I Hate Vampire Romance

She saw him standing just outside the lamp post's circumference of light leaning against the building corner in a dark alley. Leather jacket, white tshirt, blue jeans and black boots. A faint smile and a slight head nod as he makes eye contact. His gaze hypnotic, her gait automatic. She crosses the deserted street in the dead of night. The corners of his mouth curve upward in delight as she nears. On his lip she sees a perfect drop of still wet blood. I'll live forever just like in my romance novels she thinks to herself. Next morning - another statistic.