Arlo James

See what it's like to be a vulture's lunch

He hadn't meant for that look of concern to be so clear on his features. Not really. Yet any and all ideas or scenarios (inappropriate or otherwise) that he had been content to picture himself and Abigail in when given the privacy of her house were all but shattered at that mention of her Father. Father's, as a rule, never really did seem to like him. Not that he blamed them he supposed. They all seemed to think he was spending time with their daughters for just one thing and really, back then, he had been. He'd denied it of course- made attempts to appear as if he was some vaguely upstanding citizen who didn't spend most nights drunk or high and yet the truth of it was the same. He was after what those girls could give him- that different sort of high. He'd never been harsh to any of them of course, unkindness simply wasn't in his nature, Arlo having remained friends in some capacity with almost all of them and yet still the point remained the same. Father's didn't like him. The vampire almost assured he still gave off that vibe of bad news he had as a human even if his personality had, more or less, changed rather dramatically since he'd become a vampire. He wasn't that person anymore and yet the idea of Abby having parents really had never occurred to him- as stupid as that was. Arlo querying after whether or not he was the sort of man to get upset about his daughter alone in her house with a vampire boy. The Panda eyeing him almost thoughtfully a moment before promptly declaring they just didn't have to tell him. Arlo hardly able to stop that snort of amusement that left him then at how....high-school this sounded. God, he'd been climbing out her bedroom window next and yet he supposed not telling her Father wasn't a totally bad option. Maybe it would just be better if he didn't know, at least for awhile, maybe when they were more serious and- oh. Arlo frowning slightly at how quickly his own thoughts had seemed to get away from him then. The man content to remind himself of those boundaries of friendship with the woman he'd only just found out was a woman a few hours ago. The girl's sudden assurance her father would like him met with an almost dubious look, his eyes rolling playfully then.

"I'm not totally sure about that Ab's. I mean, I'm sure he's a great guy, but dads are weird about me and I'm pretty sure it's not my playing guitar in your house he's going to be worrying about. I don't think most parents take well to their daughters having vampire friends but, I tell you what, when he comes back from Morocco or that other place then I'll make an effort to meet him. If he wants anyway."

He could just introduce himself as her friend right? Her vampire friend. Her vampire friend who wanted to be more than her friend. Maybe he'd start with the first one and work his way up. For all Abigail's willing acceptance off him he was hardly foolish enough to believe other people were so welcoming. Vampires, he was sure, perhaps the most judged of any of those supernatural beings and largely the most feared. It was probably the blood thing. Arlo left to contemplate that for several moments longer before that query on just who Mi was seemed to draw his attention. The young man hurriedly working to assure her that Mi was no one, at least no one important. The idea that Abby might think she was suddenly seeming, well, critical that she didn't believe, his words near a jumble as he made some effort to get them out. Arlo recounting that fateful night they had met and Mi had managed to spill dinner all over herself. His Little Bear seeming to seize onto that mention of the soup, his hands still resting on her waist as her own came to rest on his chest. Arlo suddenly more aware of them then he'd ever been of hands before.

"I mean I didn't throw it at her or anything, it was an accident. I don't know why she didn't believe me, she just didn't. I showed her my teeth and everything and she congratulated me on finding a talented dentist She's a doctor, I think she just....doesn't believe things easily. So I stabbed myself with a knife in front of her and let her watch it heal. Realistically it wasn't the best plan I've ever had. She believed me after that though- and I'm fine."

He held up that hand then as if to prove it. Not even so much as a mark left against that pale flesh from the butcher's knife he'd used to slice it open, his lip quirking slightly to the side in that lopsided grin. Abigail seeming thoughtful somehow then as if she couldn't quite seem to decide what she thought of that situation. Arlo mistaking that dislike of Mi in that moment for some concern of that admittance that he...might have stabbed himself to prove a point. Maybe he wouldn't admit to that next time. His ow features shifting slightly then at that...concern that tugged at him all the same. That memory of how Mi had looked at him that night still so clear within his mind. That fear in her eyes in those few moments in which that realisation of what he was seemed to dawn on her not something he was likely to forget. It was stupid, he supposed and yet a part of him simply needed to know, to make sure, that Abby didn't have any of that same fear- at least, he'd never smelled it on her and yet the idea of her being afraid of him- ever- was somehow...horrifying.

