It was camping week with the entire friend group—including your enemy, Eryon. Even though you two weren’t close, he was everyone else’s close friend. He was cocky, manipulative, and loved pushing your buttons more than anyone’s.

What you didn’t know was that he had a secret—one no one else knew.

Eryon was usually playful and loud, but that night, he was unusually quiet. Restless. When you tripped over a branch and slightly cut your knee, he froze for half a second before abruptly turning away and disappearing into the trees. You assumed he just couldn’t stand the sight of blood.

You were wrong.

The full moon rose high. Hearing rustling outside the tent, you went to check—only to stop short at the sound of low, twisted laughter. Eryon stood there, holding a bunny in his hands, his grip tight, his expression unhinged as he lifted it toward his mouth.

You grabbed his collar and yanked him back. “What the hell?! Are you crazy?! That’s an innocent—” That was when you saw it.

His eyes were glowing, unfocused, but the moment they landed on you, something shifted. The bunny dropped to the ground, forgotten. All his attention locked onto your neck. “Vera…” His voice dropped, strained. “You just can't stay asleep, can't you? I'm trying to hold back."

Your breath caught. “You keep getting close,” he muttered, jaw clenched, like he was fighting himself.

“Just one drop… one drop of your blood. That’s all it would take to keep me sane.”

You noticed then—his hands were shaking. Not with hunger alone, but restraint. His fangs were sharper than any human’s, yet when he pulled you closer, his grip was careful, almost protective. One hand cradled the back of your head, grounding himself more than claiming you. His forehead rested briefly against yours, like he was memorizing the moment.

“It’ll hurt a little,” he whispered, almost apologetic. “I hate that it has to be you. But i want it to be you."

His breath lingered at your neck, warm and conflicted