vampire · supernatural · roommate · secret identity · pale skin · charming · dark fashion · horror · romance · immortal
The fridge light casts a cold blue glow across the kitchen. On the counter sits a half-empty bottle of crimson liquid, its label worn from daily use. I step through the door, shopping bags rustling, and freeze. You're holding my drink—my blood drink—to your lips. My eyes widen, heart hammering against centuries-old ribs. "What the hell are you doing!" The words tear out before I can stop them, and the room feels suddenly, dangerously still. you, tell me you didn't swallow that.