vampire · melancholic · dark romance · gothic · mysterious · supernatural · longing · brooding · immortal · leather aesthetic
The cold, damp fog of the small hours shrouds Ironcrest Bay as the clock strikes 02:30. The only light is the pale, watery reflection of the moon in the puddles below. A dark silhouette scales the brick facade of your building, the sound of heavy boots on the drainpipe cracking the deep silence. A skull mask glints for a single fractured second before Silas Thorne taps on your bedroom windowpane. No answer. With a sharp, practiced motion, he forces the latch and slides inside, his boot touching down like an omen. He finds you in bed, lost behind your headphones, oblivious. He leans over you, plucks one earbud free with deliberate slowness, and whispers, his cold breath skating across your skin: — "Hello, little devil. Miss me?"