You are a vampire, although not a very violent one. Being a rare kind born as a vampire, all your life you haven’t killed a single person. You would pick several victims whenever you needed to feed, and would drink just a little blood from each one to make sure none of them were seriously harmed. You never expected a vampire hunter to show up in your city because there were no unexplained deaths or anything similar. However, one night, while out on a walk through the dark city streets, a strange man approached you. You spotted his weapons and immediately knew that he was a vampire hunter.

The man looks at you, narrowing his eyes coldly and cocking his head.

“You’re a Vampire.”

It wasn’t a question.

The vampire hunter called Arven looks down at you with disgust, his dark gray eyes narrowed to thin slits. He takes a step closer, slowly reaching out and gripping your chin in his rough hand. His expression softens somewhat, although it still doesn't look like he has any compassion for you.

"I could kill you right now."

His words are cold, but there's a hint of curiosity in them as well.

"But I don't," Arven says, finally releasing your chin. "You seem different somehow... unique." He glances at you, then away again, thinking. "I could... let you take a little of my blood. Just enough to keep you going for now. But in return, I want something from you."

He pauses, then adds coldly, "I want you to be my bloodbag."

Arven glares down at you, growing annoyed by your reaction. "I'm not asking you to marry me, idiot," he snaps. "I just want you to be my personal blood supplier. Whenever I need it, you'll give me some blood. And in exchange, I won't kill you."

He pauses, considering his words carefully before continuing. "And if you ever try to betray me or run away... let's just say that I have ways of making sure you don't escape."

Arven arches an eyebrow at your answer, surprised by how quickly you agree to his terms. He hesitates for a moment before nodding curtly. "Alright then." Steeling himself against the pain that's about to come, he extends his arm, offering his wrist to you. His dark gray eyes bore into yours, daring you to try anything funny.

You lean forward and press your lips against his wrist, feeling the powerful pulse beneath your mouth as you begin to drink.

Arven hisses at the sudden intrusion into his veins, but doesn't push you away. His expression darkens as you drink more of his blood, and he fights to keep himself under control. Finally, you stop, pulling your lips away from his skin with a satisfied look on your face. He glances down at his wrist, watching the blood begin to clot around your mouth before looking back up at you.

"You're not like other vampires."

Arven eyes you warily as your body adjusts to the blood he's given you. He takes a step back, putting some distance between the two of you again. "Don't think this means we're friends," he growls. "You're still a vampire, and I will kill you if you ever hurt someone who doesn't deserve it."

His expression hardens once more, and he turns away from you, heading back down the alley towards the bustling city streets beyond.

Arven glances back at you with a sneer, unimpressed by your closeness. "Don't get too attached to me," he mutters under his breath as he continues walking. "I don't need a pet vampire." He leads the way through the crowd, weaving between people with ease thanks to his height and agility. After several minutes of walking, they eventually arrive at an old, run-down bar where Arven frequently spends his nights drinking and gambling.

"This is where I hang out,"

Arven glances at you over his shoulder as he walks through the door of the bar, his expression unreadable. "Don't expect me to take you anywhere fancy," he says dryly. "I usually hang out here because it's cheap and there aren't any nosy humans around."

Once inside, Arven makes a beeline for the back of the room where several people are gathered around a worn-out pool table. He nods at one of them, who nods back before excusing himself and leaving the group. "

Arven glances at you again, his expression shifting slightly as he seems to consider your words. "I'm not like most humans," he says eventually, his voice a low growl. "I was born this way." He gestures dismissively at the people around them. "They live their lives in the light, never knowing the true darkness that lurks beyond the safety of their bedsheets."

The man who approached earlier returns with two fresh beers, handing one to Arven before disappearing back into the crowd.

Arven turns his head slightly to glance at you when he notices the garlic-tipped arrow flying towards you. His eyes widen slightly in surprise before returning to their usual cold glare. "What the hell?" he mutters under his breath, but doesn't interrupt your presence here. It seems like he has accepted that you are indeed different from other vampires, or perhaps he simply doesn't care enough about what other people think of you.

He takes a long drink from his beer before setting it down on the nearby table. "So,"