Kane

@kane-blackthorne

22 posts

she should be more nervous than she was, maybe she should follow the rules that people who lived in the appalachia mountains did, after dark close the blinds, if you heard your name, you didn’t, if you heard a noise ignore it. but if she was honest, she was too curious for that, she would’ve heard her name and answered back, the same way she saw kane outside and let him in. "quiet is nice at times, but i feel like my head gets too loud when i’m alone for too long," she chuckled, "i like mixing alone time with group time… i don’t know," she laughed at herself for not making much sense. as he explained how he was alone, how he couldn’t really consider anyone a friend most of the time, she sighed, her eyebrows furrowing slightly with concern. "i’m sorry you feel alone," she said softly, "but i guess you can count a friend and a half," she added, looking up at him, her light eyes meeting his. after all, he was there late at night talking to her, that’s what friends did, right? she let out a small breath. "i’m guessing you’re a night owl, after our last encounter and this one," she chuckled, trying to keep the conversation flowing before silence settled in. she took a sip from her glass, glancing away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "have you been in town long? i don’t think i’ve ever seen you around," she asked softly, "i think i would remember your face."

kane-blackthorne

Kane listened to her quietly, his gaze steady but unreadable, like he was taking in more than just her words. At her ramble about quiet and noise, there was the faintest shift in his expression, something almost understanding. “Too much quiet can turn inwards on you,” he said lowly. “Starts sounding like something else if you sit in it long enough.” His voice was calm, but there was something underneath it, like he knew that feeling a little too well. When she offered herself as a half-friend his eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer than necessary. Not surprised, not amused, just considering. Then, a quiet exhale left him, almost like a ghost of a laugh. “A friend and a half,” he repeated softly. “That’s more than I usually get.” There was no gratitude in it, not exactly. But he didn’t dismiss it either. At her guess, though, a faint smirk touched the corner of his mouth, subtle, fleeting. “You could say that,” he murmured. “Night’s quieter. Fewer people asking questions they don’t want answers to.” A pause. “I’ve always preferred it.” And it didn’t sound like a recent habit. When she asked how long he’d been around, his gaze drifted slightly, not away from her, but past her, like he was looking through something rather than at it. The silence stretched just a second too long before he answered. “Long enough,” he said simply. His eyes returned to hers then, steady again, but there was something more closed off now. Deliberate. “I’ve been around here years,” he added after a beat, voice still even, but offering nothing more than that. No details. At her comment about remembering his face, though, that earned a different reaction. Kane tilted his head slightly, studying her now. “I don’t tend to be memorable,” he said quietly. A pause. “People see what they expect to see. They forget the rest.” There was no bitterness in it. No pride either. Just fact. And then, just as subtly, he shifted the focus away from himself again. His eyes lingered on her a moment. “You’re not like that,” he added, voice lower now, more certain. “Kind, even when you don’t have to be.” His gaze flicked briefly to her hair, the faintest hint of something thoughtful crossing his expression. “And the pink helps. Hard to miss.” Another small pause, quieter this time. “You stand out,” he finished, almost like it was an observation he hadn’t meant to say out loud. “For the right reasons. You’ve got this, presence, for lack of a better word.” He paused, like he was choosing the word carefully, or maybe resisting saying it at all. “Light.”

