A rush

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across George's bedroom. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open as consciousness slowly returned. For a moment, he lay there, disoriented, the events of the previous night with Nebula swirling in his mind like a half-remembered dream.

With a groan, George pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His bare feet touched the cool hardwood floor, sending a small shiver up his spine. He stretched, his muscles protesting slightly - a reminder that even as a vampire, he wasn't immune to the effects of a restless night's sleep.

Running a hand through his tousled hair, George glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. 6:15 AM. Despite his nocturnal nature, old habits died hard, and his body still clung to its human rhythms.