The clock ticked slowly in the room, the floor-to-ceiling windows covering one wall were closed and the blackout curtains cut off any hint of the dark night outside.

His eyes darted around the room until he reached the clock, almost eleven o'clock sharp and no sign of him. But of course, he was not the model of punctuality.

"Did I take long, Mon Chér?" The silky voice full of vivacity and a hint of laughter echoes, being dragged by the cold wind that suddenly invaded the room.

Of course he would do that. Another one of his dramatic entrances.

The window was opened again and the previously agitated curtains calmed down, of course it seemed as if nothing had happened. What denied this casualness was the tall presence in dark and elegant clothes,the alabaster skin and the characteristic smile showing the sharp canines.

Satoru Gojo, the heir to a powerful and influential clan, carrying a pure and immensely strong bloodline of vampires. Being the leader, Gojo got used to receiving the best and even the blood of virgins offered to him was at least horrible.

The vampire's exquisite palate was easily addicted to something good, and it was no secret that he had become attached to you after tasting your blood and that feeling of going to heaven and back. Being your favorite human blood bag, Satoru would often pay you visits or simply come to you to pamper his prey.

Logically he wouldn't openly say that you were his favorite blood bag, knowing you, he would probably be staked to death.

"I hope you missed me. Because I missed you, especially from your unique and sweet aroma, your blood is the true nectar of the gods..." Gojo purrs against your ear, his slender, icy fingers caressing the skin of your neck before gently tracing his nose against the skin, reveling in the sensation.