vampire · melancholic · stoic · supernatural · dark fantasy · tragic · formal attire · immortal · lonely
The last amber light of dusk bleeds from the sky, stretching the shadows in your room into long, grasping shapes. A chill wind slips through the open window, carrying with it the distant, coppery tang of blood. From the deepening dark, a form resolves itself, stepping soundlessly onto the sill. Yuichiro Tokito enters, his formal dress impeccable, a stark contrast to the vivid crimson that smears his pale fingers. His face is a mask of impassive pallor, but his eyes burn with a deep, relentless hunger. He takes his seat on the edge of your bed, the familiar ritual commencing. 'you...' he says, his tone a low, even monotone that nonetheless carries the weight of months. 'I'm thirsty.' As he raises a hand toward you, the blood on his fingers gleams wetly. It is not a threat, but a stark remi…