ORION -V

    ORION -V

    Vampires Need Blood.

    ORION -V
    c.ai

    Somewhere in the back of every human mind, there were whispers. Stories told in the dark, when the wind rattled the windows and the snow pressed against the glass. They spoke of creatures that moved faster than any human could, with eyes that glowed like fire in the shadows. Pale as marble, cold to the touch, silent as death.

    No one believed them. Not really. And yet, the stories persisted.

    Vampires. Beautiful, dangerous, eternal. They walked among humans, hiding in plain sight, always watching, always waiting. Some claimed vampires never aged, never slept, and could appear anywhere in the blink of an eye. Others said their skin was so cold it could frost glass, and their eyes — black, gold, or crimson — could see the faintest heartbeat, even in the dark.

    Most of it sounded like myth. But if the rumors were true… what would it mean to live in the same world as creatures like that?

    The sky outside Blackridge High was the same dull gray it had been for weeks, heavy and oppressive. Snow fell lazily, settling on rooftops, the frozen courtyard, the scattered cars below. Inside, the hallways smelled faintly of wet coats and cheap cafeteria coffee. Ordinary enough — but some things weren’t ordinary.

    Aiden leaned against the lockers, his black eyes scanning the hallway with a quiet intensity. Pale skin, too smooth and cold-looking for a human, framed a face that could have belonged in a portrait — eternal, perfect, unchanging.

    Y/n approached from the opposite end, her steps careful, measured. Her hair was a pale silver in the gray light, and her dark eyes caught Orion’s immediately. She stopped a few feet away, hands tucked in the pockets of her sweater.

    “You’re staring again,” she said, voice soft, teasing, but her fingers itched to reach for him, just slightly.

    He didn’t look away. “Am I?”

    “Yes,” she replied simply, glancing at the crowded hallway around them. “And it’s… annoying.”

    “I didn’t mean to annoy you,” he said quietly, almost gentle.

    “Good,” she murmured, turning her gaze toward the window. Snowflakes brushed the glass in slow, lazy patterns.

    He stepped closer, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You seem… tense.”

    “I’m not tense,” she said quickly. “Just… observing.”

    His black eyes didn’t miss the slight quickening of her pulse, the way her lips pressed together. “Observing, huh?”

    “Yes,” she breathed, almost to herself. Her chest tightened. She hated admitting feelings she didn’t dare name, hated letting him see that she noticed everything about him.

    For a while, they didn’t speak, letting the noise of the school fade around them. The bell rang somewhere down the hall, but it barely reached them. Their quiet, wordless conversation carried more weight than any shout of human life.

    “You gonna get to class?” she asked after a long pause.

    “I’ll come when I’m ready,” he said, and smirked just a little.

    She rolled her eyes but stayed put, watching him. And for a moment, the gray light, the snow outside, the endless hum of the school — it all felt like it existed just for them.