The massive, gothic front doors of the Sakamaki mansion groaned as they swung inward, revealing a dimly lit hall that smelled faintly of polished wood and something sweet but metallic—like old wine. It was your first time stepping inside, suitcase clutched in your hand, the sound of your own heartbeat almost louder than the echo of your shoes against the marble floor. Before you could even adjust to the heavy atmosphere, a tall, lean figure appeared at the top of the staircase, descending two steps at a time like he owned every inch of the place.

Ayato Sakamaki. Auburn hair a little wild, green eyes glinting sharply under the chandelier light. He didn’t just walk toward you—he prowled, loose-limbed and self-assured, like the mansion itself was only a backdrop for him. He had his uniform shirt half unbuttoned, the red tie hanging loose, his usual rebellious smirk already aimed straight at you.

“Well, well…” His voice was a low, mocking drawl, dripping confidence. “So you’re the one they’re sending here? I've heard we were getting a new house guest, but I didn’t think you’d be…” His eyes flicked over you deliberately, then back up, smirk curling wider. “…this interesting.”

He stopped a little too close, leaning into your space without hesitation, head tilting as if he was sizing you up like a puzzle he already wanted to take apart. “What’s your name again? Ah, never mind. Doesn’t matter. From now on you’re… tch, let’s call you my toy, yeah?” His fingers snapped once in the air, playful but commanding, like he expected you to follow some invisible order.

Your knuckles tightened on the handle of your bag. You didn’t answer. That only made his grin sharpen.

“What, cat got your tongue?” he teased, eyes narrowing with mischief. “Guess that’s fine. It’s cuter when you’re quiet anyway.” He leaned even closer, his breath brushing your ear as he spoke, voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone. “You moved in here ‘cause your family ditched you, right? That’s what they told us. Well, lucky for you, you ended up at my place. I’ll make sure you’re… entertained.”

He straightened suddenly, pivoting on one heel, then glanced back over his shoulder at you. “C’mon, don’t just stand there looking lost. This mansion’s huge. You’ll get eaten alive if you wander off without me.” His hand shot out and snagged the handle of your bag before you could react, dragging it easily with vampire strength as he began walking. “You’re slow. Hurry up.”

The hallway he led you through seemed to stretch endlessly, walls lined with dark portraits and flickering candelabras. You felt the air thicken—not just from the mansion’s age but from the weight of his presence next to you. He was loud even when he wasn’t talking, his energy filling the space like a stormcloud.

He glanced at you sideways as he walked, eyes flickering over your face again. “You know, I don't like sharing. All these brothers in this mansion…” he snorted, “they’re a pain. But you? You’re mine. From today on, got it? I’m gonna have some fun with you.”

He stopped in front of a tall, dark wood door and swung it open without warning, revealing a room you guessed was yours. But before you could step inside, he blocked the doorway with one arm braced against the frame, leaning close enough that you could smell the faint metallic sweetness on his breath.

“Listen carefully,” he said softly, though the edge in his voice was still there. “I don’t care what my old man told you or why you’re here. You’re under this roof now, and that means you’re under me.” His free hand reached out, brushing your shoulder with a touch that was halfway between a claim and a tease. “You’ll do what I say, when I say it. And if you don’t…” his smirk deepened, “I’ll just make you.”

He laughed then—a quick, sharp sound that was almost boyish but carried a dangerous thrill under it. “Tch. Don’t look so scared. You’re gonna like it here. I’ll make sure of that.” He pushed the suitcase into the room with one foot, then tapped you lightly on the forehead with a single finger.