"AH, WHAT A delightful time," Dracula spoke, dropping Arabella back to the sofa. "When we hardly knew each other and it was so easy to get rid of you,"

Arabella landed on the cushions with a thud and gasped for air, her hand caressing her neck softly. "Watch it, Count. You wouldn't want to break such a fine neck without drinking from it first," Arabella smirked, her voice raspy as she extended her neck out to him.

She felt him stiffen in his spot as he stared at her exposed collar. His long fingers danced across her burning skin as he brought his face closer to the crook of her neck so he could smell her. "You know I can't, Arabella,"

"That's right," Arabella smiled pridefully. "You can't. You tried and you almost died, didn't you?"

------

It was about the third or fourth time that Dracula and Arabella had 'bumped' into each other. Dracula's patience was wearing thin with the witch.

"Here we are again," Dracula greeted the girl who had 'accidentally' stumbled upon his castle in yet another foreign country that neither knew of.

"Here we are again," Arabella repeated, her grin as large as it was when they first met. "So how will we do this? Are you going to try and kill me immediately and run away again, or will you let this ride out for a while until you're that fed up of me that you're compelled to kill me?"

Dracula pretended to think for a moment, his fingers smoothing over his chin. He was already planning of moving the next day to Transylvania. "Let's go with the prior," Dracula evilly grinned, bearing his fangs. He grabbed Arabella's waist, pulling her towards his chest. Thankfully for him, Arabella's hair was pulled up in a loose bun and her dress revealed her neck, collars and upper chest.

Plunging his head down, Dracula's fangs pierced through Arabella's skin, sucking the thick blood from her veins. Before he could take too much that she would collapse, he roughly pulled away, chocking and gagging at the blood in his mouth, causing the thick crimson liquid to pour out from his lips. Arabella clamped her hand around the open wound on her neck, before glancing down at the convulsing Count at her feet. She hastily healed the wound, leaving behind a raised scar before helping Dracula to his feet.

She waved her hand, halting his vomiting yet her blood still stained his lips and chin. "That's never happened before?" Dracula declared as if he was questioning himself.

Arabella shrugged, securing her arms around his biceps to hold him up. "As I said, you can't hurt me, Dracula. Satan won't allow it."

------

"It is a shame, really," Dracula smiled, skimming his fingers up and down the length of her neck. "Yours was the sweetest I had ever tasted,"

Arabella's breath hitched in her throat. He had never been this intimate with her before now, and she couldn't t pinpoint when the change occurred. "Pardon?"

"Your blood. It was divine, bar the vomiting. I'll always remember the richness of your blood, Arabella," Dracula suavely spike, knowing he was making Arabella weak in the knees. "You must excuse me so I can go drink some blood that won't make me convulse. Goodnight."

And with that, Dracula glided away, up to Johnathan's room to finalise his transition back to his youth.

"Goodnight," Arabella whispered to the flickering candles and dusty furniture before stumbling off to a night of restless sleep.

——

It was the next night and Arabella was seated in the lounge area, looking over the fully drained, yet still conscious Johnathan Harker. Dracula walked in, his prescience unknown to Arabella until he planted his large hand on her shoulder.

Arabella jumped softly in her chair at the sudden contact, before turning to look at his hand. It was now blemish-free, not a wrinkle or age-spot insight. She twisted her neck to see the figure behind her, only to be meet with the young Dracula she was accustomed too.

His black slick-back hair was now fully grown and his posture was strong and straight, not a deep wrinkle on his face.

Arabella smirked at the sight, resulting in a toothy grin from her old friend.

A bat in the distance squeaked, waking Johnathan in the process.

"Johnny, there you are," Dracula mockingly spoke. "Thought we'd lost you."

"What am I doing here?" Johnathan groaned out the question.

"We found you downstairs, asleep on the floor," Arabella answered. "It looked like you were having a nightmare," she concluded, twirling her wine glass in her hand, watching the red liquid slosh around the glass.

"You do look rather pale," Dracula added, doing the same action with his glass of blood.

Johnathan furrowed his eyes at the Count. "You said you don't drink?"

"Wine," Dracula corrected, before clearing his throat. "Now, I need you to do something," he said, kneeling down to Johnathan and hauling him to his feet as if he were a rag doll. He fixed Johnathan into the seat at the table. "Now take this," Dracula forces a pen between Johnathan's fingers. "I need you to write three letters."

A baby cried in the distance, catching Johnathan's attention. "What was that?"

"That's nothing," Dracula quickly dismissed, hoping Johnathan would focus, but his plan failed.

"Sounded like a baby," Johnathan continued. Arabella glanced at the small buggy at the front of the doorway that led upstairs.

Dracula gently laughed. "No, no, no. There's no baby. Now, Johnny. Johnny. Concentrate. Three letters."

Johnathan whispered a comment that almost did not reach Arabella's ears but she managed to catch it. "No-one calls me Johnny," Arabella frowned. For some odd reason, she pitied the lawyer. He couldn't remember much anymore - not even the nickname that his fiance called him.

Dracula glanced up at Arabella briefly before grabbing a frame on the table. Behind the glass of the picture frame held a small grayscaled photo of a young woman. Arabella could only presume that the beautiful woman was Mina.

"Company for you while you work," Dracula placed the frame in front of Johnathan so he could see the photo.

"Who is she?"

Arabella frowned at this. She had never really witnessed the vampire-transitioning before, but she knew for certain that she was not a fan. "You don't recognise her, Johnny?" Arabella questioned.

"Why would I?"

"I took it from your room. It's Mina," Dracula answered, his sympathy mocking Johnathan. "Your fiance. "Mina Murray."

Johnathan stared in shock at the photo, before retching his throat at whatever small memories popped into his mind. "Why don't I recognise her face?" He sounded helpless, desperate.

"Well, you do look rather... drained," Dracula mocked empathy once again.

"You look young," Johnathan commented, finally seeing Dracula's face fully.

Dracula smiled as he gently grabbed Johnathan's jaw, lowering his face down to his so his breath could fan over Johnathan's features. "And I owe it all to you. Thanks."

Arabella furrowed her brows further together. She was furious, annoyed, upset - all of the above. She took one more sorrowful glance at Johnathan before picking up her skirts and storming out the dining room. Dracula and Johnathan watched as she rushed away, giving the small baby wrapped in a bundle a quick glance, and finally up the stairs to her room. 

Dracula couldn't wrap his head around why Arabella stormed off but he thought he better go and see what had gotten her so riled up before she did something irrational. With a sigh, Dracula grabbed his glass and the buggy by the doorway. Before leaving Johnathan. "Now you write those three letters to Mina while I go see what crawled up Arabella's arse and died."