Haley Thistle
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Vampire Boyfriend: Oleander
🕑 Added 2021-06-01 19:01:01 +0000 UTC
Female Main Character x Male Monster (both cis)
Hard times are hard, especially when student loan debt is piling up. Who knew wanting to be a drama teacher was such a bad idea? I thought it would be fun. Unfortunately schools are laughing at the idea of hiring drama teachers as the arts get shorted in the budget. By this point, I’m used to it. I’ve looked for jobs, I’ve learned to rattle off my spiel in interviews like a pro, and I’ve pushed my resume onto every school I can. For now, I’ll live with hard times.
Currently, I’m working two jobs. Weekdays I work at a party store, and on weekends I go to parties dressed as whatever princess is requested by the birthday kid. I try to cheer myself up by reassuring myself I’m doing something that’s at least akin to theatre, but sometimes it’s hard not to feel undervalued. For the past few years, my life has consisted of submitting resumes, getting my foot in the door, and putting my foot into uncomfortable shoes, ranging from clear plastic to wooden clogs. I convinced myself that I would be fine doing it for as long I needed to. Once I got into the comfort of settling, that’s when I got the most amazing call.
I still have two jobs, working as a party princess and a theatre professor for the Willow Art School. It’s close to the Hephaestus Academy, which has become quite popular and is growing. I don’t really remember sending my resume to this school, but I sent so many. Luckily, it’s close by, so I didn’t have to move too far. It didn’t matter to me how meager my new apartment was, or that I still had to work two jobs to afford it. What mattered most to me was that I was finally able to work my dream job. I know it isn’t glamorous to want to be a theatre teacher, but my dad taught band and theatre and he made them seem like the most magical experiences. I had my syllabus planned out when I was fourteen.
I am so ready for my first class it isn’t funny. The only problem is that I only have a handful of students. I wasn’t told that the previous theatre professor was despised on campus, and the theatre program was all but abandoned because of him. The few students I have are only there because they think it’ll be an easy A with a new professor.
“You just have to get through your first semester. Once the students realize you’re not a piece of shit like Kirkman was, you’ll get some interested students lined up.” Urata, an oni, is the head of the art department at Willow, as well as a professor. He’s my boss, but since we met, I’ve considered him a friend and mentor.
“That’s just the thing. What am I supposed to do this semester? I have to actually show the department I’m worth the time and effort.”
Urata smirks. “You know I’m one of them.”
“Sure, but how far can you hype me and my pathetic first class to impress the others?” I slouch back in my chair, scratching my scalp, which always gets itchy when I’m aggravated. Probably because I associate it with wearing a bad wig. “Not only that, I have to figure out how to get costumes and build sets. I have to figure out a production I can do with five disinterested people.”
Urata tilts his head to the side. “If you want to vent, I can take you out for drinks tonight. If you want solutions, I could suggest to you someone on campus.”
“Someone on campus?” I sit up. “There’s a magic person who can do all these things?”
Urata nods, and the look on his face seems to be assessing whether I am good enough to know this information. “I know at least one person who can help you with the costume dilemma. He works here part-time during the evening classes, so you’d be able to catch him before his classes start and yours end. He teaches a gemology class.”
I can’t help but smirk a little. “Gemology is a real thing? I thought that was something fancy used to sell products on QVC.”
“It’s a science. He teaches it for our jeweler curriculum, as well as how to make beautiful jewelry. His display last year at the graduation gallery was some of the best works of art we’ve seen here.” He takes a business card from his desk. “Oleander Baudelaire is his name.”
I take the card, looking over the information printed there. The card is quite plain, to my surprise. “But what does a gemologist have to do with my lacking wardrobe department?”
Urata tilts his chin up. “He makes his own clothes.”
I arch a brow. “Is there a reason?”
Urata sighs and leans forward onto the table with his elbows. “Oleander doesn’t exactly fit into most clothes that are readily available for purchase.”
“Is he a robot?”
Urata chuckles. “No, he’s just very tall.”
I give Urata a once-over. He’s burying the lead here, or at least trying to figure out how I’m going to react. “How tall? Because you’re a big guy yourself, Urata, but I can tell that you’re wearing Moschino.”
