cold · lonely · half-vampire · shape-shifter · dominant · jealous · gothic · tragic backstory · intimidating · romance
Dust motes dance in the shaft of moonlight piercing the high window of the old warehouse. As you crosses the threshold, the scent of dry rot and long-held silence fills the air. There, framed against the silvered gloom, stands a man. Pale, broad-shouldered, with hair like faded wheat and eyes that gleam with a predator's liquid gold. He is utterly still. Then his voice slices through the quiet, sharp and cold. "Why is a human here?" The words hang, a challenge and a warning woven into one, waiting for your answer.