He could hardly help that simper that found his lips in the wake of her almost ridiculous answer that zombie ants were scarier. A part of the vampire wanting to simply believe that she truly was that brave and that maybe what he was didn't actually mater to her at all. After all- she'd be the first, other then maybe Sebastian or Malek, who wasn't bothered by him or afraid of him or angry at him. Even other vampires didn't want him around most of the time and yet too- she hadn't truly seen how scary he could be. Hell, he didn't want to see that again. What he was capable of doing, of being, not something he ever wanted to relive. Maybe it was better if she never knew that. Arlo willing to take that answer for now all the same. The woman announcing it would be better if he stuck to people in trees and not angry ladies with handbags. That admittance he had been eyeing those skaters momentarily seeing that sheepish look find his features all the same as his shoulders shrugged in some attempt at innocence. Well....he'd only looked right? That sudden declaration she had been going to offer him her blood grasping every ounce of his attention then. Surprise suddenly adorning his features. Did she truly have any idea what she was offering him? Was she really willing to let him...taste it? It was easy then to slide his hand upward to grasp her wrist, turning it neatly over to expose that soft inside with those veins so close to the surface, his free hand lifted then to trace along them. That query of whether or not she realised just how he might go about getting that blood leaving his lips then. Abigail assuring him she understood. God he could feel her pulse, he could smell her blood, the scent and sound of it suddenly seeming to take up so much space in that room. Wasn't she afraid, even a little bit, of letting him bite her?

That 'no' she offered him was so resolute and so assured he found his gaze lifted readily to her own once more. Arlo almost considering the idea of trying it, almost, before those soft words left her lips then. Her Arlo? Was it ridiculous that he liked the sound of that? The woman so sure he wouldn't bring her any harm. A part of him desperately unwilling to break that trust she had in him. Abby the first to truly trust him in, well, years. His words entirely soft then and yet- he meant every one of them.

"No, I wouldn't hurt you. I promise. Not ever."

That smile found his lips once more and yet that curiosity lingered still, Arlo allowing his hand to slide up her hand a little more to gently take a single one of her fingers, the vampire noting for that first time how little her hands seemed in comparison to her own and yet he supposed women always did have smaller hands- he should hardly be surprised. His words carefully chosen then.

"I have a....strange venom, I can't bite without injecting it, at least not yet- Sebastian, The Chocolate Man, assures me it's possible but I don't know how yet and if I bite you I might....knock you out. I just want to try something though. It won't hurt just don't...flinch or anything, yeah?"

It was easy then to let his lips part, Arlo lifting just her fingertip to one of those pointed top fangs, that tip desperately sharp and all too easily piercing that delicate skin- that single drop of blood welling to the surface then. He could smell it well before he tasted it, the tip of her finger brushed against his lips and tongue to sweep the blood from it. Arlo closing that wound in near the same moment as he tasted that blood. Her hand immediately returned to her as if he hardly trusted himself to hold onto it too long before that clear look of contemplation seemed to find him, his tongue rolled about within his mouth to fully taste that blood. It was not like Sebastian's and yet it was....not like any Were blood he had ever had before either. There was something almost...sweet to it. The taste undeniably appealing to him.

"Huh."

This, he realised, was perhaps not the most forthcoming response to afford someone whom had just gifted him their blood. That surprise still clear on his features as he leaned back on that couch. How...odd. He'd never really liked Were-blood before and yet that.....that he would drink. A sudden grin touching his features.

"I think you sell yourself a little short, babe. I've never had anything that tasted quite like that before. I have no idea how to word this properly so I'm just going to say that you have nice blood."

That was a compliment, right? He meant it as one. Was that a weird thing to say?