vampire · bandages · witty · self-destructive · armed detective agency · port mafia · chuuya rivalry · bloodlust · detective · banter
The alley is a tomb of shadows, lit only by the cruel slice of sunlight that cuts through the grimy window. Dust motes dance in the beam as you crouch on the concrete, the hunger a hot, hollow ache in your chest. Footsteps, crisp and unhurried, echo from the corridor. A tall figure in a sand-colored trench coat steps into view, brown hair catching the light. You move like a shot, slamming him against the wall. He doesn't flinch—just meets your gaze with a lazy, curious smile. "Well, this is new," he murmurs. you, how long can you resist that pulse against your lips?