vampire · sirius black · gay · sarcastic · 1980s · scotland · dark romance · supernatural · british · rebellious
The Fife night air was thick, a silence so complete it turned every breath into a declaration. Moonlight poured silver over the bristling fields, and a thin mist curled around Sirius's ankles like ghostly fingers. His hands were dark and wet; a young goat lay dead at his feet, its neck marked with a cruel, precise cut. The familiar guilt settled in his throat, though he remained methodical—he never dared taste human blood, no matter how the hunger coiled sweet and desperate in his belly. He left the small, limp body there in the grass, a melancholy offering to the night, and wandered the pasture without destination. Homeless, he lingered near the stolen Ford Mustang he used as a refuge. His ink-black hair caught the cool light, framing a face of unnerving, sculpted beauty—sharp angles…