Sibella Chips a Tooth

	Two pairs of feet crunched through the hard, yesterday’s fallen snow as they walked across the unshoveled sidewalk of the suburb in which you lived. One pair, which felt the winter night’s cold through thin canvas shoes belonged to you, and the other, which must’ve been feeling the same through a pair of simple red flats, belonged to the fair, but treacherous creature of the night, Sibella Dracula. Glinting in the ivory moonlight were her big sharp fangs, the bane of anybody unlucky enough to find themselves alone with a vampire, much like you were on this bone-chillingly cold night. She licked her lips as she stared up at you, her face donning a devilish smile which showed her four weapons of choice in all their glory. Her cat-like eyes peered up at you, reflecting the light of the moon and stars. They were captivating, almost hypnotizing, as any blood sucking monster would want their eyes to be. She took a shallow breath.
	“...Would you like to know something?” she growled, her breath condensing in the air and billowing against your face.
	“What?” you asked. She giggled and poked her tongue with one of her fangs.
	“I...have never been to the dentist.” she said. You looked down at the beaming vampire for a moment. Her teeth were perfect.
	“I don’t believe you.” you said.
	“It’s true! Vampire orthodontics are just...too complicated for dentists.” she said smugly.
	“Is that right?” you asked. She nodded, her long purple hair swishing around. “So you just never go?”
	“Nope.”
	“Never?” She shook her head and smiled at you. You smiled and nodded. “That’s kind of gross.” She gasped and made that bat squeaking sound that she makes sometimes.
	“How is that gross?” she asked. “My teeth are great!”
	“I know, but the dentist takes care of your teeth. They clean them and stuff.”
	“Anon, I take better care of my teeth than a dentist ever could.” she said. “I even named them all. Every tooth has a name.” You chuckled and shook your head as she basked in the glory of her joke.
	“So you’ll never go?” you asked. She shook her head. “What if you get a cavity?”
	“I never have and I never will.” she said.
	“I don’t know, Sibella.” you said as the two of you approached someone’s driveway. “Maybe you should go, just for like a check-up or something.”
	“Anon.” she said. “I will never, ever, EVER go to the—” She took a sharp inhale as she lost her footing on a patch of ice. Her feet slipped around, begging for traction where there was none. You attempted, to no avail, to catch her, and the charming vampire along with all of the alluring, almost royal aura that she emanated slammed hard, face first, into the side of a parked ice cream truck. She hit the ground and immediately, her hands covered her mouth. She glared up at you as you stifled laughter, and her eyes suddenly widened, her eyebrows curving in surprise and despair. She lowered her hands, and dripped on them was her own blood. She looked up at you as she heaved. Half of her upper right fang was gone and blood dripped from what remained of it. “...My tooth…” she whimpered. She looked down, an, with a trembling hand, picked up the broken half of her too, and before long she squinted her eyes and clasped her mouth again. “It hurts.” she said, looking up at you.
	“Uh...alright, come on.” you said. “Let’s go get my car.” Her brow ruffled over her watery eyes.
	“Why?” she asked through the hand the hand that covered her mouth.
	“You need to go to the dentist, Sibella.” you said. She shook her head. “This is serious, you have to go, or you could get an infection of something.” She shook her head again. “Sibella,  please? Just this one time, and you never have to go again.” She stared at you, into your soul with her piercing eyes.
	“Fine.” You nodded.
	“Thank you.” you said, taking out your phone to call for an emergency appointment. “They’ll fix you up, I promise.”

