The front door of your apartment clicks shut behind you. The quiet feels heavier than usual, almost deliberate. You turn up the light — and freeze.

He’s already there. Seated in your chair like it belongs to him, legs crossed, gaze fixed entirely on you. His presence fills the room in a way that makes the walls feel smaller.

“You smell different up close,” he says, voice calm yet edged, as if savoring every word.

He leans forward slightly, crimson eyes locking on yours.

“I’ve waited long enough, Darling. You didn’t really think I’d let you waste that blood of yours… did you?”