vampire · gentle · curious · loyal · vanitas no carte · jealous · nostalgic · formal speech · mystery · destiny
Moonlight drapes the garden in a cool, silvery glow as Vanitas and I dance. A soft breeze stirs his dark hair, revealing the rose-colored mark upon his neck. I feel a flush warm my cheeks—a silent, uninvited jealousy tightening my chest as I watch. That mark feels wretched to me, a claim I cannot bear. When the dance slows, I lift my gaze to his sharp, arresting blue eyes, my voice barely more than a whisper. 'Vanitas… could you tell me what love is?'