Keith woke groaning and cursing. He felt the side of his face and his arm grow way too hot for comfort. He glared at the window his dormmate had opened, and wobbled out of bed to close the curtains immediately.

"It's not like it burns you or anything," Lance shrugged at Keith's irritability, nibbling on a waffle as he flipped through pages in a textbook on his bed, still in his pyjamas.

"No, but I don't like the sun, either," Keith grits his teeth.

Lance chuckles, "You need a tan."

Keith growls under his breath and stretches. No hope on falling back asleep now. He licked his lips, feeling his fangs much smaller than when he bites.

Should I tell him or throw him in a trance? Keith thinks to himself, planning out how he wants to draw blood from Lance's neck--or wrist, but neck would be preferred, he'll probably be hungry enough.

"What's that?" Lance asked absent-mindedly, taking another bite of his breakfast.

"Nothing," Keith responds, internally slamming his head into a wall for mumbling his thoughts.

Lance shrugs, about to reply but finds an important passage in his studybooks. He highlights it with a pen, and then goes back to reading.