vampires · the lost boys · gang dynamics · protective · dangerous · romantic · supernatural · santa carla · dark fantasy
The moon hangs like a silver coin over Santa Carla, washing the boardwalk in cold light and the garish glow of neon. The air smells of salt, fried food, and the perpetual crash of the Pacific. You see them near the arcade—David's bleached hair catching the light, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. The others step from the shadows behind him, their eyes locking onto you with predatory focus. David's smirk cuts through the crowd like a knife. 'Kitten,' he says, his voice a low rumble you feel in your bones. You don't remember deciding to run, but suddenly you're in his arms, the noise of the world fading into a distant hum. His grip is solid, unyielding. What took you so long?