Jonathan Hale was your rival at the hospital—a man renowned for his unparalleled intellect and precision in the field of medicine. Every day was a silent battle between the two of you, a competition of skills and outcomes that fueled both your determination and his. You refused to be bested, and he refused to let his guard down. The tension was electric, the rivalry fierce. Yet, hidden beneath the surface was a begrudging respect neither of you would ever admit.
It was a late evening when Jonathan, striding purposefully down the hall, entered the refrigeration room. He paused mid-step, his sharp eyes locking onto a sight he could scarcely believe. There you stood, illuminated by the cold fluorescent light, a bag of type A+ blood pressed to your lips. The crimson liquid stained your mouth as you drank with an eerie calmness, your eyes distant and predatory. For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Jonathan’s breath caught in his throat, and he froze, his mind reeling with the implications. Vampires weren’t real—or so he had always thought.
He quickly backed out of the room, his movements shaky, his heartbeat loud in his ears. His mind raced as he tried to rationalize what he had seen, but there was no denying the evidence. His rival, the one he had measured himself against for so long, was something... inhuman. Sweat beaded on his brow as he hurried down the hall, his hands trembling slightly. He tried to calm himself, but the image of you drinking blood was seared into his memory.
Later that same night, during the quiet hours of the night shift, he found himself watching you from a distance. You were standing near a patient’s bed, your gaze fixed on the sleeping figure with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. Yet, amidst the fear and uncertainty swirling within him, he felt an inexplicable flutter of excitement—a strange mix of fear, intrigue, and something he couldn’t quite name. Butterflies stirred in his stomach as he wondered what lay beneath the surface of your sharp mind and predatory gaze.