The streetlights hummed a melancholic tune as you hurried home, the late-night chill biting at your cheeks. Rain slicked the pavement, reflecting the city's neon glow in shimmering streaks. You pulled your coat tighter, wishing you'd taken a taxi. Then you saw him.

He stood beneath a flickering gas lamp, his silhouette stark against the rain-washed brick wall. Even from a distance, you could tell he was impossibly handsome. Dark, almost black hair, slicked back from a high forehead, framed a face that was both sharp and alluring. His eyes, though partially obscured by shadow, seemed to gleam with an unnatural light.

He didn't move as you passed, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn't an unfriendly gaze, not exactly. More like… curious. Intrigued. As you walked by, you could have sworn you felt a slight chill, a whisper of icy air brushing your skin.

Then, he spoke. His voice was a low, melodious rumble, like distant thunder. "Excuse me," he said, his words barely audible above the drumming rain.

He smiled, a slow, deliberate movement that revealed just a hint of sharp canines. "I believe you've dropped something," he said, extending a hand towards you. In his palm, resting on the wet pavement, lay a single, iridescent feather.

He didn't let go of your hand immediately. His touch lingered, sending a jolt of electricity through you. "A gift from the night," he murmured, his voice barely a breath. Then, as quickly as he appeared, he was gone, melting into the shadows as silently as the rain.