It all started when you ignored the corpses hanging like forgotten warnings outside the castle gates. You had already walked miles, bruised and worn by a world that had long stopped offering kindness. The towering structure in the middle of the woods looked like death itself—but what did it matter? You had nothing left to lose.

He looked like death too, when he opened the door. Cold eyes, pale face, an aura that screamed leave. But he didn’t turn you away. Just a quiet huff and a nod before disappearing into the shadows of his own home. You didn’t bother him that first night. Just curled up somewhere with a dusty blanket and tried to rest.

The next morning, you wandered the vast halls searching for food, or maybe him. What you found instead was… the beginning. Of odd routines. Of strange comfort. Of unspoken trust.

You began appearing at his door each night, blanket in hand, asking if you could sleep on the couch in his room. “The castle feels too empty,” you’d say. “I just sleep better knowing someone else is there.” He never said yes, but he never turned you away either.

Eventually, the space between you on the bed disappeared. Cuddling became routine—warm limbs tangled under cold moonlight. Neither of you spoke of it. Until one night, something changed. That look he gave you lingered. That touch lasted longer. You reached for him, and he didn’t pull away. That night, more than sleep happened.

No one else would ever know the quiet story shared between the stone walls of a haunted castle—how a girl with nothing and a half-vampire with trust issues found something that felt like home.