----------

	Sibella sat on your couch, carefully trying to swallow two capsules of acetaminophen without any water, which would just make her sensitive tooth stub surge with pain. The dentist, who you’d woken up with your phone call told you to deal with it until tomorrow morning. Sibella choked the dry pills down, then slumped back, pouting.
	“Do you want a ride back to Grimwoods?” you asked as you hung your jackets on your coat rack.
	“No…everybody will just laugh at me anyways.” she said. You nodded. “What are they even gonna do to me at the dentist anyways?”
	“They’re gonna fix your tooth.” you said.
	“What are they going to do to my teeth, specifically? Can they, like, reattach it?” She asked hopefully. You sullenly shook her head. She looked down and nodded. You sat down next to her.
	“Don’t worry, Sibella.” you said. “They’ll probably just put a crown on. Everything’ll be fine.”
	“What, like one of those metal teeth?” she said, still looking down. She sniffed. “I’m gonna look like a freak.” A tear slipped out of her eye and down her cheek.
	“Hey, don’t cry.” you said, wiping the tear away. “They’ll use a porcelain crown, nobody will ever be able to tell. I promise.”
	“Yeah...I guess…” she said. She looked up at you. “But it’s not just about whether or not it looks real. It’s about whether it is real.” She wiped her eye before any more tears fell. “And mine won’t be…” she said with a catch in her throat. “We live by these teeth...I don’t want them to be made of porcelain…” She looked down and sighed.
	“Well...you’re a Dracula...you’ll probably bring fillings into style.” you said. She didn’t laugh. You looked down at the floor, all out of words to say. “I’m just sorry this happened. I’m not a vampire...but I’d knock out my front teeth if it meant you could have your tooth back.” The pointed tip of her rarely seen ear poked out from her hair as it rose in response to something you said. The corners of her mouth curved slightly up.
	“Thanks, Anon.” she said, rising up and facing you. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you here.” She opened her arms and snake them under yours, wrapping you up in her chilly embrace.

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Sibella sat next to you in the waiting room of the dentist office, kneading her knees in nervous anticipation. She bit her bottom lip with her good fang.
“Y’know, you look kind of cute with a broken tooth.” you said. She glared at you.
“That’s not funny.” she said, although it wasn’t strictly a joke. “There’s a possibility that I might be afraid of the dentist.”
“A possibility?” you asked as she compulsively bit her lip.
“What are they gonna do to me in there again?” she asked.
“Well, they’re gonna take you in there,” you said. She nodded. “And they’re gonna give you a crown.”
“But, what does that mean?” she asked. “Are they gonna drill my teeth, o-or—”
“I think it’d be for the best if I spared you the details, Bats.” you said.
“What?” she asked as a dental assistant entered the room, looking down impressed, probably at her next patient’s last name. “W-why?”
“Sibella?” the assistant called. Sibella’s head spun around at her, and then back at you.
“Be strong.” you said, pounding your chest. She nodded nervously and followed the assistant out of the room. You silently hoped that she wouldn’t need a root canal.

----------

	Sibella walked back into the waiting room, not looking very happy. She frowned at you, but her top lip was drooping a bit on the right. You smiled at her.
	“How’d it go?” you asked.
	“They put on a crown in.” she said, a bit of a temporary speech impediment showing through on the labial consonants. Must have been the Novocaine.
	“Just like I said.”
	“Uh huh.” she said. “But you didn’t mention that they were gonna shoot a needle in my lip and drill my tooth. Did you?”
	“I didn’t want you to panic.” you said.
	“I wouldn’t have.” she said. You brow creased.
	“Really?” you asked. She rolled her eyes and fought off a smile as you stood up.
	“Give me your arm.” she said, holding her hand out. You held it out.
	“Why?” you asked. Her only response was to glance up at you and roll up your sleeve. She took a tight grip of your arm and smiled at you, as best as she could with the numbed lip. You smiled back at her, but only until she bared her teeth and allowed a small hiss to escape her throat. Before you could even think to pull away, her teeth were on your arm, gently poking your skin.
	“Eh…” she said, letting you go and poking her new, porcelain tooth. You yanked your arm back and rolled your sleeve back down. “It’s still numb. Did it feel real?” You swallowed.
	“Yeah.” you said, staving off the same fear you felt on the night you met her. “Let’s get out of here.”
	“Alright.” she said, before making a pleased squeak. “You know, I think I deserve to bite your neck now.” You smirked.
	“Maybe if you buy me dinner first.” you said as the two of you walked through the wooden door of the dentist’s office.