"I... did want to ask you out, on the day I met you. And you were horribly sad, and I couldn't ask you out before I—fixed that."

Whatever answer she was expecting, it wasn't that. She blinks.

"... Okay," she says, as more of a confirmation that she received this information than that she's deemed it okay. "So was your plan to make me grateful to you so I'd say yes, or..?"

"No! Of course not, that would be—" He can't really find an adjective for what that would be, so he just repeats, "No, I just wanted you to not be so sad."

"... Okay," she repeats, after a long pause. "So why didn't you drop them off at my house and ring the doorbell and run, so I'd never know it was you at all? Why not hand them to the Royal Mail and have them come to me through normal channels? You personally handed them to me. Why."

"Because I—" He pauses. Why didn't he? That would have been smart, wouldn't it. Then he could run into her later and casually ask her out. She would've been happy and that would've been enough. She's just a very hot person.

Isn't she?

...isn't she?

"Right then," she says, and fishes for her purse. She quickly counts out enough pounds to pay for her share of the bill, and then she is out of her chair and walking off.

"Wait, wait, please, I—" He grabs her money and leaves a bill that covers much more than what they spent. Even if she leaves (she can't no that would be horrible she can't leave ever no) it wouldn't be fair for her to pay. He stands up and chases after her.

She keeps walking, heels clicking on the pavement. She is not looking at him.

"I'm not interested in being manipulated or lied to. If that's the kind of relationship you want to have, have it with some other girl."

"I didn't—I just wanted to see you, that's why I gave you the letters, and I wanted to see you happy like that because I—I—I need to tell you something. And it's gonna be quite unbelievable but give me five minutes to prove it to you?"

"Sure. You have until I'm done walking home or decide to call the police for harassment, talk quickly."

He looks around—is there anyone looking, how many people are around?

There are a number, and several of them are definitely looking right at them. What with the scene they just made, and what with a pretty girl stalking off while being followed by someone who looks upset and desperate.

Ughhh. "You won't believe me if I tell you but I can't show you here."

"And where can you show me? Why can't you show me here? Why won't I believe you?" Stalk stalk stalk she can walk very quickly for a human in heels.

"—pebble. Find a pebble. A really solid one. Please? Give me the benefit of the doubt, please."

She huffs, then decides that this is probably the most expedient way to get rid of him, so she makes a very brief (and speedy) detour where she scoops a bit of broken pavement off of the side of the road. She tosses it to him. Or, well, throws it at him, but it's not aimed at his head.

He grabs it with extremely good reflexes. "Look at it?" He puts it on the palm of his hand.

"Fine," she says, and she does.

He looks around to make sure they've walked far enough away from everyone else that he can just show this to her without other people being able to see it and, upon confirming this, uses the pinky finger in his other hand to crush it into fine dust. He shows her the result.

She blinks. Suddenly, she regrets not testing the solidity of the broken bit of pavement.

"... Okay, extra explanation time earned." Obligingly, she stops walking, though she does cross her arms.

He quickly catches up to her but stays a respectful distance away. "I'm a vampire. I have super senses and super strength, I'm immortal, I'm—in eternal unbreakable magic love with you from the moment I put my eyes on you because the magic decided that you and I would be romantically compatible." That last part is said very quickly and with his eyes closed.

"What?"

"I can prove any part of this to you except for the magic love. Blair is a vampire, too, he got turned and forgot that he was meant to send you letters—not you, he remembers you, but he forgot about the letters, and I tracked him and found him and reminded him and he wrote all of those letters again so that I could send them to you."

She stares at him like he's gone insane.

"I can prove any of this to you," he repeats. "Just not in public, not if I want to stay alive—and to keep you alive."