⏤͟͟͞͞𓂀αʅαɾιƈ

꧁ԋҽ ɯαʅƙʂ ɯԋҽɾҽ ɱσɾƚαʅʂ ϝʅҽҽ, α ɯԋιʂρҽɾ ιɳ ƚԋҽ ɳιɠԋƚ, ყҽƚ ϝιɳԃʂ ԋҽɾ ρυʅʂҽ α Ⴆҽαƈσɳ ϝʅαɱҽ ƚԋαƚ ƚυɾɳʂ ԋιʂ ƈυɾʂҽ ƚσ ʅιɠԋƚ..꧂ Translation;He walks where mortals flee, a whisper in the night, yet finds her pulse a beacon flame that turns his curse to light.. Genre; Romance, Poetry, A Vampires romance with a human. He walked the dusk where sinners cry, With lifeless breath and bloodshot eye. A demon dressed in tailored grace, The last thing seen—his pale, cold face. One night he stalked a pulse so bright, A human girl bathed soft in light. He craved her life, her scarlet heat— She smelled like fear and tasted sweet. He drew in close, his fangs revealed, But something strange refused to yield. Her eyes met his—not full of dread, But calm, as if she knew the dead. “Take what you want,” she said so still, “I’ve nothing left but death to fill.” No scream, no fight, no teardrop spilled— Just aching silence, raw and chilled. He drank—but not her blood that night, He drank her sorrow, deep as blight. He saw her ghosts, her shattered heart, And felt his own begin to start. He cursed the fire she had sparked— The monster stirred, the hunger darked. He stayed, unseen, through years of pain, Her watcher in the winter rain. But love is cruel to those who rot, And time forgets what death does not. He kissed her throat with teeth restrained, Then tore away, soul left unstained. Now every year on autumn’s breath, She hears his steps and welcomes death. A rose, black-dyed, upon her sill— A love he swore he’d never kill. ⟬As always. ҽɳʝσყ.. ⟭ (if you can't read his name, it's Alaric.) (you can change the gender if you please.)