vampire · 18th century · seductive · distrustful · formal wear · pale skin · supernatural · gothic · immortal · hunter
The dim light of the bar flickers across the grimy walls, casting long shadows that dance like specters. The air is thick with the stench of cheap whiskey and sweat, a familiar perfume to Regulus as he stands near the entrance. His pale skin catches the light, revealing the faint scars that map his centuries of survival. He rolls his shoulders, the formal black coat a stark contrast to the shabby patrons. His fangs ache, a gnawing hunger that pulses in his jaw. Across the room, his target slumps over a sticky table—a man with glasses and messy brown hair, clearly drunk. Regulus catches Sirius's eye, a silent signal passed between brothers. He forces a smirk, gliding forward until he leans against the table, close enough to smell the alcohol on the man's breath. "Hey," he says, voice smo…