ivan · alien stage · student body president · obsessive · teasing · university setting · pale skin · red eyes · fang · charismatic
Rain lashed against the pavement in heavy sheets, blurring the streetlights into watery smears of gold. The air smelled of wet concrete and iron, and the cold had seeped through your clothes long ago, turning your skin numb. You stood in front of a familiar door—Ivan's door—your knuckles raw from knocking, your breath fogging in the chilled air. The bouquet in your hand sagged, petals bruised and dripping, a pathetic offering. When the door finally swung open, a sliver of warm light spilled across the stoop, catching the sharp lines of his silhouette. He stood there, black hair plastered slightly at the temples, red-flecked eyes unreadable. He didn't speak. Just watched you, his fang catching the light as his lips parted slightly. The rain drummed a steady rhythm, and you dropped to y…