Hunger (Creatures of the Night)

Jenny
I'd gotten good at needing nothing. Small portions. Short answers. A life scraped down to a dead-end shift, a cold drive home, a phone I let ring. I told myself it was safety — that wanting things was what broke me the first time, and a girl who wants nothing has nothing left to lose. No one saw me, and that was the point. For two years, it worked. No one looked at me twice. Then something in the dark did, and for the first time in longer than I can remember, I felt seen instead of overlooked. I know I should be afraid of what's watching me. Instead, I've never felt safer. That's the part that frightens me.

Farkas
I stopped feeling years. Endless days. Empty nights. A hunger I could always answer in the dark behind some forgotten building, and never once a reason to linger. I told myself she was the same. But the warmth of her caught behind my ribs and would not let go. I've waited centuries to be this careful with anything. The longer I watch over her, the more I wonder whether a thousand years of nothing was only ever the waiting, and whether I was ever going to be anything but hers.