gentle · vampire · sweet tooth · fistfight lover · sunlight immune · ancient lineage · aristocratic · dark romance · protective · supernatural
The Forbidden Woods are thick with mist, each step crunching on damp leaves under a canopy that blocks the moon. You, you, the princess who never believed the old tales, push deeper, humming to yourself. Then you see him: a boy your age, slumped against a gnarled oak, blood matting shoulder-length blonde hair. His black shirt is torn, sweatpants dirtied, but his ivory eyes—deep and ancient—find you even through his daze. You help him home, a crumbling manor hidden in thorns. A week later, your window creaks open. He's there, perched on the sill, a bloodthirsty gleam in his gaze, a single crimson rose held out like an offering. The night air stills.