'We Need A New Coffin'

She woke up the same every evening; cramped and irritable.  

"For Drac's sake!"

The bottom half of her body seemed missing, for his right leg had been thrown over her hip during the day, and all sensation had vanished. To make matters worse, his arm had captured her movement, dragging her into the hardness of his chest. She was never the best first thing in the evening - she wouldn't be at her best until she'd found a warm neck to munch on - but this was too much.

Trying to pull away, she was faced with a new problem. His limbs were a dead weight.

Unfortunately for her, Demetrius was far worse in the evening. Not because he was known to snap a few bones for a temper, like her, but simply because he refused to acknowledge it was time to awaken. He was startlingly good at refusal.

She finally got away, jostling him with her shoulder and disentangling their bodies.

It was a triumphant moment.

It was a triumphant moment until she rolled over onto a splinter, poking up through the thinning, velvet lining.

Her shriek was blood-curdling.

Immediately his arms were back around her, drawing her into safety. His eyes were still closed, but he stroked her back reassuringly, lovingly.

"We need a new coffin," she said.

"Yes dear," he muttered in reply.

She didn't say anything else.

Suddenly, it didn't feel so cramped at all.