The way that Vera would flip him off as he went to work and she went to bed were very going to be missed. The way she would hand him a cup of her own blood, with a smile on her face all the while, was definitely going to be something he would want to have back after a week of getting it from the BloodBucks down the street. The way that she would feel as she slipped by his side, warming him when she, too, wanted the same comfort he wanted from her—that was going to be missed, too.

The piles of blood that were stacked in a freezer she had asked him to install ("It'll be easier to store the blood for you if we kept a larger one downstairs.") were there, being used in smaller portions and moved around to keep from "going bad" since there would never be a day where he would get a fresh cup of her blood anymore.

The only other thing left, other than her blood and the memories that were not fading fast enough, was a letter written by her for him. One that told him about how much she rather enjoyed being with him, but also about how she knew her death would be soon.

"I wonder what it would be like," he read aloud for the millionth time to himself as he sat alone in a dark room, "if our circumstances had been different. If this disease hadn't gone around."

Her writing would space here and continue on, but he wouldn't be able to read it anymore. It was all too sad, reading her goodbyes and her apologies for what she had failed to do.

It was even crumpled, this letter of hers, because when he hadn't found her and searched high and low only to find the piece of paper and whatever ashes of her that had not been blown away by the wind, he had gotten angry and made a paper ball out of it. He had even thought of ripping it and burning it, but had, after a good hour of angry cursing, decided it better not to.


"What are you doing?" Frankie asked as he found Vera climbing down a set of stairs that led to the rooftop he used for astronomy studying during his college days.

"Looking at the sun," she said simply, smiling and he had already known that. The smell of sun on her skin was strong. "They say there's going to be an eclipse later today, so I'm getting prepared for it. Will you watch, too?"

"No," Frankie had replied. "I've got other things to do and you won't be convincing me otherwise."



He had remembered climbing up the minute the radio reported it was safe for the vampires to step outside (if they were awake, of course) and she had been happy enough not to brag about him "giving in" and they had spent the entire time there, watching the mysterious phenomenon.

And now, as he stood near a window, a small one he only opened at night, he gripped the letter tightly before hiding it within his pants pocket and picking up the bag that had been filled with his clothes.

With the bag slung over his shoulder, a letter from a man named Bromely in his breast pocket, and a last glance of his now-empty home, Frankie stepped out.


note: can't believe it's over. but i had to end it somewhere and Vera's death had to be done. she couldn't go living as a vampire and I get the feeling Frankie knew this would happen, but that's left to interpretation, no? anyway, thanks to all the readers that enjoyed this story (especially CorkyConlon who reviewed every chapter without fail! seriously, you made writing this story really worth it!). it was fun writing, but i will bid you all adieu 'till next time.