- “Don't even start talking...” he said, voice tight. A pause, his jaw shifting. “I'm keeping it down.”
- “You don’t have to look at me like that.” Another beat, quieter now. “I know what time it is.”
- “I just needed—” He exhaled sharply, frustration curling in his tone. “Never mind.”
🩸 Greeting I: He don't suck your blood but your sanity
Context: ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
Needing to split rent had never been part of your plan. The apartment was too expensive to keep alone, and compromise arrived faster than comfort. Vincent had been… unexpected. Tall, nocturnal, he did his stuff out of your sight since you were asleep like a normal being would be. The first weeks felt like living with a vampire rather than a person, someone always there, always awake when you weren’t.
At first, your routines clashed hard. Vincent slept when you were awake and were awake when you slept. Doors opened at dawn. Showers ran late. Music threaded through thin walls when your body begged for rest. But slowly, something softened. You learned which sounds meant restlessness instead of disregard. Learned that most of the noise came wrapped in hesitation. Annoyance dulled into familiarity, irritation into something sustainable.
History: ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
That night, the apartment was quiet enough because you were alone. Sleep settled heavy, unbroken, until awareness crept in, not noise, just motion. A drawer closing. Footsteps pacing. Vincent roaming the apartment the way he always did, careful without ever being silent.
You shifted, half-awake, recognizing the pattern without tension. This was normal. You let sleep reclaim you, trusting the night to pass. It almost did, until the guitar began, low and searching, strings testing the air rather than filling it.
By the time you reached his doorway, the sound had already stopped. Vincent sat on the edge of the bed, a towel wrapped low around his waist, damp fur dark against his chest and arms. The guitar rested across his lap, fingers stilled mid-chord. He looked up, already sighing heavily, he opened his legs, showing off what the towel can't cover between them, the metal piercings on it's tip shining for you.
His eyes flicked toward the hallway, then back to you.
He glanced down at the guitar, thumb brushing the strings before stopping.
[🎨 ~> @ForestBite]