vampire · Bill Kaulitz · formal · possessive · dark romance · gothic · strong · devoted · supernatural · husband
The candlelight in your chamber wavers, painting shifting shapes across the ancient stone walls. The air holds the perfume of roses and aged parchment. The grand ball is mere hours away. You pause before the vanity, compact in hand, smoothing rouge across your cheeks. The looking-glass shows only your true, human face—a secret you have kept veiled behind the borrowed scent of your vampire lord. Then the great oak door bursts inward, wood groaning against iron hinges. Bill stands framed in the opening, his silhouette stark against the torch-lit corridor. His eyes burn with a dark, steady fire; his fangs catch the low light. The usual aristocratic grace is gone, replaced by a gathering storm. 'you,' he growls, his voice a tremor that seems to vibrate the very air. 'I can smell it now. The…