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Description
Brett grabbed his elbow in his hand, holding his arm to his side. “L-look... I’m sorry I..” “It’s okay.” Druid interrupted, smiling. Brett blinked in surprise, then smiled. “I forgot you can read my thoughts...” he chuckled lightly, then walked up to the silverette. “Brett?” Druid whispered, and Brett could feel him poking around in his head. “Hmm?” he hummed in returned, offering a small grin at the boy. “Were you gonna uhm... Kiss me?” he asked quietly, tilting his head to the left curiously. Brett pursed his lips, then nodded slowly. “Y-yes... I wanted you to stay so bad, because...” he paused, looking down at the cold, stone floor of the mausoleum. He swallowed slowly, as the other vampire caught his chin in his fingers and lifted his head, flashing a cheeky smile. “Brett, I’m so scared...” he whispered, “I have to tell you something you won’t like.” Brett cocked an eyebrow, then nodded slowly. “O-okay.” Brett murmured, and Druid sharply tilted his face upward to stare into his eyes. “Brett... What would you say if I loved you?” he whispered, the boy’s face flushing light pink. “I...” Brett began, but glanced down. “Do you mean...” his voice dropped to a whisper, “Romantically?” Druid chuckled, almost sadly, and stepped away from the black haired boy. “No, but you’re disgusted with me now.” he murmured, “No matter... I’ll just pretend I never said a thing, and we’ll still be best friends.” he looked up at Brett nonchalantly, faking a smile, “Would you still be my friend, even If I... loved you?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. Brett pursed his lips, then slowly nodded. “Of course, Druid... You’re my best friend.” he murmured, smiling and lurching forward to embrace the boy, with happily obliged. “Now, we just need to see if Vladimir convinces the Conclave to let me stay...” Druid murmured into Brett’s shoulder, inhaling deeply. Brett laughed, and pushed away from Druid. “I know you have a crush on me, or whatever... But don’t smell me like that.” he chuckled, watching Druid look down sheepishly and grin, his face crimson. Brett smiled, then glanced down at the floor of the mausoleum. “Druid, what are these news paper clippings?” he asked, bending down and picking one up. “Oh, just some things... I’ve been wanted for murder for awhile now.” Druid chuckled, shrugging. Brett snorted, rolling his eyes slightly. “And this notebook?” he asked, picking it up and flipping it open. Druid blinked, then grabbed at it in horror. “N-no! Wait, those are my poems!” he yelled, but Brett held the book away, reading one, silently moving his lips. “These are good... What else do you write?” Brett asked, flipping through the pages until the poems ended. “One-shots...” the silver haired teen murmured, glancing down in embarrassment. Brett smiled, sitting down on the cool, stone floor and glancing up at Druid. “Do you have a pen or something?” he asked, glancing around the floor. Druid crouched down beside him, looking at the blank page. “Actually... I have something for you.” Druid began hesitantly, then crawled over and pulled up a stone. He pulled out a small, composition book. It wasn’t one like you could buy for ninety-nine cents at a store, but it was leather bound, with slick, pale parchment. A leather strap and small silver buckle held it together. Druid handed the book to Brett with a small smile. “I thought you would like this, since I filled up your last notebook with my drawings...” he cooed, offering an apologetic grin. “Wow... How long have you had this?” Brett asked in awe, admiring the beautiful book. “Around five... Ten years...” he murmured, shrugging. “It was too nice to soil, so I just kept it. I want you to have it.” Druid smiled, then clicked open the buckle. A small pouch was pressed tightly in the pages. Druid removed the pouch and opened it, pulling a small piece of black, writing chalk. Brett took the chalk from the teen’s fingers, rolling it around in his palm. “I know just what I’ll write... A biography. My life is interesting enough, huh?” He chuckled. Druid grinned, “Sounds great... What are you going to call it?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I’ll call it... ‘The Crimson’.” he murmured, casting a smile at Druid. The silverette grinned, chuckling a bit. “Sounds wonderful.” he murmured, leaning back against the wall. Brett smiled, adjusting the writing chalk in his fingers and wrote the first sentence:
“His hair was black as night. His eyes were a brown to match. I am Brett Michael Pierce, and I am a vampire.”

