Chapter 8
867words
"Cathy! The kitchen's on fire!"
Cathy dashed into the kitchen to find Alaric staring bewildered at a smoking pot.
"I was only trying to make pasta..." he said helplessly.
"You boiled away all the water!" Cathy quickly killed the heat and switched on the exhaust fan. "How is that even possible?"
"I thought... it needed to keep boiling."
"You have to watch the clock!" Cathy planted her hands on her hips. "And why ignore the recipe?"
"I did follow it," Alaric replied with grave seriousness. "But the instructions said 'cook 8-10 minutes,' and I couldn't determine if eight minutes was sufficient, so I... continued cooking."
Cathy pressed her palm to her forehead.
"So how long did you actually cook it?"
"Forty minutes."
"..."
Cathy inhaled deeply and dumped the ruined pot into the sink.
"Forget it," she sighed. "Let's just order delivery again."
"Delivery again?" Alaric looked genuinely disappointed. "I want to master cooking."
"Maybe start with instant ramen?" Cathy suggested. "Don't leap straight to Italian cuisine."
"Instant noodles?" Alaric's eyes brightened. "I can prepare those!"
"Really?"
"Absolutely," Alaric said with newfound confidence. "You instructed me previously. Boil water, add noodles, wait three minutes."
"Right..."
"And then..." Alaric hesitated. "Drain the water?"
"...No, you don't drain it," Cathy covered her face. "That's ramen, not pasta."
"Is there a difference?"
"A massive difference!"
They continued bickering in the kitchen but ultimately ordered delivery.
Cathy returned to her computer and resumed writing her new story.
On screen, the title proudly displayed: "My Vampire Boyfriend Can't Cook: A Domestic Comedy."
Alaric approached with two glasses of water and glanced at her screen.
"...you're writing about me again," he observed.
"Art imitates life," Cathy replied with a smirk.
"This constitutes a violation of my privacy rights," Alaric stated formally.
"Then sue me." Cathy stuck out her tongue. "I'll split the royalties with you fifty-fifty."
"I don't want money." Alaric sat beside her. "I want co-author credit."
"Co-author?"
"Yes." Alaric nodded firmly. "Since I'm your subject matter, I should be credited as a collaborator."
Cathy burst out laughing.
"Fine, fine, I'll credit you," she conceded. "How about the pen name 'Ex-Vampire'?"
"...I decline."
"What would you prefer?"
"Perhaps..." Alaric considered thoughtfully. "Alaric's Human Chronicles?"
"Too verbose." Cathy shook her head. "Let's go with 'Domestic Vampire Diaries.'"
"That title..." Alaric frowned deeply. "lacks appropriate gravitas."
"How about 'Former Vampire Lord's Guide to Mortal Living'?"
"...Never mind." Alaric relented. "Domestic Vampire Diaries it is."
Cathy grinned victoriously and resumed typing.
Her phone suddenly buzzed.
She checked the screen—an email notification.
Sender: Hunters Organization UK Branch
Subject: Concerning the Dangers of Supernatural-Themed Fiction
Cathy opened the email and scanned its contents.
The message essentially demanded she cease all vampire-related content or face consequences.
The email was signed by Claude.
Below was a personal note: "Stay safe, Cathy."
Cathy smiled and closed the email.
"What was that?" Alaric asked.
"Nothing important," Cathy replied. "Just Claude being stubborn, warning me to stop writing about vampires."
"Will you comply?"
"Of course not." Cathy's lips curved into a smile. "What I write is fiction—pure imagination, nothing to do with reality."
She paused meaningfully.
"Besides, I'm not writing about vampires anymore."
"What are you writing about then?"
"You." Cathy met his gaze. "A fool who surrendered immortality for the chance to grow old with me."
Alaric stared at her for a moment, then smiled warmly.
"Do you regret it?" he asked softly. "Letting me stay?"
"Do you?" Cathy countered.
"Ask me that question..." Alaric considered. "Fifty years from now."
"Deal." Cathy extended her hand. "In fifty years, we'll see who has more regrets."
"What if fifty years from now," Alaric clasped her hand, "neither of us has any regrets?"
"Then we'll extend the contract another thirty years," Cathy said with a smile.
Outside the window, the sun dipped below the horizon.
Extra Chapter
"Chapter One: Why the Former Vampire Lord Set Fire to the Kitchen Three Times."
Alaric read this line and sighed deeply.
"Must you document my culinary failures?"
"Absolutely." Cathy replied firmly. "This is premium content."
"...I want a divorce."
"We aren't even married yet."
"Then let's marry immediately," Alaric said with grave seriousness, "followed by prompt divorce proceedings."
Cathy stared at him blankly, then dissolved into uncontrollable laughter.
"Is that your idea of a proposal?"
"I suppose it is." Alaric admitted. "Though I'm unfamiliar with modern courtship rituals."
"Modern humans," Cathy wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, "typically offer a ring."
"A ring?" Alaric considered briefly, then extracted an antique ring from his pocket. "Would this suffice?"
"What is..."
"The Ashford family heirloom," Alaric explained. "Traditionally passed to the next heir. I've carried it always, but now..."
He paused, his expression softening.
"Now I wish for you to have it."
Cathy stared at the ring as fresh tears welled in her eyes.
"You idiot..." she choked out. "Something so precious..."
"To me," Alaric said with quiet intensity, "you are more valuable than any heirloom."
Cathy extended her trembling hand, allowing him to slide the ring onto her finger.
"Then I accept," she said softly. "But fair warning—I can't cook either."
"That's acceptable." Alaric nodded solemnly. "I shall learn."
"You'll burn down the apartment."
