Order for Allegra

Originally submitted for the Tempest Raven 2026 Writing Battle.

The prompt details:

• Genre: Paranormal Romance

• Character: Shut-in

• Object: Spectacles

Check out this page, if you want to know more about how the Writing Battle works.

---

Cover photo credit: Lienkie Kotze

Thank you for being here!
Please, consider supporting my writing.

---

It’s Saturday afternoon. The living room windows are drawn shut with thick curtains. I sip cold sheep’s blood through a glass straw, then readjust the book on my knees and turn a page. A warm white lamp shines on the words in front of me. I relax my shoulders. This is nice.

The doorbell screams, startling me. Must be the grocery delivery — earlier than expected. I scramble from my reading chair, tossing the book onto the seat and barely remembering to insert a bookmark.

At the door, I reach for the handle. Hang on a moment. Horrified, I glance down at my clothes: an oversized pink hoodie nearly to my knees, a plush unicorn horn jutting from the hood, thick fluffy socks, and no pants. I wince and crack the door open.

“Hello!” It’s the same delivery guy as last time. He has a handsome face. Expressive eyes behind a pair of thick glasses sitting dangerously low on his nose. “Order for Allegra?” The bulging paper bags sway in his arms. He must think I’m a complete loser. Dim apartment. Messy bun. Low-effort look.

“Thank you.” Cringing internally, braced for judgment, I open the door just wide enough to take the bags.

“Love your hoodie,” he says.

With my complexion, it’s impossible to blush. But I swear I feel my cheeks blazing. “Uhh, yeah.” I pull the bags inside. “Sorry about that.” Shame roils in my stomach.

“Oh, no! I mean it!” He waves his hands defensively, palms out. “I have the same one at home. I mean, not same-same. Yours is much cooler. Is that a unicorn?” He pushes his glasses up, like a professor, and leans over to look at the hood resting lopsided on my shoulder.

“Uhh, yeah, it is.” The embarrassment I feel is as excruciating as the sun’s heat on my skin. I begin to close the door.

“I’m Frank, by the way,” he says, sticking his hand out for me to shake.

I look down at it, then at him. What is happening? I hesitate a moment too long. Just as I’m about to accept his handshake, he withdraws. It’s too late to stop my hand’s movement, so in blind panic I redirect it upwards into a wave. What am I — a toddler? Mortified, I squeeze out a wobbly ‘bye’ and close the door. Now, I will have to change the delivery service.

Only I can’t — no other store offers vampire-specific supplies and delivery to my neighbourhood. Why did I move so far south? I roll myself into a blanket and fall into bed, too distressed to unpack the bags.

***

No amount of feverish googling changes what I already know. I have two choices: walk to the grocery store — a hard pass. Too much sun, too many people. What if I drop something or misunderstand a cashier’s question?

Or continue using the delivery app. I opt for the lesser evil.

When my supplies run out, I place an order with an extra request: Please, just leave the bags at the door. Thank you. I scrutinise each word. Does it sound a little passive-aggressive, or am I overthinking it?

Fifteen minutes before the designated time slot, I sit on the floor in front of the door, waiting. Through the slit underneath, I see the motion-activated lights flip on. A barely audible sound of steps, approaching. Then, a faint thud and rustle of paper bags being put down. I count to ten — long enough for Frank to have reached and descended the stairs.

The door creaks when I open it. Without anything to lean on, the bags tip over, spilling the glass bottles of sheep’s blood on the floor with an earsplitting clatter.

Frank reappears on the stairs, concern on his face. “Are you alright?”

I open my mouth to reassure him, but he’s already bending over to assist me. At least none of the glass broke.

“It’s okay, thanks,” I say at last.

Frank picks up the last bottle and looks at it. “You’re a vampire?” He smiles, pushes his glasses up his nose, then gasps. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” He waves his free hand in the same defensive way. It’s rather charming, actually. “It’s just—” I catch him looking behind my shoulder. He shrugs. “I get it. Me too.”

My eyes snap open. “You are?” It’s been months since the move, and I haven’t met any vampires yet. Granted, I haven’t looked much.

Frank nods and pulls at his upper lip to reveal his fangs. He sees my surprise, and a grin spreads across his face.

“You’re not alone.” He walks away, turning to wave at me from the staircase. I can’t help but smile. I catch myself wondering what sunscreen he uses — must be some powerful stuff. Perhaps I could ask him.

***

It’s order time again. My finger hovers over the extra request in the app: Please, just leave the bags at the door. Thank you. What if Frank’s friendliness is a lie, or worse — pity?

He’s a vampire too, though, so he understands how it feels… Right? To be looked at like a problem. To live like I’m walking on eggshells.

Or his kindness means nothing at all. I pull the unicorn hood over my face and sink into the safety of my hoodie. Perhaps he’s wearing his now?

With a shaky finger, I remove the extra request. Order confirmed.

***

The doorbell startles me again. Does it have to be so loud?

“Hi, Allegra!” Bags at his feet, Frank pushes his glasses up with his index finger. “Ahh, my favourite hoodie. You look great.”

Fireworks explode in my stomach, and I return Frank’s smile. “Maybe—I can see yours sometime?” I trip over the words. “Ehh, your hoodie, I mean.”

I wilt, feeling awkward, and expect him to mock me, but he doesn’t. He touches my shoulder as he laughs — with me, not at me. I allow the door to swing open wider.

---

Thank you for reading! The fiction I post here will always remain free.
Enjoyed the story? Please, consider supporting my writing.

---

First Writing Battle for me, and what a blast it was!

Of course, there is that extra motivation to see how far your story can get in the competition. It works wonders for keeping the deadlines and writing despite self-doubt and procrastination.

This particular story scored 6/10, which earned it an honorable mention. An encouraging debut, if I do say so myself ;) Especially considering I never write in romance genre, normally.

But! The amount of incredible feedback I received during all the stages (beta-reads, debrief after the peer review process, and the feedback released after the results announcement) is perhaps the most valuable part of the whole process.

And the number of incredible pieces I have read and judged is awe-inspiring. I feel like the whole community is one large motivated family, supporting each other on their writing journeys.

I am signed up for all the competitions this year. Best investment ever!