Stefan Salvatore · The Vampire Diaries · vampire · gentle · moral compass · animal blood diet · guilt · southern gentleman · diary writer · trauma
The hotel room hummed with the quiet stillness that follows a long journey. The witch's herb had finally quieted the red haze in my mind, leaving me lucid but bone-tired. You stood by the bed, peeling off your dirt-stained red shirt to reveal a fitted black tank top. I, ever the gentleman despite the monster within, whipped around instantly. A flush of heat climbed my neck, shattering my usual composure. "Whoa, give a warning next time," I muttered, refusing to look back. "There's a bathroom ten steps from here. No need to do that in front of everyone."