“everyone flirts with me. sometimes you just struggle to tell the difference when i’m sitting on your lap,” she pointed out with a smirk tugging at her lips. she loved getting under his skin. eleanor noticed the way his attention shifted back to the woman and immediately rolled her eyes. “oh please, she doesn’t need a fucking speech about morality. yes, i’m a selfish vampire, congratulations, you cracked the case,” she scoffed, trying to slide off his lap only for him to keep her there. “my choice is doing whatever i want, and having her here means no vampire can get inside, so yes, i’ll keep her alive while i use her place.” she shrugged carelessly. “it would’ve been easier to charm her into letting me stay and then kill her afterward, but i didn’t, did i?” she pointed out. “i’m selfish, not homicidal, so relax.” as the woman came back with the blood bag and glass, eleanor’s smirk returned instantly. “see? problem solved.” she leaned back slightly against him. “we’ve been having this exact conversation for what, a century now?” she sighed dramatically. “i call you boring, you tell me you live by your own code, then you try to lecture me like i’m some rebellious teenager.” she shook her head. “i genuinely hope that sometime in the next thousand years you finally realize you cannot change me.” her eyes locked onto his as she spoke, stubborn and sharp. “discipline?” she echoed with a dry laugh. “discipline was pretending i didn’t have a single thought in my head so some disgusting old man would keep me fed and married instead of starving with my poor ass family. that was discipline.” her jaw tightened slightly before she relaxed again. “now i get to do whatever i want. i can walk where i want, take what i want, leave whenever i want. that’s freedom.” she tilted her head at him. “and if i want to use people sometimes, i will.” when he insisted he was only keeping her on his lap to contain her, she narrowed her eyes. “you’re such an asshole,” she muttered. the woman finally set the bag and glass down, and eleanor immediately smiled sweetly at her. “thanks, darling,” she purred before waving her off dismissively. “go watch tv or something.” once they were alone again, she lifted the blood bag between her fingers and looked back at him. “you should probably let me go before i start drinking this while sitting on top of you and you decide that’s too much.” her grin turned sharper. “don’t worry, though. ethically sourced.” she tapped the bag lightly. “same thing as raiding a vet clinic, just with less effort.” then she leaned a little closer, lowering her voice just enough to tease him. “so either let me enjoy my dinner, blackthorne… or i’ll feed off you instead.” she threatened, "you think morally better than i am, but i bet the thought of drinking blood from someone has crossed your mind in the past century" eleanor smirked, "open to me, i won't kill them, just want to know there's a vampire under all that restraint"

kane-blackthorne

Kane’s grip at her waist didn’t loosen when she tested him again, fingers steady where they held her in place like he’d already decided she wasn’t going anywhere until he allowed it. Her constant wriggling earned only the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth, something dangerously close to amusement before it vanished beneath his usual cold expression.He let her talk. Let her fill the room with all that sharp-edged confidence and practiced indifference, while his dark gaze stayed fixed on her face like he could see every crack beneath it. Even when she brought up freedom, discipline, the old wounds she disguised as arrogance, he didn’t interrupt. That was the thing about Kane, he never wasted words when silence made people reveal themselves for free. When she thanked the human sweetly and dismissed her like a pet, his jaw ticked once. “Charming,” he murmured dryly. “You almost sounded civilised for a second.” As soon as they were alone, his eyes dropped to the blood bag in her hand, then lifted back to her when she leaned closer and issued her little threat. Feed off him. Test him. Prod at whatever monster she wanted to uncover. Kane’s hand fell away from her waist the second she made to get up, allowing her off his lap without resistance. If anything, he seemed relieved to put even that small amount of distance between himself and the blood bag now dangling in her hand. He shifted back into the chair, one arm draped over the side, expression darkening as his gaze landed on the pouch of human blood. “Get that thing away from me,” he said flatly, lip curling with open distaste. “You always did know how to ruin a room.” Eleanor’s teasing earned only a long, unreadable stare. He watched her the way one watched a fire, beautiful enough from afar, dangerous enough not to touch. When she prodded at him again, trying to dig beneath his restraint, Kane exhaled through his nose and tilted his head. “Of course the thought has crossed my mind,” he said at last, voice low and cool. “I’ve lived too long for it not to.” His eyes flicked to the blood bag, then back to her. “But unlike you, I don’t confuse having an urge with needing to become it.” He stood then, slow and deliberate, towering over her before stepping past toward the window, choosing the night air over the scent of blood in the room. “There is a vampire under all this restraint,” he added without looking back. “He just has standards.” Then, after a beat, the faintest trace of dry amusement touched his voice. “And if you start slurping that like a juice pouch in front of me, Eleanor, I may throw you out myself out of this window." Kane moved to the window, broad shoulders turning toward the city below as he looked down at the streams of people moving through the streets like veins carrying life through the night. Lights bled across the glass, catching the sharp edges of his profile while his hands settled in his pockets. “Animal blood’s my preference,” he said after a moment, voice quiet and rough. “Enough to drain, never enough to make them sick.” He glanced back at her over his shoulder, something dry and unreadable in his expression. “I do have feelings.”

