Chapter Text
There was no doubt in your mind that your next-door neighbor is a vampire. Okay, maybe there were a few doubts in your mind- the rational side that begged you to listen to reason instead of the dozens of black and white horror movies that you had subjected yourself to over a particularly nasty case of the flu.
You weren’t an irrational person, in fact, you had won most rational for your high school superlatives three years in a row. You weren’t sure what that said about you and never cared to look too much into it, but figured it was a good enough sign that Kate Bishop was a vampire, a demon, or something of that realm. Damned her off-beat charm and kind words. She probably had centuries to master it, literal centuries.
She had dropped by a care package filled with soup ready to be rewarmed and a case of ginger ale that was meant to settle your already stormy stomach. The gesture was kind and made your stomach clench at the warmth that she radiated. But then there was the blood at the corner of her lip, something she didn’t’ seem to notice, but you did. It stood out like a beacon, the snow falling around you both creating a white sheet.
“Three minutes in the microwave,” She said sternly, tugging her jacket closer to her chest “Unless you want burnt soup.”
You had thanked her and welcomed a hug that smelled metallic and wet from the snow against her collar. Her skin was cold and her breath striking against the edge of your throat. There was a moment where it lingered, where the blatant disregard for her own safety struck you as odd but needed.
“I don’t want to get you sick,” You pulled back, voice rough.
“Me? Sick? Dude, I’ve got the immune system of a steel wall. Don’t worry about me. Just feel better, alright? Don’t hesitate if you need me.”
Kate squeezed your shoulder once more and retreated down the sidewalk that she had so kindly cleared of snow. You had lived many places in New York, but it hadn’t been until you migrated to the suburbs that surround the city that you had met such a diligent neighbor.
In fact, she had caught a box that nearly tumbled from your grasp six months earlier. She saved a whole stockpile of mugs that you’d collected on a cross-country road trip. You thanked her that night with a bottle of red wine garnished by a white bow and a card with your number. Texts had been exchanged here and there as you went about your daily lives.
It had taken a few more months for you to catch onto your next-door neighbor’s quirks. Kate worked an odd schedule, she would down coffee when the sun went down and would return before the streetlamps lost their golden color. You had never seen her during the day and scarcely during twilight and dawn.
She had shown up to Bobbi’s cookout the second the sun dipped behind the horizon with two cases of beer and an apologetic smile. The day had been winding down, but she eased herself into the lawn chair next to you, sunglasses over her ghostly grey stare. It was natural for her to join the conversation, to crack open a drink and pass it your way.
You had pulled yourself from sleep one evening and glanced through the slit in your curtain, a perfect view of Kate’s split-level home. A floodlight coated the fenced backyard in a pale white color that only stretched so far. Past the color came the subtle movement in the dark that made you squint.
Kate stumbled from the shadows, pressing her fingers against a gash on her temple, black blood dripping from her chin. Your breath caught in a gulp and her stare flashed towards the window you stood at. You had dropped down to your knees just in time, heartbeat heavy on the inside of your wrist.
There wasn’t much sleep to be had that night or the night after. It was probably what attributed to the sickness that ran through your body and took you out of commission for a week. A full seven days where all you could do was migrate from the sofa to the bedroom to the bathroom floor. It gave you a lot of downtime to watch too, something you didn’t’ do often- invasion of privacy and all.
But Kate’s habits were strange and trackable, and you had seen her push a girl up against the side of her garage and litter soft kisses down the side of her jaw, and her throat before whispering something in her ear and pulling her into the house.
Okay- so maybe that one moved more than just curiosity. Your fingers had ghosted over the spot on your throat where her touch lingered days earlier. Jealousy was apparently not in your vocabulary either, because it was quickly denied in favor of another episode of Greys’ Anatomy.
You were finally starting to feel more like yourself by Sunday evening, the weather has warmed up and the only lingering side-effects from your bought of illness was a scratchy throat. And of course, the stupid idea that Kate Bishop, kind neighbor, was a vampire.
It had been a full six months and she had never decided to sink her teeth into your jugular thus far, so you made a split decision to leave it alone. You knew the general rules: no sunlight, no mirrors, not crucifixes, or wooden stakes. You would just fish out the blue-beaded rosary from your mother’s catholic phase.
You had mustered enough strength to gather up all the used tissues and empty cans. The breeze that blew through the night was oddly soft and warm, sticking around from the slight heatwave of the day. You enjoyed the way it felt against your skin, breathing it in as you rounded the side of your house with the trash bag.
“What happened to bed rest, Y/N?”
Kate’s voice startled you, sending the bag flying. She was leaning against the side of her car, shrouded in darkness, lurking like a black cat. Your heartbeat must have quickened to the point of deafening. The sun had gone down, and you were so wrapped up in your own discovery that you didn’t take it into account.
“Please,” your voice shook as you turned to face Kate, nothing but a few feet of grass separating you from her. “I am the picture of health.”
Her arms were crossed over her chest, a black coat cut off at her knees. Even in the darkness, she held some type of ethereal beauty that only became more defined as she pushed herself off the side of the car and took a few steps towards you, closing the distance.
“I wanted to ask you something,” she said, voice gravelly.
There was nothing intimidating about Kate Bishop. You had to diligently remind yourself of this. Sure, she had a few feet on you, and defined muscles, and drove a fancy black car, and could probably snap you like a twig but yeah, you were 15% sure you could outrun her. Unless she was, in fact, a vampire.
She laughed, a familiar sound “Don’t look so frightened, Pet. How was the soup?”
“The soup?” You let out a breath mixed with relief, “It was fantastic. Really good. Thank you.”
She smiled, her teeth glinting in the moonlight. You had never noticed them up-close before. Maybe it was the lingering illness or the aroused fear that flushed through your veins, but you could barely make out the tips of her canines. Kate took a step back, heading towards her own home. “Great, I’m glad you liked it. Happy you’re feeling better.”
You moved to pick up the trash bag, the plastic miraculously hadn’t torn. Your fingers were trembling. Maybe it was colder than you realized. You had to get it together and rationalize things- of course, Kate Bishop wasn’t a vampire.
They didn’t’ exist, and your overactive imagination had demonized someone who was just trying to be kind. She brought you soup and cold medicine for fucks sake.
“Oh, and Y/N,” Kate had stopped by the edge of her garage, the moonlight catching her features, flashing against eyes that were sure to flash a brilliant red against camera exposure. “Next time, if you’re going to watch, you might as well join.”
Your throat tightened, air getting caught “W-what?”
“You’re not subtle. I don’t bite.”
She gave you a small wave before vanishing into the house, leaving you in the small space between her fence and yours, trash bag in hand. Your heart was beating fast, mouth dry as your stare lingered, the floodlight flickering out, leaving you in darkness. You begged to differ.