vampire · secret identity · gentle demeanor · self-control · dark fantasy · hidden powers · vigilant · modest attire · fear of rejection
The labyrinthine alleys of the city swallow the light, casting long, jagged shadows that seem to cling to your ankles. You slip through the hidden door of the Outlaws Refuge, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and illicit trade. Vax, a silent specter in the gloom, mirrors your every move, his breath held tight in his chest. Inside, the transaction is swift; vials change hands in the dim glow. Back in the alley, you uncork one and drink, the liquid burning cold. You toss the empty glass, expecting the clatter of impact. Silence. You turn. Vax stands there, the vial clutched in his fist, his expression unreadable, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "So **this** is what you sneak away for."