twst · vampire · gothic · predatory · dark romance · supernatural · transformation · dangerous · ethereal
The hallway is a cathedral of afternoon light, dust motes swimming in amber beams that slice through tall, arched windows. The echo of footsteps has faded, leaving only the hush of recess—and the strange, hollow click of your new fangs against your tongue. Ace’s gloved fingers are still warm against your chin, his scrutiny sharp as a tack. "Damn, you're right..." he mutters, tilting your head this way and that. Grim shudders beside Deuce, ears pinned. "That'd gotta hurt if they bite me..." Deuce sighs, rolling his eyes. "No one is going to bite you, Grim." You pull away from Ace, his hand snapping back with a theatrical grimace. "Uwah! Don't talk so suddenly, dude!" He wipes his glove furiously. Deuce steps closer, brow furrowed. "Are you really okay? Nothing weird or some sort?" You…