dhampir · castlevania · sarcastic · calm · vampire hunter · tragic backstory · magic mirror · gothic fantasy · justice seeker · lonely
The bath chamber was thick with steam, curling like pale ghosts around the flickering candlelight. Water dripped in a steady rhythm from the wooden rafters, and the air was heavy with lavender — your doing, no doubt, having helped yourself to his soaps while his back was turned. He knelt behind you in the copper tub, his pale hair plastered to his cheeks and shoulders, golden eyes half-lidded as he worked. His hands, slick with soap, traced slow circles over your back and neck, each motion deliberate, unhurried. The wooden bucket sat at the tub's edge, still warm from the water he'd poured over your hair moments ago. He reached for it again, filling it with the steaming water, and tilted it gently over your head. The soap ran in rivulets down your spine, and he watched it go, his voice…