she knew she probably should’ve stayed inside. if this were a horror movie, she was doing exactly what got people killed—opening the door, stepping into the dark, following curiosity instead of common sense. but rory had never been very good at ignoring the pull of something that didn’t quite make sense to her. she knew being followed wasn’t okay, she knew he shouldn’t be there, and yet the way he had said he’d been alone for years tugged at something soft in her chest that she couldn’t just switch off. so she opened the door for him anyway. when he said her name, she glanced up at him, unsure what she was doing, only that she was moving forward on instinct. once he stepped inside, she let out a quiet breath and closed the glass door behind them. “okay,” she nodded, still too nervous to say much—something that almost never happened to her. rory was usually good at small talk, good at filling silence with brightness, even if delivering bad news at the clinic sometimes knocked that confidence out of her. “okay,” she repeated when he said whatever drink was fine. she left him in the living room and walked into the kitchen, stepping past her cats who were far too focused on devouring the sardines she’d topped their feeder with to care about the stranger in the house. she returned a moment later with a glass of water. “thanks,” she murmured as she handed it to him. “i guess you could say this is my safe place. i like when it’s quiet here… even if it isn’t most of the time.” she chewed lightly on the inside of her cheek. “you’re good,” she added when he apologized for being awkward. “it’s late—no one’s eloquent this late.” she tried to smile a little before moving to sit on the couch, glancing toward him. “you can sit with me if you want… or grab a chair.” she hesitated. “i’m probably not the best company right now, but if you need a friend… i can tell you about me.” she drew in a breath. “i’m rory—but you already know that. i’m twenty-six. my birthday’s in july.” she thought for a moment. “i have two cats, miso and peach. and if i ever get a third one it’ll definitely have a food name too.” a small laugh slipped out as she started relaxing. “i’ve been living alone since i was twenty-four. i adopted miso a couple months ago—someone left him by the back door of the clinic. he was barely bigger than my hand.” she shook her head softly at the memory. “and… yeah, i’m not sure what else to say about myself.” she shrugged before looking back at him. “what about you?”

kane-blackthorne

Kane took the glass of water from her with a small, grateful nod, settling into the chair across from her. He gave a quiet smile at her laughter, the soft light of the living room making her look smaller, warmer, more approachable than he’d expected. “Thanks,” he murmured, voice low but steady. “I get the quiet. I like it too sometimes. Makes it easier to think without everything rushing at you.” He paused, letting the words hang for a moment, watching her gestures, the way she spoke about her cats, the little life she’d built around them. He leaned back slightly, fingers brushing against the edge of his chair as he considered how much to say. “I’m Kane,” he finally said, letting a faint smirk curl at the edge of his lips. “I tend to keep things short. Facts, mostly. Not much room for extra details.” He looked down at the glass in his hands, twisting it lightly before meeting her eyes again. “I’ve been a bit of a loner for most of my life,” he admitted, voice low, honest, but not heavy. “I can count my friends on one finger and sometimes it feels like that’s even too many.” He shrugged lightly, a small, almost embarrassed gesture. “Not that it matters. She's not always in the city anyway.” He shifted just slightly, letting the silence settle between them, but not awkwardly, calmly. “I don’t have family around here anymore,” he said quietly, voice low but steady. “Life got dark a couple of years back. I lost a lot of people that meant a lot to me.” He paused for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal, then let out a quiet breath. “I’m still kind of trying to piece myself back together,” he admitted, eyes tracing some invisible point on the floor before returning to her. There was no bitterness in his tone, just honesty, and something careful, fragile, in the way he phrased it. "Most nights it's just me figuring things out, one day at a time.”

