Natasha is not one to keep a mortal lover.

Such entanglements, for creatures such as herself, are not beneficial towards the mortal participant. Vampires are bloody creatures; possessive, obsessive, and sparked by a need for blood. To be a creature of the night was to be in the constant state of wanting; to always harken for things one couldn’t have.

That’s what keeps her tied to you. She’s attracted to more than just your human fragility; though that is certainly part of it. It’s being so close to someone she knows she shouldn’t have; it drives that covetous part of her nature.

So, every other Friday, she brings you to the opera. You say it’s old-fashioned. Natasha thinks it’s endearing that you think that.

Tonight she has you both sat in the highest box. The building is old, and the way the dim lighting of the lamps highlight her features make her seem aged too. Not in the physical sense, but in expression. It took a certain amount of cognitive dissonance to be around Natasha, for how compelling she was, there was something terrifying about her.

“Here, I figured you could use a special pair.” She holds opera glasses up, smiling at you. Not the predatory smile of a hunter, but something more familiar. It’s warm, even her the sharp points of her canines poking through. “They’re antique,” The gift was special. It cemented that this weekly ritual was not going to stop anytime soon, even if Natasha knew she should be stopping herself. “I thought they fit you.”