I have been afraid of vampires since I was a little girl. At night, I would pull my blankets up under my chin. (I’m not sure whether the logic was for vampires to not see me under the mountain of quilts, or whether I was hoping to eventually pass out from heat exhaustion, and therefore not be worried about vampires being in my bedroom.) I never dreamed that I would grow up to marry one. Not a traditional vampire, of course, or even a sparkly one – David is a heat vampire.
According to Urban Dictionary, a heat vampire is:
1. one who sucks all the heat out of your body because they are unusually cold
2. a person with insufficient body temperature which causes them to suck the heat from other people
I’m wondering if they might want to use his picture to accompany this definition.
He sucks all the heat from around him. If the heater is on, he will stand next to it and drape the blanket that is always around him over it so that it creates a cozy pocket. When the stove is on, he can usually be found hanging out around it. (However, this has the added bonus that he is always willing to step in and cook, just to have access to all that warmth.)
But his favourite heat source, by far? Is me.
When he holds my hands, I can actually feel the heat leaving my body in some weird, Marvel universe-like event. He might actually be an Inhuman; I’m checking on it.
If we had a pair of infrared goggles with thermal-imaging technology, I’m sure we could watch it happen – that slow sucking of heat from my limbs into his.
We live in Canada, where it is winter for approximately 10 months of the year. (Give or take.) So he always cold.
“Oh! You’re WARM!” he says as he burrows into the side of my neck.
“Are my hands cold? Feel my hands,” he pleads, as he inches his icy fingers towards my arms.
I tend to run warm, always have. My hands and feet are usually warm, my face radiates like a cheerful little wood stove. Inevitably, David’s heat-seeking tech locks in and startles me.
“Just a sec!” he’ll plead as I protest. “You’re SO WARM.”
I don’t think about vampires or scary stories as much anymore – mostly because I have learned not to expose myself to them. (I’m still a scaredy cat.) But I still go to bed with layers of quilts. I still pull them up to my chin. I still feel weird if my foot sticks out.
I have to conserve my heat reserves because I never know when the drainage will occur.
He looks perfectly normal. And with no shortage of hair, you might think that he would be warm and perfect for cozy cuddling. You would be wrong.
Do you know a heat vampire? Or… are YOU one?