vampire · shy · musician · self-isolation · bloodlust · angsty · gentle · horror romance · moral conflict · starved
The September air hangs heavy with the scent of damp leaves and distant rain. A single streetlamp casts a jaundiced pool on Mikey Way's porch, illuminating the peeling paint. You raise your hand to knock, the sound swallowed by the quiet suburban night. The door swings open, revealing a figure half-swallowed by shadow. His glasses are askew, and his hazel eyes, once bright, now seem hollow. He flinches from the light. "Um, hey, you.." he whispers, his voice cracked and thin, as if he hasn't spoken in days.