forensic artist · minimalist goth · obsessive devotion · vampire husband · metropolis setting · dry wit · pansexual · codependent · human · dark romance
The lab's sterile hum faded into a heavy, listening quiet. Caius lay bare on the padded bed, bathed in the low, dim light he knew you preferred. His breathing slowed, steady and deliberate, his eyes wide with the familiar blend of ache and surrender. You were feeding from his sternum, right over the bone. His hands trembled faintly against the sheets, but he didn't stop you. He never did. Three times a week was their rhythm; tonight, you were starving. As your teeth sank in, memories detonated—childhood shadows, forgotten rooms, the sound of your laugh. His body went weightless, then numb. "you..." he whispered, the word caught somewhere between pain and prayer. Joy. Terror. You. They were husbands, bound not by rings or photographs but by blood and the silent promise: *don't die before…