“Oleander is much taller. We had to remodel the doorways in the STEAM building so he could fit through them.”
“Is he a giant?” I ask.
Urata gives me a look. “He’s shy about it. I’m only telling you because you’re desperate, and I don’t think you would purposefully hurt his feelings.”
I shrug and put the card into my back pocket. “To be fair, I’m 5’2”, so everyone is taller than me.”
“Just try to act cool when you first see him. He usually goes to the teacher’s lounge in the STEAM building before he starts class, you can probably catch him there.” Urata looks at his phone. “Sorry, a friend of mine needs some help at his new apartment. I’ll have to talk to you later. Let me know if anything else comes up, Holly.”
“Will do.” I sigh and return to my sack lunch.
That evening I head over to the STEAM building. I’m happy to find cinnamon buns waiting by the coffee pot, so I sit down and help myself to what will probably be the better part of my dinner, because all I have at home is ramen packets and Velveeta cheese. These are nice large cinnamon buns, too, so one should fill me up.
“Good afternoon, Professor Baudelaire.”
I look up with a cinnamon bun shoved into my mouth like a snake with an unhinged jaw. I am glad my mouth is full, though, as the figure who walks into the room would otherwise make my jaw drop. I wasn’t prepared for this behemoth of a man, who looks fit to go to war bare-fisted with Atilla the Hun and Alexander the Great. It takes my brain a moment to register that not only is he giant, he’s also a vampire, so maybe he really has faced off against a warlord in the distant past. He’s dressed nicely, and his clothes are beautifully made. His red eyes lock with mine, then shyly turn away as he walks over to a row of lockers and opens one.
I sit there on the sofa, like a toddler trying to ingest a whole cake. I finish off my bite and wipe the gooey icing from my mouth. “Hello!”
The man stiffens and turns slightly. “Good evening.” His voice is nice, very soft and gentle with a hint of a rasp.I know I need to to strike up a conversation with him, and prove I’m not just some greedy goblin eating cinnamon buns. “You’re the new theatre professor, right?” he asks.
I nod, grateful for the prompt. “Yes! That’s me! Professor Holly Bush.” He looks at me strangely, because most people do when they hear my name spoken out loud. I can only be grateful that my father’s last name wasn’t ‘Wood’. “I know. My parents didn’t think it out too well.”
“Well, at least your family’s last name isn’t Wood,” Baudelaire replies.
I break into grin and clap my hands together. “I say that! Actually…” How do I strike up this topic? “Urata actually said I should come and talk to you, but if you’re busy…”
“Urata?” He turns away from his locker as he slips on a cozy-looking cardigan. My god, his arms are longer than power lines! How does he exist in the real world? “What about?”
“I’m struggling,” I confess. “I wasn’t left much in the theatre department. I didn’t find out until recently that the last professor was kind of a piece of shit.”
“He was a piece of shit. So I’m not surprised you don’t have much.” Baudelaire sighs. “This is because I can sew, isn’t it?”
I look at him apologetically and nod.
“I’m not a costume designer. I mean, I can make most anything, but I’ve never had to make clothes for theatre before.”
“I don’t have much of a budget, but I’m willing to pay. And I only have five students right now, so I wouldn’t need many costumes at the moment. I’m sorry, I’ve only just met you and I’m asking for help like this…” I hold out my hand to him. “Let’s try this again. Hello, nice to meet you. I’m Holly.”
Oleander looks at my hand, an almost shy glint in his eye. He takes my hand and I could swoon at the difference in our palm size. “Very nice to meet you, Holly. I’m Oleander. But you can call me Ollie, if you’d like.”
I start to giggle. “Holly and Ollie. We could be a cartoon. We both have plant names too,” I say with a smile.
He smiles back. “That’s right.”
“Maybe it would be best to discuss this at a later time. Maybe over coffee or…” I stop myself. “Or somewhere you can enjoy.”
Oleander seems surprised. “There’s a bakery a friend of mine runs, Red Velvet Confections. We could meet regularly there.”
I take out his card and write the name down on it. “Oh yeah, Urata gave me this. So it’s okay if I send you a text?”
