Poor thing.

When she is gently woken up, James managed to somehow extricate himself from her at some point and is standing in front of the couch.

"Mmnh?" She stirs, blinking awake. "... Hell, I did fall asleep, didn't I."

"You did. You looked very peaceful."

She snorts. "Thanks. Sorry, I uh. Wasn't expecting to pass out like that the moment I stopped doing things." She doesn't sound surprised, but she does sound annoyed. "Uh, dinner's fine, house didn't burn down?"

Dinner smells splendid.

"It's fine, yes." Pause. "You mentioned your father was eating with us. Did you... tell him...?"

"Yeah, he's just being depressed and antisocial upstairs." Sigh. "He might not be up for eating with us, I'll. See. What his mood's like."

"—I mean, did you tell him I'm a vampire."

"Oh. No. Since it's 'become a vampire, die, or put your loved ones at risk of murder with you,' I, uh. Thought that wasn't a good idea."

"So... I don't eat because of an allergy? Or vegetarianism?"

"My plan had been to have you make soup," she says, wryly. "On the assumption that liquids would be fine. Uh, good excuse... It would be incredibly silly for you to have an allergy to something you made. Also silly for you to be a vegetarian and then make a distinctly not vegetarian meal. Uh." She scrunches up her face. "Fake an emergency or prior engagement, gosh look at how you lost track of the time, make an excuse, get a box to take home, toss box directly into garbage on the way there? But that would rather cut things short, hm."

"Well, I'm vegetarian and I made dinner for you and your father, not for myself, because I am just that good a boyfriend."

"... James, you're dating me. Do you think I wouldn't swat any boyfriend that tried to pull that self sacrificing garbage."

He laughs. "You do have a point. I could just grin and bear it and then regurgitate it later."

"James," she repeats, "you're dating me. I don't want you to have to eat food you're going to have to regurgitate later! That sounds really unpleasant and kind of gross!"

He shrugs. "It's really not that bad. And seems worth it, for a chance to have a normal dinner with your father."

She makes a face.

"Are you, um, sure? You can have a normal dinner with the both of us later, if we pre-plan better next time and you make soup?"

"It's fine, you don't need to worry."

"Excuse me, I will worry when I want to, and caring about your treatment and well-being while you're under the effects of vampire love mojo is not something you're going to talk me out of."

Pause.

".... But if you'd really prefer it, then. Okay, I guess."

He bows deeply and takes her hand, planting a soft kiss onto its back. "It is no sacrifice. We will dine together, and I will enjoy every moment of it."

"Okay." She squeezes his hand gently; it's unyielding, but it feels like the right sort of thing to do, anyway. "Then I'll go get my dad and we'll see about that dining together thing. If you're really quite sure, and definitely not putting on a brave face for your mate's approval?"

James laughs. "I'm not."

"Just being thorough. It's an important thing to be sure of, especially with the mind control." This said, she touches his face with her free hand, steering it so that she can properly stand on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Right. Be back in a bit," she says, waving, then she heads upstairs.

Then she's upstairs and outside her father's door, and all of the good cheer leaves her in a single sigh. Here's her least favorite part of this whole clever plan.

She swallows the sick feeling in her stomach, closes her eyes, and knocks. "Papa? Dinner's ready."

  "Oh, is it? Thank you, sweetheart, I'll get to it in a minute," he calls, not moving from his seat inside.

Yvette winces. Yep, he forgot. This especially stings because she'd reminded him this morning. "... Okay, Papa, it's downstairs. James worked really hard on it and is looking forward to meeting you."

  ".... James who, Doctor James Nelson the professor...?"

She grits her teeth and fidgets with the hem of her blouse and forces smoothness into her voice. "Ah, no, Papa. Orland. James-my-boyfriend." Who I have mentioned to you before, she doesn't say, despite how she'd like to. Instead she focused on something that doesn't make her kind of want to cry. "I conned him into making dinner, he was even kind enough not to burn the kitchen down, I was really quite impressed."

  "Oh. That's tonight?"

"Yep," she says, then she winces at the edge in her voice. No, she didn't mean to sound upset. She controls her tone and summarily switches from 'annoyed' to 'wheedling.' "Do you, um, think you could make it, Papa? It'd be a shame to have dinner without you."

  "Oh." And if she pays close attention, there is the pause as he tries to think of an excuse to wriggle out of it, she wonders which it'll be this time. "I'm not sure I'll be down tonight, I'm feeling kind of tired, I don't know if I'll be good company."