The Vampire's Donor

Her eyes brightened and she laughed softly, "I cannot believe my ears. You're saying you designed this place?! It's beyond incredible, and I'm not just saying that because you're my boss either." She leaned back against the countertop, once again opening her view to see more than just one part of the room.

For a moment she got embarrassed and her cheeks felt hot. "I don't mind shopping for myself, but I'm not a super picky eater which means something you have here would be fine." She couldn't convince herself to make eye contact, his flirtatious nature catching her off guard. "I didn't eat before I came, but I had coffee which is something." As much as hunger had begun to poke at her she didn't want to have their first day be full of her pitfalls, besides she could eat when she finally left if he let her leave. What if she spent the night? She would cook a real trial meal in that case she supposed. "But we don't have to make anything. I don't want to inconvenience you. I do have a sort of silly question, do you actually enjoy human food or is it just something you eat for the hell of it?"
 
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"Pssh, 'inconvenience' she says," the vampire snorted. "Like what was written on the advertisement, you are to be a cook?" He does not even know the full details of the advertisement! His friends were a bit secretive about it until this day where they just went up and called him that he has to interview a potential employee. If one of his friends were there, said friend would have a cracked skull and maybe a snapped spine.

"If I am correct, dear," he smiled, showing his teeth. "Coffee won't be enough to help you with your anemia. A balanced meal might be in order and maybe we could finally check on that skill of yours if you are up for the challenge."

He brought out pans and pots and whatever metal thingies that were in one of the cupboard before opening drawers and showing where the knives were. "I actually enjoy food," he stated, eyes sparkling. "No matter how exotic it is or from whatever species it came from, I would inhale the said thing as if nothing. Well, that is if it isn't poisonous to our kind. There was one time I was even fed Ambrosia, you know? Those nectar of the deities things? I don't even know why they like that? It tasted like a stick of celery and guava leaves combined then they blended in a a bucket of unwashed dog hair."

"Oh shi~ft," he started, eyes wide before red bloomed on his cheeks. "Err, sorry about that. I-I didn't... wasn't supposed... Sorry," he whispered the last statement. Really? A hundred-year old vampire looking like a child who got reprimanded for being noisy in class? Really, Camphor? No elegance at all? Nothing? Nada? Ugh! Let him burn in those wells where they trap vampires as a way to execute them
 
"There's nothing to be sorry for. You talk in a friendly manner, and it's quite enjoyable," she shrugged as she made her way to the refrigerator, looking in both the fridge and freezer to see what she had to work with. "I believe it's iron heavy meals that would help me, but before eating, maybe even before cooking, I would need to take my Vitamin D pill. Vitamin D helps the body absorb the iron which is why I take both pills." She crouched, pulling out drawers and looking inside, but there was nothing of interest. The same goes for the freezer. This just meant to her that anything in the fridge or freezer would have to be an addition to whatever she cooked instead of providing a base for the dish.

Claire walked back towards the cabinets that Camphor had been opening earlier to show her that he had some food in the house. She started with the lower cabinets figuring they would hold things like soups, noodles, crackers, and sauces because those things could provide a base for a meal. Bowtie noodles were shoved a bit further back in the cabinet, but when she checked the date on the box they still appeared to be good. The cabinets closer to the pots and pans held his oils which is where she found the olive oil she needed. "How do you feel about pasta salad? I'm not sure it has much iron in it or that it's technically a meal, but it is really yummy," she turned to smile at the man, "Usually, I see it used as a side dish, but that hasn't ever stopped me from eating it as if it was the main dish."
 
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Tilting his head, Camphor looked like one of those owls being curious of a moving object. “A what-now?” he asked. “Pasta salad? Like you toss in macaroni with the celery and tomatoes?”

In his one-hundred years of living on this planet, this is the first time he had heard of such an… exquisite mix. Well, there were food he never asked the name of that might have been what the lady called Pasta Salad. Maybe it one of them. Or was it spaghetti pasta mixed with that strong smelling herb? Pasto? Presto? Whatever that was.

“Surprise me, dear heart,” Camphor laughed. “Whatever that salad is, it’s going to be amazing.” He again started laughing when the words ‘main dish’ and ‘side dish’ came up. “Truth be said, I have no idea what dishes are for as long as I could eat them. I mean, I have tried those course meals but never understood its purpose. Why not just give everything than to wait for one dish to be eaten?”