If vampires could blush, I could swear he is now. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Okay, great! I look forward to talking to you, Ollie. Have a good night.”
“You too.”
Rather than leave, I sit back down to finish off the cinnamon bun. I earned it by setting this up.
I arrange the meeting for Sunday evening, just after Ollie gets up for the day. The bakery is vampire-owned and run, and makes confections for humans and vampires alike. The interior is all red and black, which suits the little Goth child in me. I’m sure which of the seats Oleander will want to take, given his size, so I decide to look through all the cases and daydream about what I would get if I had the money.
Behind me the door opens, and then there’s a thud. Turning around, I see Oleander ducking through the doorway and holding his forehead. “Uh-oh, are you okay?” I quickly head over to him.
“It’s fine,” he sighs. “I’m used to it.” Oleander rubs his forehead before lowering his arms.
He really is the tallest man I’ve ever seen, and I feel awful having to crane my neck up to look at him. “I haven’t gotten a table yet. I wanted to make sure you’d be comfortable.”
Again Oleander looks surprised. “It’s hard to find somewhere I can fit. You didn’t need to wait on my account.”
“Nah, it’s okay. I figured if you wanted, we could walk to the park from here, but apparently there was some sort of fight there a few days ago, so part of it’s cordoned off.” I give him another smile. “So all my plans seem moot.”
Oleander’s smile is gentle, and his long white lashes make me jealous. “There’s a half-booth we can sit at in the back. That’s where I usually go when my sweet tooth is acting up.”
As someone with several sweet teeth, I’ve always been curious what sort of appetites vampires have. “I don’t mean to sound offensive, but vampires have sweet tooths?”
He chuckles. “Some things never die.”
This information makes me extremely happy, and less nervous to become a vampire should that option ever arise. As a goth baby, it was all I ever wanted. Well that or to date Elvira.
“Have you ordered anything?” Oleander asks as he approaches the counter.
I shake my head. “I’d like to, but I’m still scrimping money from the move.”
He points at the menu. “What would you like?”
I’m flattered and so very tempted, but I’m afraid I can’t indulge. “No, seriously, don’t worry. I really should be buying you this, since I’m trying to ask you a favor. It wouldn’t feel right.”
“Go ahead, I don’t mind. I’ll feel guilty eating alone.”
That goes right to my head, but I push away the flattery. “I suppose the cinnamon dolce cappuccino sounds good. And the…” My eyes fall to a delicacy in the case, a cluster of petit fours that come four to a pretty little box. It looked exactly like something a princess would eat, and I want it. “The petit four quartet,” I say, afraid I’m going to look silly for wanting it.
“Two of those, then,” Oleander says to the girl at the register.
My cheeks are burning. This almost feels like a date, but it’s not. It’s a discussion between two educators. After we get our order, Oleander shows me to the booth, and I sit on the booth side while he takes the chair. It’s a bit small for him, but he can at least turn so his legs are facing outwards. “Thank you for the treat.” I’m so excited about the petit fours. I haven’t had any since a tea party I hosted as Alice from Alice in Wonderland. I just hope these are better than those were.
“It’s rare I get to treat someone,” Oleander admits. “I don’t often get invited out much.” His drink looks creamy and red, almost like a red velvet cake has melted in his cup.
“Well, I’ll invite you out again, if only to pay you back for tonight.” I take a sip of my cappuccino, and we fall silent for a while, each enjoying our drinks and the divine sweets. Oleander looks at me, his red eyes darting from my hands to my face, then to the drink in my hand.
“So, costumes,” he starts off shyly.
I nod, setting aside my drink. “Yes. There’s no wardrobe to speak of. I think the old professor must have cleaned it out when he was fired. I’m really hoping I can find a way to work with you to build the costume supply back up.”
Oleander’s smile is enchanting, lips tinted red from his drink, eyes crinkled, his cheeks almost rosy. He even chuckles softly. I worry I may be blushing too much. This is supposed to be about work. A business meeting! “Did I say something?”
Oleander swipes his finger across his upper lip. “Your cappuccino betrays you.”
I grunt and take a napkin to wipe the foam off my face. “Of course this would when I’m trying to have a polite conversation,” I grumble. “Well, now that I’ve shaved…”
Oleander laughs again. “Sorry. You’re funny, it’s not the, um…” He touches his upper lip again then laughs even more.
