long walk back to the Sanguis Estate. “Distance. I’m getting in too deep.” He was vaguely aware he wasn’t making a whole lot of sense, but that didn’t seem particularly important right now. After all, he was only talking to himself.

His head ached, a mess of confused thoughts swirling around and around. Chloe liked him. She really did. But not enough. Not enough for there to be a real future for the two of them. And if there was no future, could he really keep enjoying the present?