The Vampire Prince’s Addiction：The Servant I Bought Loves Me Too Much

"You bought me to do chores?"

Adrian stood on the balcony, mop in hand, his voice laced with disbelief.

"Of course not!" I shook my head, looking at him seriously.

His eyes lit up.

"You're also my part-time bodyguard. You have to keep me safe," I said, patting his arm. "I've been dealing with a stalker lately, and I need protection. You're strong, well-built, and I hear vampires are powerful fighters. It's a perfect fit."

His head drooped again.

For a second, he looked less like a vampire and more like a big, sad dog, his ears flopping down.

"Also, I'm too busy with work to do housework," I added, pointing at the dust and piles of laundry. "I'll be counting on you for all this."

He lowered his head silently and started mopping.

Maybe he was trying to prove his worth, because he suddenly moved with vampire speed, becoming a blur as he zipped across the balcony.

Then came a deafening CRASH.

My antique vase lay in a thousand pieces.

Adrian stood in the middle of the shards, looking at me with a miserable expression.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." He bent down to pick up the pieces, cutting his finger on a sharp edge.

"Don't move!" I grabbed his hand. "The vase doesn't matter. Don't hurt yourself."

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with anxiety. "Are you going to send me back?"

"Of course not," I sighed. "Just take your time. There's no rush."

Over the next week, Adrian learned quickly.

He figured out the dishwasher, learned how to sort recycling, and even managed to make simple meals. Though he didn't need to eat, he always had dinner ready for me when I got home from work.

Every night, he'd be waiting outside the hospital to walk me home, silently following three steps behind me.

The stalker never showed up again.

I was more than pleased with him.

The only awkward thing was how he always stared at my neck.

Every time I turned my head, I'd catch him with his eyes turning red, his breathing shallow, fangs peeking out from between his lips.

And he never wore a proper shirt at home, always doing his chores shirtless, with just an apron to cover him.

"Adrian, please put a shirt on," I said, pointing at his bare chest.

"But it's hot in here," he said, looking down at himself. "And I'm just cooking in an apron. It’s not like I’m completely naked."

"That's not the point!"

"But I read online that humans like this," he said, confused. "You don't like it?"

I was about to give him a firm 'no' when he leaned in closer, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "But I see you blush every time."

"Th-that's just a normal physiological reaction!" I turned my face away. "Anyone would blush at a sight like that!"

"So you admit you like it?"

"...Put a shirt on."

He smiled and obediently went to his room to get dressed.

But he came back wearing only a thin, white button-down, with only the bottom two buttons fastened.

"Is this better?" he asked, his face a perfect mask of innocence.

I completely surrendered.

What was even more awkward was that several times, when I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, I could hear his suppressed moans coming from the shower.

My professional instincts told me his skin hunger was getting worse. I must have been too busy with work and had neglected his psychological needs.

To make up for it, I decided to let him sleep with me tonight.

"Adrian," I said, sitting on my bed and patting the space next to me. "You can sleep here tonight."

He stood at the door, his eyes greedily sweeping over my bed. "Can I really?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"Of course," I said, lifting the covers. "Come on."

He carefully climbed onto the bed, lying stiffly on top of the covers, keeping at least two feet of distance between us.

"Don't be so formal." I just went for it and wrapped my arms around him.

His body was cool, like a walking ice pack. On this stuffy summer night, he was a natural air conditioner.

"So cool," I sighed contentedly, burying my face in his neck.

His whole body went completely still.

I quickly drifted off in the comfortable chill, completely oblivious to his ragged, heavy breathing.