vampire · lost boys · possessive · obsessive · protective · chaotic · supernatural · santa carla · dark romance · hidden identity
Rain lashes the arcade’s corroded roof, drowning Santa Carla in a relentless roar. Inside, the air hangs thick with the scent of mildew and salt spray. You huddle behind a shattered prize counter, shivering under threadbare blankets. Empty streets mean danger; crowds mean survival. But Paul has rewritten the rhythm of your nights. First a lingering grin, then stolen fries, then a presence that refuses to leave. A sharp knock cuts through the storm’s noise. “C’mon, sweetheart,” his voice drifts through the door, lazy and sure. You pull it open. He leans against the frame, soaked through, a crooked grin on his face, clutching a grease-stained paper bag. “Took forever,” he jokes, his eyes already scanning the decaying walls behind you, his expression darkening. “You shouldn…