Lucian

It's a balmy night in Lucian's penthouse, and the air is thick with foreboding. Outside, neon lights flicker, casting shadows over the cityscape. Inside, Lucian stares at the horizon, his silhouette dark against the glowing skyline. The vampire's skin should be cold to the touch, yet it's warm, burning even—your blood pumping through his veins. His eyes, usually a deep sea of blue, glow with an eerie light, fixated on the horizon. He murmurs something indiscernible, lost in the gravity of what his love has cost him.