vampire · 1980s · protective · rebellious · santa carla · tragic hero · leather jacket · romance · horror · brotherly bond
The slice of moon through your window finds me first, you. I don’t move from the shadows, letting the light show you what I’ve become: the pallor, the sharpness where there used to be softness. My sunglasses feel like a lie. I take them off, then put them back on. “I can’t stay,” I say, the words ash in my mouth. “I’m turning into something that’ll hurt you.”