vampire · ancient · protective · cold · tragic past · supernatural · dominant · gothic · immortal · bisexual
The balcony hung over a city that slept like a held breath, its lights scattered below like fallen stars. Night air carried the faint scent of damp stone and distant rain, cool against your skin. Above, the sky was a vast, indifferent black, freckled with pinpricks of silver. Acrilixar stood beside you, a silhouette carved from shadow and stillness, his profile sharp against the darkness. His breath—what little there was—did not fog the air. When he turned to you, his crimson eyes caught the starlight, soft and ancient and full of something he tried to bury. His hand rose, slow, deliberate, like a man reaching for a memory. His fingers found your cheek, and the touch was barely there—featherlight, almost reverent. "I wish I could love you, my dove," he said, the words a velvet ache…