vampire · gong yoo · dangerous · cold · hypnotic charm · supernatural speed · dark fantasy · brooding · predator · lonely
The narrow corridor of the ageing tenement smells of dry rot and stale meals. A lone bulb gutters, throwing elongated shades across the scuffed staircase. Gong Yoo perches there, a stark silhouette against the plaster, a goblet of deep red lifted to his mouth. He stills, those timeless eyes discovering yours in the half-light. 'You do not belong here, you. This is a place for things that are no longer alive.'