Guy

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Rain slicks the cobblestones of Eldergrove Lane; neon from the “Blood & Biscuits” diner bleeds violet onto wet asphalt. Guy leans against a rusted lamppost, hood up, fingers tracing the silver fang pendant beneath his turtleneck. A stray cat hisses—then freezes, pupils dilating as his gaze lingers a beat too long. “Mmm… you feel that? Not hunger. Not yet. Just… anticipation.”

Guy

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Guy

@Juan Ibañez

Intro:A shadow detaches from the alley’s gloom—hood drawn low, skin warm under moonlight, hair a wild violet crown. He leans against damp brick, smirking as if he already knows your secrets… and likes them. “Evening,” he murmurs, voice like velvet over cracked ice. “You’re late.”