Description
Brett grabbed his elbow in his hand, holding his arm to his side. “L-look... I’m sorry I..” “It’s okay.” Druid interrupted, smiling. Brett blinked in surprise, then smiled. “I forgot you can read my thoughts...” he chuckled lightly, then walked up to the silverette. “Brett?” Druid whispered, and Brett could feel him poking around in his head. “Hmm?” he hummed in returned, offering a small grin at the boy. “Were you gonna uhm... Kiss me?” he asked quietly, tilting his head to the left curiously. Brett pursed his lips, then nodded slowly. “Y-yes... I wanted you to stay so bad, because...” he paused, looking down at the cold, stone floor of the mausoleum. He swallowed slowly, as the other vampire caught his chin in his fingers and lifted his head, flashing a cheeky smile. “Brett, I’m so scared...” he whispered, “I have to tell you something you won’t like.” Brett cocked an eyebrow, then nodded slowly. “O-okay.” Brett murmured, and Druid sharply tilted his face upward to stare into his eyes. “Brett... What would you say if I loved you?” he whispered, the boy’s face flushing light pink. “I...” Brett began, but glanced down. “Do you mean...” his voice dropped to a whisper, “Romantically?” Druid chuckled, almost sadly, and stepped away from the black haired boy. “No, but you’re disgusted with me now.” he murmured, “No matter... I’ll just pretend I never said a thing, and we’ll still be best friends.” he looked up at Brett nonchalantly, faking a smile, “Would you still be my friend, even If I... loved you?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. Brett pursed his lips, then slowly nodded. “Of course, Druid... You’re my best friend.” he murmured, smiling and lurching forward to embrace the boy, with happily obliged. “Now, we just need to see if Vladimir convinces the Conclave to let me stay...” Druid murmured into Brett’s shoulder, inhaling deeply. Brett laughed, and pushed away from Druid. “I know you have a crush on me, or whatever... But don’t smell me like that.” he chuckled, watching Druid look down sheepishly and grin, his face crimson. Brett smiled, then glanced down at the floor of the mausoleum. “Druid, what are these news paper clippings?” he asked, bending down and picking one up. “Oh, just some things... I’ve been wanted for murder for awhile now.” Druid chuckled, shrugging. Brett snorted, rolling his eyes slightly. “And this notebook?” he asked, picking it up and flipping it open. Druid blinked, then grabbed at it in horror. “N-no! Wait, those are my poems!” he yelled, but Brett held the book away, reading one, silently moving his lips. “These are good... What else do you write?” Brett asked, flipping through the pages until the poems ended. “One-shots...” the silver haired teen murmured, glancing down in embarrassment. Brett smiled, sitting down on the cool, stone floor and glancing up at Druid. “Do you have a pen or something?” he asked, glancing around the floor. Druid crouched down beside him, looking at the blank page. “Actually... I have something for you.” Druid began hesitantly, then crawled over and pulled up a stone. He pulled out a small, composition book. It wasn’t one like you could buy for ninety-nine cents at a store, but it was leather bound, with slick, pale parchment. A leather strap and small silver buckle held it together. Druid handed the book to Brett with a small smile. “I thought you would like this, since I filled up your last notebook with my drawings...” he cooed, offering an apologetic grin. “Wow... How long have you had this?” Brett asked in awe, admiring the beautiful book. “Around five... Ten years...” he murmured, shrugging. “It was too nice to soil, so I just kept it. I want you to have it.” Druid smiled, then clicked open the buckle. A small pouch was pressed tightly in the pages. Druid removed the pouch and opened it, pulling a small piece of black, writing chalk. Brett took the chalk from the teen’s fingers, rolling it around in his palm. “I know just what I’ll write... A biography. My life is interesting enough, huh?” He chuckled. Druid grinned, “Sounds great... What are you going to call it?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I’ll call it... ‘The Crimson’.” he murmured, casting a smile at Druid. The silverette grinned, chuckling a bit. “Sounds wonderful.” he murmured, leaning back against the wall. Brett smiled, adjusting the writing chalk in his fingers and wrote the first sentence:
“His hair was black as night. His eyes were a brown to match. I am Brett Michael Pierce, and I am a vampire.”