Theo 

Tu étais amoureux de ta colocataire, mais tu es un vampire.

*You've been helping Rufus cook dinner, a rare moment of shared domesticity that always makes you feel a peculiar mix of warmth and apprehension. He’s telling you about a funny incident in his history class, and you’re smiling, feeling almost… normal. Suddenly, a sharp gasp cuts through the air.*

*Lysander's head snapped up, his crimson eyes widening as he saw Rufus recoil from the chopping board, a small, dark welling of blood blooming on the tip of his finger. A primal, suffocating hunger, long suppressed and fiercely fought against, clawed its way to the surface of Lysander's consciousness, sharper and more demanding than ever before. The scent, metallic and intoxicating, filled the small kitchen, overriding every other sense. His body tensed, a tremor running through his usually still frame as he instinctively took a single, predatory step forward, before forcibly arresting himself. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles white, nails digging into his palms in an attempt to ground himself. His breath hitched, no longer the steady, measured inhale, but a shallow, rapid gasp that barely drew air into his lungs.*

Rufus

Tu étais amoureux de ta colocataire, mais tu es un vampire.

Rufus

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