I smile. His big size betrays how sweet he really is. “Go ahead, laugh. It’s part of my job.”
Oleander looks a touch confused. Once he hears the truth I’m sure he’ll be even more confused. “You mean as a teacher?”
I shake my head. I do enjoy playing a princess at parties. In my childhood I was a horse girl, then a princess, then a goth girl, then a theatre kid. Being a party princess lives out a few childhood dreams from a few of those periods, but sometimes it’s hard to explain and some people think it’s more hilarious than anything. “I have a weekend job. You know how birthday parties often have clowns and stuff? That’s me. Except it’s usually as a princess.”
Oleander eyes widen slightly. “You play a princess for parties?”
“Party princess, that’s me.” I chuckle. “It uses some of my theatre knowledge, so it isn’t too bad. Pays well.” I take a sip of my drink, careful that I don’t attain more foam facial hair.
“I bet you’re cute as a princess.” he says, then looks taken aback by his own forwardness.
I’m often called cute due to my stature and baby face, but once I see his guilty expression I have to wonder; is he flirting with me? I don’t know how to do it. I used to flirt in my goth days by throwing plastic bats at the people I liked. “I bet you’d be cute as a princess,” I throw back.
“I doubt I’d fill out a dress well,” Oleander says shyly, then covers for himself by taking a drink and eating another sweet.
“Never say never.” I drink again, if only to shut myself up. “We’re getting off topic. Costumes!”
“Costumes,” Oleander laughs.
“Costumes.” I take a deep breath.
“It’s okay if you’re nervous around me. I’m as used to that as I am low door frames,” he sighs. “It comes with the landscape of my being.”
“Oh no,” I blurt. “It’s not that at all, Ollie. I’m just like this!”
Oleander smirks. “I thought theatre people were supposed to be outgoing.”
“On stage! But off the stage, I’m an absolute mess.” I smile at him. “I’m barely above five feet tall, so I’m used to the world looking down at me. You’re just one more tall person next to a million to me.”
“I wish that’s what I was,” Oleander sighs sadly. “But anyways, do you know what you’re going to be needing costumes for in the future?”
“Maybe Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, but I don’t think this class would be able to handle it. So I’m still thinking it out. Maybe a fairy tale or something easy.”
“Get to know your students first, that’s what I suggest. Maybe they’re more apt than you give them credit for.” Oleander takes a drink. “But if it’s costumes you need, I’d be happy to help. I just have one request.”
“Sure, what’s that?” I ask.
The sly smile on his lips betrays him. He knows what he’s up to. “You have to help me make them.”
“Easy. Done!” I say excitedly. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Hopefully I don’t sew myself into anything. “I’ve never sewed anything before, so you may regret having a newbie on hand.”
Oleander finishes off his drink, which does not surprise me. I bet he could finish a 7-Eleven Big Gulp in two gulps. “No worries. I’m a teacher, so it’s what I do, although I’m more used to teaching jewelry-making techniques than costume design.”
“I’d love to see some of your work. Urata told me your end-of-year display was one of the best.”
He smiles demurely again. “I pride myself on it. The clothes I make are for me alone, but the jewelry I make with my students is something I share with the world. I don’t have anything on campus right now, since it’s the start of a new semester. But I can always send you pictures.”
“Sounds good. I’m particular to rubies, since they’re my birthstone. Pearls, too.”
The smile on Oleander’s face goes from shy to pleased. “I actually have a personal piece that I call ‘Cream and Wine’, made from only pearls and rubies. It’s in my safe box at the bank though, so I’d have to go get it.”
I beam. He really seems to enjoy talking about his jewelry. “I hope to see it one day!”
I save two of the petit fours for later, rather than indulge all at once. Plus, the package looks so pretty sitting on my counter. I sit down to figure out what play I could do for this semester, but when it gets too frustrating I get a message from my other job. A family is planning a Beauty and the Beast party for their son, and they want me to be Belle. But there’s a hitch - they need a Beast too. This is a conundrum, because I’ve never worked with anyone before aside from a clown. The family is offering a massive amount for a Beauty and Beast, but where would I find a willing Beast? Maybe I have a student who needed the extra cash, too.
