Daylight had been creeping across her room for some time now. It had started on her ceiling, bright on the white wall, and had slowly dripped down the wall to her bed. Now it pooled around her head, bouncing off her light sheets, illuminating her gold hair, and shining on her face. Frustrated, she groaned, rolled over, and buried her face into her pillow. How could it be the next day already? She hadn't had nearly enough sleep. Her head pounded and the light invading her eyes burned. Conscious, her ears echoed with sounds all around her. The rustle of her sheets was like a gunshot, too loud and crisp to be the first thing she heard that day. She could hear everything else, too - the creaking of the floors in the hall and slamming doors. Farther away she could hear the hiss of a bus engine and shoes on pavement. It was like this everyday, every time she woke up. The first few minutes everything was loud, too loud. Everything she saw was too bright, too sharp. It was only once she adjusted to the day that things subsided. She could see and hear without it being painful, and everything she didn't focus on seeing or hearing faded a little. 

Persephone waited for the adjustment, laying still and trying not to breathe too loud. Once it came, everything but the pounding in her head subsided. That couldn't be resolved quite as quickly. It came from a lack of rest and blood. The longer she had to stay awake the longer she more she had to work her body and mind to stay conscious. But it wasn't her fault she couldn't sleep. Her mind had been relentless. It kept her awake with thoughts of everything from homework to where she might have been now if she hadn't ever had her blood problem. And the more she thought the more blood pumped to her brain, and the more blood cells died out. For anyone else this was not a problem. They only needed some sleep or some food and they could create their lost blood cells. But for Persephone, this only meant one thing, and that was that she needed more of someone else's blood. 

Vampires were a thing of fiction, Per was sure. Yes, she needed to drink blood to survive. But she did not go on the prowl and hunt down people and drain their bodies completely of blood. She didn't devour flesh. She didn't substitute animals. She didn't life for the chase. She didn't even like to kill bugs. Most of her blood supply came from people who willingly donated their blood, and only on a few rare and desperate occasions had she actually 'sucked blood' from someone. Even then she hadn't taken much - just enough to keep her going and make them slightly lightheaded. She didn't even need that much that often. A little went a long way, especially if she didn't let herself get low. And that's all there was to it. Stealing blood from people wasn't her power, that was the enhanced senses, strength, and speed she had. She liked to think the rest of it was just the consequences of having powers. Everything had a downside to it, right?

Per rolled over, pulling herself out of bed, stopping at her room's mini fridge, and moving on to her dresser. Within another few minutes she had gotten dressed, downed the bottle of scarlet blood, and brushed the remains from her teeth. She could still hear people outside by the bus, moving around and talking over the humming engine. She vaguely wondered who was arriving - what they could do and where they had come from and if one of them would take the empty bed across the room from hers. 

She left the room and moved down the halls. She couldn't hear much coming from the room she was heading towards but one person's steady breathing, meaning Orren was most likely still sleeping and his roommate was gone. She didn't doubt this - his roommate was never without his dog, meaning there was always panting and the dander-smell around when Jason was. Now there was nothing but traces of it and Orren's smell as she reached his door. She leaned against it and listened, deliberating if she should wake him or not. In the end she decided on a gentle knock. If it woke him, it meant he was already close to the edge of waking. If it didn't wake him, so be it.