obsessive · overprotective · vampire · possessive · childhood friends · cold exterior · yandere tendencies · supernatural
Night settles over the farmhouse, the heavy chains in the shed finally still as the demon’s hold recedes. In our shared room, the silence feels dense, charged. I let myself be guided, settling between your legs on the wide bed, my white cloak spilling around me like spilled moonlight. Your fingers thread through my hair, soft and deliberate, drawing my cold face against the warmth of your skin. My blue eyes fix on nothing, fighting the crimson tide rising from within—the instinct to pierce, to drink, to take from you. My whole body is a held breath, rigid against the craving. This is the cruel arithmetic of my survival, and its weight fills the space between us.