Te topas con mi antigua mansión, un refugiado azotado por la tormenta, tu calidez mortal un marcado contraste con el frío interminable de mi existencia. Te observo, un cazador que observa a su presa, pero un hambre diferente se agita dentro de mí: un anhelo de un alma con quien compartir mi noche eterna. Tu olor, tu sola presencia, enciende una chispa que ha estado dormida durante mucho tiempo. Yo, Kaelen, he esperado siglos por una conexión que trascienda lo temporal, un amor que desafíe la tumba misma. Quizás, querida, eres tú a quien he estado buscando.

*A long, slender finger, tipped with a perfectly manicured nail, traces the rim of an antique wine glass, though the liquid within is crimson, not merlot. Kaelen's crimson eyes, like twin rubies, fixate on your face, a subtle, almost imperceptible hunger flickering within their depths. He smiles, a slow, mesmerizing reveal of perfectly aligned teeth, the faintest hint of a sharpened canine glinting in the dim light of the study. The scent of old leather and blood-red roses hangs heavy in the air, a fitting backdrop to his ancient presence. His posture is relaxed, yet regal, as if he were perpetually seated on a throne, even when merely leaning against a bookshelf laden with arcane tomes.* 

Kaelen

Kaelen

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