He moved over for Claire to have most of the space. “I could help if you want. Just tell me what to do,” he smiled. Really… was his isolation this long for him to chat up to anything now? Or it’s her aura… well, he will soon find out in the next couple of weeks.
 
"Could you get the mozzarella, bell peppers, and tomatoes out of the fridge for me? Oh, and if you have a cutting board that would be great too. I swear I'll learn the layout of the cabinets soon, but today is just not the day," she laughed softly.

She took one of the pots on the counter that Camphor had brought out from the cabinets and filled it with water before setting it on the stove to boil. Noodles didn't take terribly long to cook, nor did water take too long to boil. She figured getting a head start on the cutting would be wise that way everything would be ready as soon as the noodles were done, so she could mix everything right away. As soon as the noodles were poured in the boiling water, she washed her hands so that they would be clean when she cut the things Camphor was asked to bring her.

"I don't think I ever caught what you wanted to be called. With you being so kind and almost friend-like it feels weird to call you sir, but I'll call you anything--within reason--that you ask me to. It's my job as an employee," she smiled softly.
 
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"I don't think I ever caught what you wanted to be called. With you being so kind and almost friend-like it feels weird to call you sir, but I'll call you anything--within reason--that you ask me to. It's my job as an employee.”

This had Camphor smirking at her mischievously as he walked to the fridge and grabbed what was asked. He could have just snapped his fingers and let the ingredients head to where Claire was but that was not normal. In his opinion, it would be better to just show normal routine to the new comer than to show off his abilities as if he was better than anyone else.

Reading through the labels, he was surprised to find three types of cheese in the fridge along with a few sauces he never knew the labels to. He tossed the bell peppers towards the female and moved with the other ingredients.

“Call me ‘Love’,” he chuckled. “Or ‘Mine’.” Blinking, he cringed at his second statement. “Alright, never mind. Just call me by my name. No need for those titles.” And because he does not want to remember what he did the first few years of him being a vampire.
 
"Hmm...." she pulled a knife from a drawer below the countertop and found herself a cutting board as Camphor continued to search for the ingredients. "We can work on pet names if our relationship becomes less professional," she joked, pulling her hair back before beginning to slice the bell peppers, "What about Cam? It's short and if I'm ever in danger or need you it's faster to say. I feel like calling you Love would encourage this flirting."

Claire was teasing. If she was honest with herself she enjoyed his rendering nature as well as his flirtatious comments. However, she truly didn't know how to act around the man. If she flirted back what would happen, and if she shut him down completely she felt like this job would become far more boring. Taking a break from the peppers to stir the noodles, she stole a glance over at Camphor, "Not that it's a bad thing, just new." She amended her statement hoping it would seem less 'no way' and more 'I'm not just gonna fall for you like that'. Subtlety was not one of her strongest attributes, but with work, she believed she could get better at sneaking flirtatious undertones into statements as Camphor did.
 
The tomatoes would have rolled out of his arms if her statement was processed a bit faster. He had stacked the ingredients on the table before the statement actually connected to his brain. "Holy~mpphh~!" he laughed.

"Oh, no," he stated, once he was done laughing. "Are... are you seriously taking up my offer on that?" he smirked. Cleaning the tomatoes under the faucet, he turned one as if inspecting a gem of interest. "Because if ever, I might actually pursue such a relationship," he smiled, fangs poking out from under his lips. He does not even know if he was flirting or being serious now. A relationship? To date someone? What was the feeling of falling in love once again?

Another shake of his head before taking in to a more innocent and friendly vibe. "How do you slice these up? Little cubes? Cut them in four? Remove the seeds?" he asked. "As you can see, I really have no idea how to prepare something that elaborate." Lies. He took up culinary courses but never practiced them for himself. It was only convenient when having guests over from outside his circle of friends and he wanted to impress potential costumers.
 
"You know the cutting styles so you can't act so clueless around me," she glanced up at him, "I'll cube them. Please stir the noodles, it keeps them from getting stuck to the bottom of the pot as you cook." She used the knife to slide the bell peppers into their own corner of the cutting board before starting on the cheese. Since the tomatoes would leave juice on the cutting board those would go last. Not that it wasn't all going to end up mixed together in the end, but the flavors were crisper if you didn't muddle them too much during preparation.