I’m getting ready to head to bed when a message pops up on my phone. It’s from Oleander. “I know it’s late, but what are you doing this weekend?”
Is this another chance to succumb to the charming wiles of the giant vampire prince? I really need to stop watching princess movies. “I’m still unpacking and cleaning. I’m also going to try and put together a wardrobe of my princess gowns.”
“I got concerned for a moment. I forgot you played a princess on weekends.”
“I play fake princesses on weekends. I am a princess always.” I hate myself as soon as I hit send. “Ignore me. I’m tired and soaring on those treats from earlier.”
“Understandable. I was only asking because I thought I cgive show you a tip or two on how to use a sewing machine.”
“I would rather do that than put together the wardrobe, if I’m being honest.”
“Fair. I usually get out of bed around five. How does six sound?”
I smile. “Only if you’re not worried after the princess comment.”
“I’ll be wary, but I think it’s okay.” He sends another message immediately after. “Sorry, I forgot to ask. I have cats. You’re not allergic, are you?”
My little goth heart is set aflame. A handsome, tall, jewelry-making vampire who also has cats? He’s a coworker, so I need to calm my single ass. “Do you have any black cats?”
“All of them are black except one.”
“Perfect. They’re my favorite! I used to have a black cat named Morticia.”
“How funny. I have one named Gomez.”
Oh no, he’s too good. “That’s amazing! I’m excited to meet your cats.”
“I’ll send you my address, then. Maybe I’ll see you around campus.” We teach on opposite ends of the campus, not to mention at opposite hours. What with Oleander’s evening schedule and my morning one, it seems unlikely. But I decide it’s best to remain optimistic.
School on Monday proceeds as usual. My small class of five still isn’t as eager to participate as I hoped. Perhaps if I find the right play they will be more eager to put themselves into the classwork. Most of them are only taking the class for an easy grade, which seems ridiculous to me since their grade hinges on the stage production. At any rate, after the class is done, I go to have lunch with Urata. “You made an impression with Oleander,” he says as we take our seats. “He messaged me to tell me he likes you.”
“You’re firing me, aren’t you?”
Urata laughs and shakes his head. “You two are in different departments, so as long as it doesn’t result in any sort of confrontation on campus you’re safe. I just thought I should tell you.”
I lean over the table towards him. “I don’t mean to sound totally high-school about this, but does he mean ‘like’ or ‘like-like’?”
Urata can’t help but chuckle. “I’m not answering you when you talk like that, Holly. I think you can piece it together like an adult.”
“I thought that was flirting. I just wasn't sure.” I smile. “He said he’d help me with costumes, I just have to help make them.”
“Have you ever done that before?” Urata asks.
I shake my head. “I either got costumes made elsewhere, rented them, borrowed from friends, or got them from thrift stores. I’ve never had to make an entire garment before.”
“What about your side hustle?” he teases.
“What I own I bought from cosplayers,” I say with a shrug. “They stopped teaching home economics before I even got into high school, so I don’t even know how to stitch.”
“He’s a good teacher, so I don’t doubt Oleander can teach you a thing or two. But it’s depressing to hear such classes aren’t being taught anymore.”
“I still don’t know what taxes are.” I’m only half-joking.
Urata smirks. “I’ve known Oleander a long time. He’s a good friend. He’s shy because of his height, so I’ve not known him to date much. And when he does, it’s usually… Let's just say it’s not been fair to him. So I’m going to play the big brother role and tell you to treat him well, or I’ll kick your butt.”
I hold up my phone. “As my boss, can you do that, or should I record this conversation?”
Urata’s stern expression melts, and he smiles again. “As your friend and his friend, I’m telling you he’s been hurt a lot, and that hurts me. So if you’re attracted to him, make sure it’s because of who he is, not what he is.”
“That’s beautiful, Urata,” I murmur. But it also makes me think. I kept thinking of Oleander as a tall vampire, so maybe I am guilty of liking him for the what rather than the who. But he’s very sweet, and he makes me laugh. I like his smile so much it makes my heart sputter. I really need to think before I see him again.
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