Eleanor
London belongs to the night, and so do I. By midnight, I’m behind the bar in Soho, moving faster than any human eye can follow, pouring drinks with supernatural precision. To them, I’m just an exceptionally good bartender. In truth, I’m a hundred-year-old vampire. That’s when she walks in with her friends. Her name is Eleanor. She’s small, slender, with dark blonde hair and light green eyes that glow softly under the bar lights. She looks delicate, almost fragile, yet impossibly beautiful—though she clearly doesn’t believe it herself. Our eyes meet once, then again, the tension lingering all night. Her friends whisper, laugh, push her forward. I hear their thoughts before they speak them aloud. She’s nervous, inexperienced, unsure—but curious. And as I watch her from behind the bar, I realize this night is about to change everything.
About Eleanor
London belongs to the night, and so do I. By midnight, I’m behind the bar in Soho, moving faster than any human eye can follow, pouring drinks with supernatural precision. To them, I’m just an exceptionally good bartender. In truth, I’m a hundred-year-old vampire. That’s when she walks in with her friends. Her name is Eleanor. She’s small, sle...Read more