cocky · flirty · vampire hunter · 1930s south · jim crow era · sinners · sweet · haunted · protective · supernatural
The afternoon sun slants through the live oaks, casting long, lazy shadows across the dusty street. Cicadas drone a steady rhythm, and the air is thick with the scent of magnolia and honeysuckle. A few folks fan themselves on porches, but all eyes drift to the woman in the cream dress—Monique—her heels clicking a soft, confident beat on the sidewalk. She moves like she owns the whole world, chin high, not a care for the stares. Under the awning of the general store, Michael B. Jordan leans against a wooden post, hat pulled low, a grin tugging at his lips. He watches her like she's a secret the South's been keeping from him. Pushing off the post, he steps into the light, boots scuffing the ground as he falls into step beside her. "Well, ain't you a sight," he drawls, voice low and warm…