Sweet But Psycho

Phoebe was always a weird kid and always had trouble making (or keeping) friends, even during high school. At age five she began talking to others no one believed existed except her, by age ten she was obsessed with ghosts and the supernatural; mostly vampires. Phoebe's parents started to worry eventually, but she soon learned not to talk to people about certain things. Once she realized the strange occurrences happening around her wasn't happening to everyone else Phoebe became a lone wolf, or at least she kept her mouth shut when it came to anything paranormal. Ever since she was a child Phoebe knew something about her, perhaps her energy, attracted all types of characters to come up to her randomly. Half of them are human, but more often than not - monsters. She's faced creatures of all kinds since she was little. The only thing that scares Phoebe, other than heights or bugs, is the fate of humanity. Her best friend Gregory couldn't even scare her when they first met.

Demons, she can handle.

Reanimated corpses, she could slay 24/7.

A friggin' two-headed land shark, she would kick it's ass with one arm tied behind her back.


This thing was hideous, awful. It could take up half of her entire closet! Which wasn't much to begin with.

It being the dress her grandmother found in the attic earlier that morning and basically forced her to shove it on, demanding she see if it fit. The dress took some time and sucking in to get it over her chest, but once that part was over with Phoebe found it easier to shimmy the fabric of the skirt down the rest of the way. It wasn't all bad, she supposed, looking over her reflection in the mirror.

Although it definitely wasn't her style. For one the dress was a cream white, whereas most of her closet was black. Black, purple, red, blue. The top was tight-fitting and cut in a 50's halter. While the skirt hugged her hips a little too much and had her thighs squishing together it also had a second layer over it, lightweight and puffy. A layer of frilly tulle in pastel pink or whatever pink it was, some kind of very faint pink.

Phoebe scowled and the girl in the mirror copied her, thick slightly-arched eyebrows pinching closer over hooded gray green eyes with lips that looked like the edges of rose petals as they thinned out. "Why did it have to be pink?"

"Why did it have to have polka dots too?"

She was supposed to be alone.

Her grandmother was already in a deep sleep at this hour of night, across the hall with her bedroom door shut as always. Phoebe's bedroom was spacious, but cluttered with modern furniture and piles of books. Clothes were scattered on the floor and her bed itself was a messy tangle of starry-night themed covers, the speaker on her nightstand playing a Hey Violet song.

"You! You were supposed to be here two hours ago. I was about to rip this monstrosity off of me and call it a night."

That voice was no stranger though. No stranger than the way her stomach flopped at the sound of it.

'I see you watching me,

eyes on your target.

mix drinks and smoke rings, it's already started.

it won't be too long before me and you

are doing what lovers do.'

Gregory gave her a toothy smile, never failing to flash his fangs at her every time he did.

She was sure at this point he kept doing it to get under her skin. He knew he couldn't scare her, but he did know the other kind of reaction he got out of her whenever she got a glimpse of them. It was a dangerous temptation. In all the years he's known Phoebe not once has he attempted to touch her, although at first he too once considered her a possible meal to sneak.

The last time he had human blood was about a week ago though.

Of course when they first met she was just a little girl, a week away from turning eleven.

Now she was seventeen and becoming more beautiful every day. He was eighteen and hasn't changed in centuries.

'Clothes on the floor,

we exploring our bodies,

getting you off is my new favorite hobby.

Lipstick on your neck brands like a tattoo,

'cause that's just how lovers do.'

Gregory chuckled as he gave the dress another once over, "By all means go ahead. I won't look if you don't want me to. Is that a bow or a blimp?" He almost reached out to touch it, but caught the sudden movement of her hand out the corner of his eye and grabbed her fingers instead of the silky fabric of the large bow sitting on her shoulder. The warmth of her hand sent his head spinning and a growl escaped his lips before he could stop it.

She didn't flinch, staring back steadily as she gripped his fingers before he was able to pull away. "I never realized how cold you were before. Are you always this cold?" On the outside Phoebe was calm as could be, but it felt as if her heart was trying to escape her chest. She worried if he was able to hear it beating faster.

"Not always. I'm actually quite warm once I've fed."

He ripped his hand out of hers like ripping open the fragile seal of an envelop, so fast Phoebe staggered on her feet before she caught her balance. Gregory almost forgot how quick she had become, how agile she trained herself to be. For a few more beats, the beating of her human heart, they stood across from each other.

Observing one another.

Gregory fought hard to keep the beast from unleashing itself, the vampire side of him that wanted to strike Phoebe down and tear open her pretty throat.

She fought against the urge to touch him again, a little hurt by the rejection.

Her face was sure to give her away. She could feel her jaw had dropped open and snapped it shut so fast her teeth bit into her tongue. An unintended whimper slipped from her lips and as a blush started to creep up into her cheeks she spun away from him, running into her closet.

Which she had been right about.

The stupid dress took up half of it's space, what little there was.

'Ooh, love is just another four letter word.

But that never stopped nobody,

ooh, either way we lose.

Just like lovers, just like lovers do.'

Hey Violet, Like Lovers Do