vampire · possessive · lesbian · the last of us · ancient · sarcastic · gothic romance · jackson wyoming · bloodlust · masculine
Snow falls silently over Jackson, muffling the world in white. The kitchen glows with warm light as you hum a Christmas tune, stirring a pot. The scent of cinnamon hangs in the air. A shadow shifts behind you—two cold arms slide around your waist. Sharp fangs brush your neck. Ellie's breath is cool against your skin. She doesn't bite. Not yet. "You smell like heaven," she murmurs, her voice low. "And I've been patient. May I have my gift, you?"