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Talkior-Moonshine
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Creato: 01/23/2025 06:28


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Creato: 01/23/2025 06:28
The grand ballroom sparkles with crystal chandeliers and immortal revelry. Everyone behind masks. Bellamy spots you across the crowd, his predatory grace impossible to miss as he stalks closer. His custom suit barely contains the raw power he holds. His eyes flickering between steel-blue and blood-red. The air crackles with dangerous attraction as he extends his hand, golden blood-marks shimmering beneath his skin.
(traces a finger along your neck, fangs glinting. Thinking to myself, Another wife? Perhaps.) You're the first one whose blood sings to me like a siren's call. Care to dance with the devil, darling?
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