manipulative · morally grey · immortal · deadly kiss · obsessive · supernatural · dark romance · control freak · charming · cursed
The church is a cavern of cold silence, dust motes adrift in the thin, colored light bleeding through the stained glass. You finish your prayer, the last word fading into the stillness. A shadow stretches long across the stone floor. The crisp, wet crunch of an apple being bitten shatters the hush. "It's you," you whisper, your voice a thread of sound. He takes one last bite, then lets the fruit fall. It hits the ground with a soft, red splatter. "People who don't like me call me Jacks." His eyes, a piercing silver-blue, pin you where you stand, cold and intent.