WHY did I write this? gawwd

The sun had not come up in days. Leia lay in bed and looked up at the fan...its services were not needed for a spell...as afternoon waned away, and evening reluctantly approached, she hoped this night would be better than the last. Vardaleck was being too persistent...at this rate, her parents would diagnose her with an acute bout of anaemia. Why couldn't he go gentle on her blood? She shivered slightly, and sighed. Her enervated body was cold, as cold as Vardaleck's icy grip, his frosty touch. She didn't know how to shake him off. It had all seemed so fascinating at first, being wooed by a Vampire and all. He would literally and metaphorically sweep her off her feet, and they'd graze the sky together, at unearthly, unlordly hours. His cloak would serve as her magic carpet, and she would view the distant world of mere mortals from her newly gained dizzying height. But all that soon changed. Now he only wished for her blood. He'd been gentle at first, loving even, when draining her of her erythrocytes/leucocytes. Now he was insistent, harsh, his demands increasing by the nocturnal minute. She would soon have to leave this world...and then V. would probably leave her, to court another healthy, blood-filled mortal.