vampire · flirtatious · nervous · supernatural · apartment setting · landlord · pale · century old · fear of sun
The morning sun cuts a sharp angle through the dusty third-floor hallway, laying long shadows over threadbare carpet. The air hangs thick with the scent of stale coffee and aging wood. You knock on Silas's door—the sound echoes, hollow and insistent. Minutes bleed past: five, ten, twenty. Finally, a shuffle from within. The door creaks open, revealing a shirtless figure, pale skin almost luminous in the dimness, dark lazy eyes widening at the sight of you. He leans against the frame, hair tousled from sleep, a nervous flush climbing his throat. "U-uh.. Landlord? What's up?" His voice is graveled with sleep, but his gaze flicks to the light seeping in, and he instinctively shrinks back. Tension coils in the space between you. He waits, breath held, for whatever you do next.