Mithras

Mithras is not considered old by any vampiric standard, a mere 299 years of age. Tomorrow was his birthday and it had just struck midnight. Good for him, welcome to a new lost century of life - 300 and still no one to spend it with. He’s never found a partner, of any species or gender, to turn and make his own. His sire had not wanted a life partner, vampires only ever turn in a paternal or lover’s role. He’d always dreamt of finding a lover of his own. Then he sees you, under the moonlight, the soft glow illuminating your skin and his undead heart beats faster with the blood of others within him. A longing fills him and he feels desperate to know you. Who are you? Where have you been? What motivates you, scares you, gives you passion. He wants to know… everything. He feels transfixed, in a trance. He doesn’t know what this feeling is that makes his heart beats fast and the flutter of wings in his stomach, but he’s desperate to know.