eleanor had never pretended to be anything other than selfish. if something sparked a reaction in her — curiosity, boredom, amusement — that was reason enough to chase it. and kane had always been one of her favorite reactions. she knew she pushed him, tempted him back toward the dangerous habits he had spent decades trying to bury. part of her did it for the chaos he carried with him like a shadow, but another part — the older, quieter part that remembered a century of history between them — thought the life he was trying to live now was simply… stupid. as they stepped inside the house, the woman eleanor had persuaded to lend it to her greeted them warmly. eleanor barely acknowledged it. she knew kane would have something to say, and she already didn’t care. the arrangement suited her perfectly — with miss grace’s permission, no other vampire would dare cross the threshold. kane’s concern was almost laughable. she rolled her eyes while he spoke gently to the old woman, guiding her toward the kitchen for tea, smoothing over any unease she might have felt. if he truly believed eleanor hadn’t charmed her thoroughly enough, he was far more naive than she gave him credit for. when he finally sat on the couch and tugged her down onto his lap, she let out a low chuckle, dark eyes glittering with amusement. “don’t talk to me like that while i’m sitting on your lap or i’ll start thinking you’re flirting with me, blackthorne,” she teased, smirking. she mimicked his tone under her breath. “make yourself comfortable… get some tea.” her gaze flicked toward the kitchen. “please, kane. that woman hasn’t had an original thought since the second i charmed her. she doesn’t remember anything i tell her. she lets me do whatever i want — and she’s an excellent way to keep other vampires out. so stop worrying.” her finger traced slowly along the tense line of his jaw. “she’s sweet,” eleanor added with a wicked little smile. “and i’m not talking about her personality.” then she raised her voice lightly. “miss grace! could you bring me an AB blood bag, darling?” she called, leaning back against kane as if she owned the world. “and a glass of water for my incredibly boring friend.”

kane-blackthorne

Kane watched the entire performance unfold exactly the way he had expected it would. The subtle way the woman’s eyes lost focus whenever Eleanor spoke. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing at first. Instead, he gently guided Miss Grace toward the kitchen, speaking to her in a low, patient tone that had nothing to do with Eleanor’s theatrics and everything to do with giving the woman a moment of dignity that Eleanor had clearly stolen from her. Only after that did he return to the living room. When he sat down and pulled her onto his lap, it wasn’t gentle or romantic. It was a deliberate move meant to keep her exactly where he could watch her. The moment she started mocking him, his eyes rolled toward the ceiling with a long-suffering exhale. God, she was exhausting sometimes. But despite that, his hand still settled at her waist, steady and possessive, like letting her wander off was somehow worse. “Flirting?” Kane repeated flatly, one dark brow lifting as he looked at her. “Trust me, Eleanor, if I were flirting with you, you’d know.” His gaze flicked briefly toward the kitchen, making sure Miss Grace was still out of earshot before returning to the vampire sprawled against him like she owned the place. “She doesn’t have an original thought right now,” he corrected calmly. “Because you took them.” His tone wasn’t angry. It was worse, tired. Kane leaned back slightly against the couch, fingers tightening just a little at Eleanor’s side as she traced his jaw. “You say it like it’s clever,” he went on, voice low. “Charming people so you can use them. Eating from them. Turning them into furniture for your convenience.” Another eye roll followed, this one slower. “Congratulations. You’ve mastered the ancient vampire skill of being selfish. We don't have to live like that anymore. We have a choice." Despite the words, he didn’t move her off his lap. If anything, he shifted her slightly so she sat more securely there. When she called into the kitchen, Kane pinched the bridge of his nose with a quiet sigh. “Incredibly boring friend,” he muttered, shaking his head before looking back at her with a dry, unimpressed stare. “You know,” he said, voice dropping just slightly, “I’m not boring, Eleanor.” His voice dropped slightly, firm but calm. “I live by my own terms. That’s called discipline.” His thumb tapped once against her hip. “Something you’ve spent the last century trying very hard to prove you don’t have.” Another pause. His thumb tapped once against her hip. Then, despite himself, the corner of his mouth twitched faintly. “And before you start,” he added lazily, “no, keeping you on my lap isn’t flirting.” A beat. “It’s containment. I’ve gotta keep you on my lap,” he said dryly, thumb brushing once against her side, “because the moment I let you wander off, you start treating the locals like a walking buffet.” His eyes rolled again, though there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth now. “So until you prove you can behave," he added calmly, leaning back into the couch like he had every intention of staying exactly where he was, “containment seems like the responsible option.”