"As for your offer, we can return to that later if it remains on the table," she cubed the cheese, the knife gently grazing the cutting board as she worked carefully, "I'm sure there's some part of it that's just intrigued by the new feeling of having a woman around the house, as well as the mystery provided by engaging in romantic actions with someone who is essentially a stranger to you." That's how it usually went for her. Guys were interested, and then once things seemed more stable they would leave. For a while, she thought that she was the problem, but she figured out that the real problem was the guys. Everyone wanted something fun, secret, but nobody wanted anything serious anymore and that was frustrating. "Maybe when we get my iron to where it's supposed to be we can talk more about this," she laughed softly.
 
Another chuckle escaped his lips before he got to the stove and did what was asked of him. "I am serious," he started. "I really don't know how to do this," he mockingly whined, stomping his foot a little. He stirred through the pasta and used a fork to pick up a few strands, pinching a bit of the tip to see if it was ready to be poured out. It needs more time. He unconsciously took the oil bottle and placed a few drops unto the boiling water. It usually helps the noodle not to clump with each other.

"Well, you are very true on that," he agreed. "Know each other first before venturing inside each others pants," he stated this in a way that one does not even know if he was joking or not. "And speaking about your condition, I know you have been to a doctor more than once and what I will be doing is just redundant but I do want to listen to myself what you should be eating and doing to finally have you in good health... or close to it... I don't really know."

He grabbed a strainer and placed it near the sink before tilting his head. "Pasta's cooked... I think," he smiled.
 
"You poured oil in it, good luck convincing me you're helpless in the kitchen," she moved on from the cheese the tomatoes, dicing them. "Go ahead and strain it and if you could pour the noodles into a big bowl that'll help mix everything better. I'll let you in on a secret since you claim to not have ever had this dish," she smiled over at him, "I'm using Bowtie noodles, but Rotiniti id ideal. Since the noodle is twisted it provides more texture for the other ingredients to catch on, and it's a lot easier to stab your fork into a noodle with some texture."

As she finished the tomatoes she moved them to their own corner of the board and set the knife down in the middle. "I'll tell you all about my condition and how to care for it; just so you know, it's actually been improving at increasing rates which means soon the problem may be solved entirely. I need to take my supplements every day. I tend to take them at night since it's pretty much guaranteed I will have a meal in me by then. I can eat pretty much anything, but foods with high iron content can also supplement me. Food tends to be less reliable and successful than the pills which is why, instead of changing my diet, I just continued to take the supplements. If there are any more specific questions you have I can take you to a doctor's appointment with me or I can email my doctor and ask him everything you want to know."
 
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Grabbing through a cloth and pouring the pot's content out, she waved his hand over his face as the steam came up in clouds. "But... I really am," he whined. "What the heck is a Bowtie noodle? These shapes?" he asked. He ran the pasta under cold water as he walked to one of the drawers to grab a large enough bowl for the ingredients. As he was bringing out the bowl, his eyes snapped at the female. "Wait... do I~!" The male flew towards the sink and turned the faucet off before rubbing his temples and grumbling about something under his breath about asking first before doing anything.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he stated, draining the cooled pasta and frowning. "I should have asked if we had to run these in cold water."

Wiping his hands after placing the pasts on the bowl, he once again tilted his head. "Well, That would be nice... Ask the doctor what else you need before we actually drag you my friend's office. It would be a much less hassle." He stepped back then, letting the girl do whatever she needed to do with the pasta.
 
"Don't be sorry, it's better cold honestly. You're supposed to chill it, but we can skip that step now," she laughed softly and slid all the ingredients into the bowl followed by oil. She picked up the bowl and tossed/shook the ingredients together so that they would blend in their own way. "I have to be honest," she continued to shake the bowl, "I'm quite nervous about these friends of yours. After all, wasn't their ad a trap for people like me? I wonder if they'll be upset with you for not just taking what you wanted and leaving me in the depleted state."

She gently grabbed a noodle and popped it into her mouth, perfect. Her hunger hadn't hit her until just then, and if she was at home she would've dipped into the bowl for seconds. "Since I'll grocery shop I suppose you don't need to know any of these things. It's ready though! You can serve yourself first," she offered him a gentle smile as she stepped aside. If he went first she figured that she would be able to get his reaction faster which is what she really wanted. Sure, to her it could be great, but to someone who had never had the dish, it could be mediocre. In that case, she would most likely try to make him something her would actually enjoy because she didn't want to be the only one at the tab;e who liked what was being served, plus it was her job to feed him.
 
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Grabbing a pair of plates and spoons and forks, the vampire placed the items on the table before actually taking a serving. He stabbed one of the pasta and took in the flavors. He blinked and smiled, taking another before chuckling. "My taste seem a bit off then," he started. "It needs more flavor... salt in particular but then again, I think this is what it is supposed to taste like."

