My Guardian Vampire

Luna suddenly looked down at me, concerned.

"He was the friend? Oh Green, why didn't you tell me before..." she said, and I wasn't sure what she was inflecting.

"Well, Luna, we'll be off now..." he said, moving his hand from the chair to my shoulder protectively. She nodded, but seemed to hesitate.

"Green... Please stay safe," she said, her face showing conflicting emotions, as if she wanted to say something else. I saw Billie Joe shoot her some kind of warning look, and then he turned around and began to walk out.

"Coming, Green?" Billie Joe taunted as he walked out the door. I hugged Luna quickly, but her warmth was gone, and a guilty-looking sadness claimed her body. I reluctantly walked out, unsure of what was with her sudden change. I looked around for Billie Joe, and saw him waiting with a cab. I quickly jumped in, and he slid in after me. I looked towards the window, making sure he couldn't see my face—and making sure I couldn’t see his either, unsure of how upset he was. It was getting lighter outside, and I could start to feel a slow anxiousness unravel from Billie.

"Uh, we'll stop here," he said, and the driver wordlessly stopped. Billie Joe threw some money at him, and we both stepped outside.

"C'mon, we don't have much time to lose," he said, waiting for me to climb onto him after the cab sped off. I glared at him, giving him a look saying that I wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. He growled, deep and low and menacing.

"Stop being such an ass and get on," he said, taking my hand. I quickly pulled my hand away glaring, but got on anyways. ’And Luna said she didn’t like rude…’ While getting on I purposely kneed him in the side, but he acted like he didn't notice.

We sped home, neither of us saying a word.

Once we were home, I quickly climbed off of Billie's back and walked in. He followed, slamming the door behind me. The calm atmosphere of the room quickly turned sour with our arrival.

"Hey guys," Tré said, not noticing. Mike seemed more in tune with the environment.

"What happened?" he asked, and I said nothing, just collapsed on the couch. If Billie Joe wanted to talk about it I'd let him, otherwise my mouth was staying shut.

"Nothing," Billie Joe growled, grabbing a beer from the counter. I thought he would leave the room to ease the tension, but instead he sat on a ripped leather chair next to the TV, directly across from me. We glared at each other, and the look he gave me—I could tell it was a threat, a battle. This I felt I was prepared for, a fight I could actually win. Glaring was a trait I had surprisingly inherited from my dad, and I considered myself one of the best.

Billie Joe set his eyes on me, heat on red. I matched the stare, Mike and Tré watching us silently. We sat there for more than 10 minutes just glaring at each other, our hate being poured out and fighting in an invisible war in front of our eyes.

Mike and Tré tried speaking to us, cracking jokes to lighten the mood.

Not a muscle moved on either of our faces, the only movement a blink or the steady movement of our chests as we breathed. Eventually the two gave up and left us alone

I was not giving up this fight; no way would I lose to a glare battle. I actually felt bad that I had been such a jerk to Billie, because I did like him. He had given me a place to stay, and had gone all the way to the police station to bring me back. Plus, he had actually made a chip at the numbness—even if it ended badly.

I was thinking all of this, and then Billie Joe began to move.

He smiled, a slow, long smile, his eyes continuing to glare. It was merciless smile, one to kill, and it made me squirm in my seat. I tried to not look away, but then his fangs began to show, and my eyes flickered to his mouth.

"You looked away," Billie Joe said, smiling even more, this time allowing mirth to creep in.

"Shut up you cheated!" I yelled, standing up, stomping my foot, and pointing at him. He stood up defensively.

"I don't cheat; I use what I got. It's not your fault you're inferior."

'Inferior?! No one calls me inferior! Wait a second...'
'Idea!'

"Fine! I want a re-do!" I demanded, but Billie Joe shook his head. I quickly thought of a way to compromise. "You can use your fangs all you want, and we'll make it timed. If I can't get you to stop glaring in uh...15 minutes, I'll admit...you're not a total loser, and that you won..."

"Fine. And you have to drink at least a bottle of whatever alcohol of my choice."

"Fine—wait, what?" I said, and he grinned.

"Too late."

We sat down, agreed on the time, and started. I settled into my glare for a good five minutes, and he seemed to get bored, unimpressed. I began to smile like he did, and he sat up alert as he smiled back, fully showing his teeth now. I resisted the urge to look at them, and instead sighed.

"I guess there's nothing I can do to win..." I said, still glaring at him.

"Nope," he agreed, not taking his eyes off of mine.

I then took my hand, and slowly trailed it up my leg. His cocky smile immediately disappeared, and he seemed to focus harder a little harder on my eyes. I let my hand continue its journey upwards, past my thigh and onto my stomach. From there it went across my chest, and I stopped where the top of my shirt ended. His eyes slightly glazed over, and I smiled even more. I slowly traced the top of my shirt, outlining the hem, stopping where the soft material met the spaghetti shoulder strap. I moved it down my shoulder slowly, my slightly cold hands giving me goose bumps.

I pushed the material slightly down my chest so the shirt was at a slant, and though not a muscle moved on Billie Joe's face, his eyes were totally glazed over now. I let my smile fade and set my glare harder on him, and his eyes once again became focused, trying to match the intensity. I smiled inwardly once I realized he couldn't, but I didn't test my luck and slowly proceeded. I moved my fingers across the now slanted material, pushing slightly so it only moved down the slightest fraction of an inch. I then reached the other strap and this time quickly moved it down. Billie's eyes shook slightly at the sudden move, but still never left mine. He tried to match my gaze harder this time, but still couldn't seem to do it.

I really, really hoped this would work.
I wanted to win.

I used both hands now to push off the clear bra straps underneath, letting them hand down with the other straps. I smiled maliciously at Billie Joe. I slowly as possible began to pull the material down on each side, letting it come dangerously close to revealing my chest, every second taking seemingly forever.

And then it happened.

Billie Joe's eyes flickered once to my chest, and I quickly pushed the material back up though I hadn't shown anything. I laughed in triumph.

"Sucker!" I yelled, laughing in his face. Whether I would have actually done it or not I honestly wasn't sure, but I was extremely glad it hadn't had to come to that. I quickly put my straps back on, still smirking at Billie Joe. He gripped the chair tightly.

"That's not fair! Fuck you!" He yelled, but I just continued to laugh.

"Billie, Billie, it is fair. I just use what I got—it's not your fault you're inferior..." I mimicked, smirking. He walked out of the room, not saying a word. I laughed again, and Tré came bounding in.

"So you guys make up or what?" he asked, and I smiled even more.

"Not exactly... Billie Joe is a sore loser!" I yelled, making sure Billie Joe heard it. He responded by slamming his door.

Tré and I mocked and joked about Billie very loudly for a while, but eventually we both got bored of it and settled down to watch some TV. Mike eventually came in with food and drink for me, making me blush in embarrassment.

"You didn't have to do that Mike. I appreciate it, though," I thanked sheepishly. He just nodded, and we all began to watch some horror flick on the TV, Tré scaring the shit out of me every once in a while—and even got a few jumps from Mike. The movie eventually ended, and we were all pretty tired, so we decided to head off to bed.

"Hey..." I said, before they left. "I don't know how long you guys want me to stay here, but whenever you guys want me to leave, I don't want it to be awkward or anything. Just tell me to leave, and my ass will be out," I said smiling. I really felt guilty for everything that had happened, as I hadn’t exactly been the nicest person to these guys that had sheltered me for the past few days.

"Don't worry about it Ali, I don't think us kicking you out is your biggest problem at the moment. Good night," Mike said, half-hugging me before he vanished. I wasn't sure how this was supposed to make me feel.