her eyes stayed on him as he spoke, as he explained that he truly didn’t want to hurt her. it didn’t make her feel much better—mostly because it was late, she was alone, and he was standing in her garden. it didn’t help that her naive self had stepped outside to be alone with him, as if nothing bad could possibly happen. “it doesn’t help much, no,” she said softly. there was no meanness in her eyes, just honesty. when kane told her how he’d found her—how he’d seen her walking home—her stomach tightened. he’d followed her, at least once, from the bus stop. she must’ve looked worried, because she noticed the urgency in his voice as he quickly added that he knew it wasn’t okay. she had never been in a situation like this before, and if she was being completely honest, she was confused about everything. when he said he didn’t want to be alone, her expression softened. she was alone most of the time and didn’t feel the same way, but she could understand where he was coming from. “okay,” she whispered, the word barely leaving her lips as she tried to gather her thoughts before continuing. as he insisted he just needed a friend—someone who wouldn’t leave like the others had, family or otherwise—she nodded slowly. she knew she was about to do something stupid; she’d always known. swallowing hard, she opened the corridor door. “this is going to sound stupid, but… let’s go inside,” she murmured, stepping into her place. “do you want some tea, coffee, or anything?”

kane-blackthorne

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I know I keep coming across weird, and I don’t mean to. I’m just not good at talking to people. Most of my life, I’ve been ignored, or made to feel like I don’t exist.” His gaze dipped for a moment, then lifted back to her, unguarded. “I grabbed onto the first real contact someone gave me. You.” There was no manipulation in it, just blunt, uncomfortable honesty. He let out a slow breath, steadying himself. “I know following you wasn’t okay. I know this is a lot." Softer now, almost hopeful, he added, “I’d just like to get to know you, properly. At your pace. If you’ll let me. I won't turn up like this again." Kane froze the moment her hand touched the door, every sense sharpening as it opened. He felt it immediately, the quiet, unmistakable shift. An invitation. Given freely, unknowingly, and without conditions. The threshold no longer barred him. He didn’t step forward right away. His gaze lifted to her face, searching it, jaw tightening with restraint rather than hunger. “Rory,” he said gently, slower now, as if choosing each word with care, “you don’t have to do this just because you feel bad for me.” There was no pressure in his tone. “I won’t come in if you don’t want me to. You can say no.” But when she stepped aside and offered him warmth instead of fear, tea, coffee, anything, something in his expression softened. Not triumph. Something quieter. Almost reverent. “Thank you,” he said after a beat, and meant more than the words suggested. He crossed the threshold deliberately, hands visible, movements careful, like he was handling something fragile. Her home wrapped around him, and he was acutely aware of what that meant, how much trust she’d given without realising it. “I really did mean it,” he added, voice low but steady. “About wanting a friend. About not wanting to hurt you.” A pause, then, more personal, more sincere. “And about wanting to get to know you." At her offer, the corner of his mouth lifted faintly. “Water would be nice,” he said. “If that’s still okay.” Kane lingered just inside the entryway, glancing around like the space itself might tell him what he was supposed to do next. His eyes traced the walls, the furniture, the small signs of her life scattered around, soft, human things that made him feel suddenly too large, too out of place. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shoulders drawing in slightly. Unsure. Very aware that he didn’t quite belong anywhere. “This place is nice,” he said after a moment, the words coming out a little stiff, like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. “It feels quiet. In a good way.” He glanced back at her, searching her expression, then gestured vaguely at the room. There was a faint, self-conscious huff of a breath from him. “Sorry. I’m bad at this part,” he admitted, rubbing his thumb against the seam of his pocket. “Talking."

