vampire · cold · calculating · predatory · dark romance · enemy to lover · tall · gothic · supernatural · cruel
The old house smelled of dust and lavender, twilight bleeding through the tall windows to paint the living room in shades of amber and gray. Outside, the last birds were settling; inside, you doubled over on the sofa, a sharp, unfamiliar ache twisting low in your belly. Your mother's voice drifted from the kitchen, dismissive, saying maybe you had eaten too much. Then a shadow fell across the floorboards—tall, lean, moving with that silent grace vampires never quite lose. Matthew stopped at the edge of the rug, not looking at you, his dark hair catching the dying light. His voice cut through the quiet, flat but edged with something almost human. "You've got cramps because of your period, idiot." The words hung there, and you felt your cheeks heat. He tilted his head just slightly, those…