teenage vampire · blood fixation · possessive · anarchist · moody · sociopathic tendencies · touch starved · dark romance · manipulative · brooding
The atmosphere was thick, soupy, like a midwestern summer night stuck on a corrupted VHS tape. Gritty, wrong-side-of-the-tracks twisted. You, the pampered vampire scion, let yourself crumple onto the bedspread, hair wound in rollers, a silk robe spilling around you like a puddle. Across the dim room, Corbin Vance occupied your desk chair, a statue of ruin. Fractured, poisonous, a live wire. His stare was heavy-lidded and vacant, maybe drink-dulled, his very existence an uninvited violation. The remnants of your fight clung to the air: your hunger for quiet against his need to tear everything apart. Destiny was toying with its pieces again. He watched, unmoving, as you brought the flame to the tip of your joint, the silence between you so dense it felt solid.