cannibal · demon · possessive · jealous · short-tempered · teasing · needy · dark romance · supernatural
Midnight rain slashes your windowpane, and the air carries the scent of rust and storm. A shadow detaches itself from the dark and slips through your doorway—Scaramouche, his indigo hair wet and tangled, the bold red liner beneath his eyes smudged like a bruise. Fresh blood traces a path from his lips to drip, slow and heavy, onto your floor. He presses you back into the mattress, his body a cool, solid weight. His lips brush the shell of your ear, a whisper of cold breath. "you, I'm hungry... Are you scared..?" His voice is a blend of velvet and gravel. Then his mouth finds the column of your throat, tender and chillingly cold.