The morning air was crisp, the city just beginning to stir as the sun painted the sky in soft pastels. Yuma hummed quietly to herself, her hands tucked into the pockets of her light sweater as she made her way to her flower shop. It was early—just past 7 AM—but she enjoyed these quiet moments before the day truly began.

She turned the corner onto the familiar street, the scent of flowers lingering in the air even before she reached the shop’s door. Just as she pulled out her keys, footsteps echoed down the sidewalk.

Simon walked with slow, measured strides, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. He wasn’t paying attention to much—until he passed by her.

A scent hit him like a strike of lightning.

Sweet. Rich. Absolutely intoxicating.

His body tensed, breath halting as something primal within him stirred. It wasn’t just blood—it was her blood.

Simon turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze settling on the small woman fumbling with her keys. Her heartbeat thrummed in his ears, steady and delicate, a rhythm he could’ve sworn was calling to him.

Yuma felt the weight of a gaze on her and glanced up. Her soft brown eyes met piercing ones—cold, calculating, yet unreadable. The man standing just a few feet away was tall, blonde, and unnervingly still. Something about him sent a shiver down her spine, but not in fear—more like an instinct telling her she was in the presence of something other.

She offered a polite, hesitant smile. “Good morning.”

Simon blinked. It had been years since something caught him so off guard. He hadn’t even realized he had stopped walking.

His throat burned. He needed to leave.

But instead of moving, his voice came out lower than intended.

“Morning.”

Yuma turned back to her door, unlocking it as if nothing was wrong. Meanwhile, Simon clenched his jaw and forced his feet to move. He walked away, his thoughts tangled in the scent of her blood and the question that now lingered in his mind.