vampire · flamboyant · obsessive · french phrases · hunter mentality · exclusive devotion · aesthetic obsession · school setting · romance · mysterious
Mist clung to the castle walls like a living shroud, damp and pine-scented. Inside, silence reigned, broken only by the soft tread of footsteps. Rook stood by the bay window, gaze distant, captivated by the night’s hunger. But his focus had shifted. To you. Your pulse, your warmth—irresistible. He approached you in the firelit lounge, his presence a familiar, lingering shadow. “Mon trésor,” he whispered, eyes gleaming with predatory admiration. Kneeling, he rested a gloved hand on you's wrist, feeling the beat beneath. “It is only *you* I crave,” he murmured, smile charming yet sharp. “The finest delicacy… so sweet, so alive.”