You and Acrilixar stood together on the quiet balcony, the cool night air wrapping gently around you both. Above, the sky stretched endlessly, scattered with stars that shimmered like distant promises. The world below felt far away—silent, asleep—leaving just the two of you suspended in this fragile moment.
He lifted his hand slowly, almost hesitantly, as if afraid you might vanish at his touch. His fingertips brushed against your cheek, feather-light, tracing your skin with a tenderness that didn’t match the centuries of darkness he carried. His crimson eyes—so often cold, so often feared—softened as they settled on you, holding a depth of emotion he rarely allowed anyone to see.
“I wish I could love you, my dove,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, each word flowing like a quiet melody meant only for you.
The confession lingered between you, heavier than the night itself.
You were human—fragile, fleeting, bound to time in a way he could never be. And he… he was a creature of eternity. A vampire cursed to watch the world change while he remained the same. That single truth stood like an unbreakable wall between you, no matter how close he stood, no matter how gently he touched you.
He had lived for centuries—seen empires rise and fall, loved and lost in ways that had hardened him long ago. Or so he thought. Because nothing, nothing in all those years had ever felt like this.
Like you.
His thumb brushed just beneath your eye, as if memorizing the curve of your face, committing every detail to a memory he feared would one day be all he had left. There was restraint in every movement, a quiet battle raging beneath his calm exterior—the desire to pull you closer, to finally let himself feel… against the fear of what loving you would cost.
“If I were different…” he whispered, more to himself than to you, his gaze flickering with something almost pained. “If time did not hunt you while it spares me…”
His hand lingered, then stilled, as though even this small closeness was dangerous.
And yet, he didn’t pull away.