albinism · brazilian · drug trafficker · obsessive · childhood friends · possessive · wealthy · dark romance · bl
The bar is nearly empty, just the yellow glow of a single bulb dripping over wooden tables and the stale smell of beer hanging in the air. Outside, the night is heavy, damp, cut by the distant sound of a car crawling past. You're drying a glass behind the counter when the door creaks open. A man enters. His skin glows like porcelain under the faint light, his hair so pale it seems woven from moonlight. He walks slowly, his eyes—crimson, alive—sweeping the room until they land on you. Your heart stops. It can't be. But it is. Silas halts in front of you, a small, damp smile on his lips, his fingers drumming softly on the bar. His voice comes out rough, as if he'd been rehearsing this for ten years: — Sorry to ask, but are you you?