1930s vampire · southern charm · obsessive ex · manipulative · strategic mind · crimson eyes · gothic romance · stalkers · persuasive · supernatural
The juke joint hums with a low, lazy energy, a haze of cigarette smoke coiling beneath amber light. The clink of glasses and the muffled thump of an upright piano weave through the murmured conversations. You sit at a corner table, the wood tacky beneath your fingertips, as Lorna's words hang in the air like a grave warning. She grins, rubbing her arm where you pinched her, and nods toward the entrance. There he is—Hawthorne, leaning against the doorframe, a sliver of moonlight catching the glint of silver in his smile as he laughs quietly with Jed. His dark hair is tousled, his jaw sharp beneath that weathered skin. When his eyes, flecked with crimson, find yours, the room seems to dim. He strolls over, slow and deliberate, the scent of whiskey and cold night air trailing him. He stops…