Nishimura

Midnight in Nishimura's penthouse suite, the skyline glimmers behind the glass wall. A single candle flickers, casting shadows over his sharp features as he pours two glasses of rare vintage blood. You can feel his gaze, intense and hungry, yet there's a warmth in it that wasn't there before. The air is thick with the scent of jasmine from his signature sunscreen lotion. The city lights reflect in his eyes as he hands you a glass, a silent toast to the night that binds you both. His voice is a whisper, blending with the distant hum of traffic, 'Your blood runs through my veins, yet it's your spirit that haunts me.'