He waited for the female to take her share before he forked through his plate, not realizing he enjoyed the taste and the company. "I'll be accompanying you to the stores from time to time if you will have me," he smiled.

"Ah, and don't worry about my friends, dear. They might be assholes when it comes to me but usually they are civilized enough to have a decent conversation," he stated. His mischievous smile once again broke through his features as he stared at the beauty across of him. "Just be prepared for cussing and flirting."
 
"I figured that you couldn't be the only one so flirtatious," she took a serving and sat down with her plate, "After all, people tend to attract those with similar qualities. As for the flavor of the dish, you can add salt or anything that you think would improve the taste. That's really the pro about this dish, it can taste how you want it to based on the ingredients you put in."

Claire forked a couple of noodles and popped them into her mouth. The taste was perfect for her, but that's because she had made it in a way she liked. As time went on, she would be able to learn more about the kind of flavors Camphor preferred and cook better for him as opposed to cooking for herself. "You're free to join me anytime. It'll let me see what kind of foods you like," she smiled over at him before taking another fork full of pasta.
 
"Oi, oi," he started, eyes wide in mock hurt. "I am deeply offended that you bunch me with them." He took another forkful of the salad and made a noise as if he was in heaven. He took his sweet time with the pasta, enjoying the zesty taste. He took another serving ans grinned at the female. "Seems like I am hungrier that expected. "And what I like? For as long as the dish is meat, I am fine with it."

Finishing through the second serving, he got up and placed his plate on the sink before leaning on them and crossing his arms. The tour was about to start and he does not really know where. Living room where they came from? The kitchen? Well, since they were already in the kitchen, might as well show her the first floor and the one above before letting her go and get her back home.
 
"I mean, you do call them your friends. It's only by habit that I bunch you together with those you call your friends," she took the last few fork fulls of food from her plate and made her way to the sink. Before setting her plate in the sink she rinsed both it and the silverware off so that it would be easier to clean when the time came.

"I will admit, I have a feeling that you are a lot warmer of a person than your friends are, but I will treat them as if they are my bosses as well. That way I don't make a bad first impression," she smiled up at him.
 
"Warmer? As you mean that I am a lot more sociable?" he asked. The smile on his lips said it all: That is not true. "I am actually the coldest among them," he admitted. "Not only the coldest but also the most violent." He watched the lady's hands, frowning when the wound he created got covered in water. He should have told her to leave the plates and let him clean it up but her automatic movements gave him no time to comment on anything.

"Another advice, dear. Don't treat them anything except as acquaintances or friends. They would be a bit cold to you if you started calling them 'sir' and 'madame'." He shook his head and went to the exit, leaning on the frame and smiling back at the beauty. "Be yourself, Claire. Those assholes could smell when you are nervous around them." He gestured then. "Tour?"
 
She nodded excitedly and jogged over to him. "Noted. I guess there's more than just the fact that I'm not here to cook primarily to get used to," she chewed on the inside of her cheek and let her gaze fall to the floor.

It was easier to be formal, to be above the expected etiquette wise because her old job had put in that position. She felt like treating them as friends could come off as an insult as opposed to just being normal. "How many stories do you have, and why have so many if you live alone?" Her gaze drifted to his eyes as she asked, "If the last part is out of line, you don't have to answer."
 
"Including the basement, I think this house is four stories," he mused. "I'd rather have it demolished and have a one-story type of house but there's too much... magic in it I can't even destroy one room," he made a funny face before leading the beauty out of the kitchen and into the dining area. "It's better that I do not have companions for they are most of the time irritating. Ah," his smile turned impish then. "Maybe you can help me forget about those times when you actually come live with me."

Clearing his throat, he made a grand gesture to show her the room they entered. Both hand behind him while the other was on his chest, Camphor closed his eyes. "Here ye, here ye. Where are we now is where the guests dine and mingle about," he started in a mock formal tone. "Gazing out and you will the the gardens tended by your truly."

They walked through the window-filled dining area, Camphor walking near the wall to make sure he was not hit directly by the sunlight. "If you are asking why a blood-sucker like me have that kind of architecture... well, the gardens at night take up a beautiful scene. I could not just let it go," he explained. "Daytime, yes, it would be hell for us but then again, 'It takes a little rain to appreciate the sunlight,' or so they say," he laughed at both the irony and the wrong message.
 
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