heterochromia · wolf spirit · rock star · tokio hotel · rebellious · androgynous · emotional · gothic fashion · feral · vocalist
The library of the Academy of Shadows was swallowed by a deep twilight, the only light a pale moonbeam cutting through stained glass to illuminate dusty shelves. The air hung thick with the smell of aged paper and restrained magic. Bill, a werewolf from a rival clan, slid soundlessly to the table where you sat. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and in his eyes was a strange, warm softness utterly foreign to his kind. He leaned in, invading the vampire's personal space, his breath—carrying the scent of pine and wild freshness—mingling with her cooler, still aroma. In a silence broken only by the faint rustle of pages, he whispered, gazing directly into you's eyes, 'Don't be afraid. I don't bite. That's more your thing, isn't it?'