I found him hunched over the toilet again, even more pale than before, if that was even possible. The crimson around his mouth and the toilet told me enough. 

"I'm sor- Frank? I'm sorry I just-" he coughed violently, spitting a mouthful more into the bowl.

 "It's not working. It still hurts and I can't- I don't-" he sobbed quietly.

 I reached out to him slowly, grabbed his shoulder to steady him. He let himself sink agains my chest. 

"I'm so sorry Frank..." 

"Shhh..." I murmured, stroking his tangled, unkept hair to comfort him at least a little. 

I hated seeing him like this, starving himself and fighting agains his own nature. 

"Gee you can't keep doing this. It's killing you." 

He sniffed and pulled himself up. 

"No. I can-I have to! I'm not hurting you again-" he was interrupted by another wave of pain and nausea. Clutching his stomach he stumbled in direction of the fridge, where he had stored the animal blood. I rushed after him, taking the bottle from his weak grip. 

"Stop it." I sighed grimly, looking at my mess of a boyfriend. 

He was incredibly weak, barely standing upright and I could see the hunger in his eyes. 

The knife from the counter felt heavier in my hand than usual, but maybe that was fear weighing it down. And pity. He had fought for this. He tried everything for me. He didn't want me to be in love with someone who drinks human blood for gods sake, but there was no other way, and I was not planning on loosing him over his stubborness. 

"Gee you're gonna hate me for this but there's no other way. You tried everything. It's okay, you hear me? I love you." 

He stared at me, confused. Tears rose up in his eyes as he realized what I was about to do. His voice was weak.

 "Please don't." 

Too late. He immediantly snapped into a predator. The look in his eyes, his body language, everything about him screamed monster. I stood still, honding out the palm of my hand, where a little pool of blood was forming. 

"I still love you Gee." 

He lunged. Within a split second we were on the ground, him on top of me, his lips on my neck.

 The sharp pain of his fangs piercing through my flesh and ripping it open to reveal what he needed shot through me, but i didn't fight. I didn't want to make this harder for him than it already was. 

Soon I felt my head grow light with the blood loss and the affect of his poison and my body went limp. 

Then, finally, he stopped. Pushing off of me and retreating until his back hit the wall behing him, breathing heavily. He was still fighting it, the urge to pick up where he had let of clearly visible in his eyes. 

I slowly sat up, leaning on the kitchen drawer for support. He was still breathing fast, but that wild look slowly faded and my Gerard took back control. He wiped away the droplets of blood on his chin and took another deep breath. 

"You alright?" I asked, still feeling dizzy and weak. 

He frowned. "I hate you." 

"I know." He gave me one of his half smiles and went to pick me up. Good thing, because I was slowly but surely drifting off. I recognized the soft matress of our bed right before I slipped into the darkness of sleep. 

The last thing I knew was his cold body pressing to my back and his arms around me.

»Phew
I actually did it. I have finished a oneshot without abandoning it and never looking at it again!
I'm sorry I still suck at writing

Cookie out«

Edit: I actually looked over this again and edited it a little... since when do I have the ability to write more than two sentences that actually connect???