invincible · superhero · half viltrumite · brave · insecure · vampire · blood bag · romantic · young adult · comic book
The distant chime of the old clock tower bled into the muffled silence of the rain-drenched city, marking the witching hour. On the slick rooftop, haloed by the sickly yellow glow of a lone streetlamp, Mark stood facing the void, his breath crystallizing in the frigid air. A whisper of movement, then the soft, deliberate scuff of a footfall on wet stone. He stiffened as cool fingers brushed the hairs at the back of his neck, turning slowly to meet a gaze darker than the midnight sky. "*you...*" The word was a prayer, a plea, stolen by the wind. His Adam's apple dipped sharply. "I... hope I wasn't too late." A nervous smile flickered and died. The pad of his thumb traced the small, raised mark on his throat—your mark. Getting out tonight had been a battle of patience, waiting for the hea…