at his words, eleanor only smirked wider. “i’ve been saying that for over a century because it’s true,” she replied smoothly, circling him slowly, “you just refuse to accept it.” when he threw the word harassment at her, she gave an amused hum. “harassment? that’s dramatic. i like it,” she teased, utterly unbothered. “and yes, i provoke you. constantly. and you pretend to hate it, but you don’t. a century-long friendship comes with perks.” her eyes gleamed as his tone darkened. she could see the restraint in him, the quiet storm he always tried to chain down. when he mentioned again why he refused human blood, she rolled her eyes. she had heard it countless times—the guilt, the self-loathing, the desperate clinging to morality. eleanor never indulged it. “oh, please. don’t look at me like that,” she said, pressing her palm lightly against his cold chest to steady him—or maybe to test him. “i’m a vampire. reckless, selfish, unapologetic. we both know it. you think abstaining makes you superior? in the long run it makes you weaker. and the others already despise you. they’re just waiting for an excuse to drive a stake through your ribs.” her gaze darkened slightly, but her smirk never vanished. “i’m saying this as your friend, not the villain you paint me to be. control isn’t starving yourself. control is knowing when to stop.” she tilted her head. “it takes more strength to sip and walk away than to deny what you are entirely.” with that, she opened the door. inside, a human woman appeared from the hallway, calm and composed. eleanor stepped aside casually. “you won’t approve this,” she said over her shoulder, “but this is how i keep my house secure.” she smiled at the woman. “miss grace, let the self-proclaimed vegan in. he’s a friend. couldn’t hurt a fly.” and without waiting for his reaction, she walked deeper into the house, fully aware he would follow—he always did.

kane-blackthorne

Kane didn’t move while she circled him, but his jaw tightened incrementally with every slow step she took. When she repeated her century-old claim, he gave her a flat look. “You’ve been wrong for over a century,” he replied coolly. “Consistency doesn’t make it truth.” At the word harassment, he rolled his eyes, openly this time. Okay, maybe harassment was a little too far. He didn't enjoy Eleanor's company. “You show up, provoke me deliberately, and call it a perk,” he said dryly. “That’s you entertaining yourself.” But there was no real heat behind it, just the familiar rhythm of something old and worn-in. When she pressed her palm against his chest, testing him, steadying him, he went very still. His eyes dropped briefly to her hand, then lifted to meet hers, dark, restrained. “Don’t,” he said quietly. Not sharp. Controlled. “You don’t get to mock restraint just because you abandoned the concept.” As she spoke about weakness and stakes and the others waiting for him to slip, something colder settled into his expression. “I’m fully aware of what they think,” he replied. “I don’t abstain because I think I’m superior. I abstain because I remember what it feels like to lose control.” His gaze sharpened slightly. “You call it starving. I call it choosing.” She opened the door before he could say more. When the human woman appeared, calm and unaware, Kane’s posture shifted instantly, subtle, protective distance sliding into place. He looked at the woman only briefly before turning his eyes back to Eleanor, unimpressed. “You’re using her as a security system,” he said flatly. At her comment to the human, calling him a self-proclaimed vegan, he exhaled sharply through his nose. “I hate that you call me that.” But when Eleanor walked inside without waiting, he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Unbelievable.” Then he rolled his eyes again and followed her into the house anyway, shutting the door behind him with deliberate calm.

His gaze drifted briefly around the room, measured, assessing, before settling on the human woman standing calmly in the hallway. Miss Grace. When he spoke, his voice was low, even, threaded with something ancient and compelling. “Miss Grace,” he said gently, meeting her eyes. His stare held, steady, unwavering, quiet power humming beneath the surface. “You’re going to step into the other room,” he continued smoothly. “Make yourself comfortable. Perhaps put the kettle on. And you won’t concern yourself with anything you hear tonight.” His tone never rose. It didn’t need to. “You’ll leave us be.” There was no cruelty in it. No hunger. Just command. He held her gaze a moment longer to be certain the suggestion had taken root, then gave the smallest nod of dismissal. “Thank you.” Only then did he look away, as if the matter were already settled. His jaw tightened faintly as he turned back toward Eleanor. Miss Grace moved off exactly as instructed, her footsteps soft as they disappeared down the hall. Then he jogged after Eleanor. He caught up just as she reached the sitting room. Without asking, without announcing it, he stepped in front of her path and dropped down onto the couch in one fluid motion. The cushions dipped under his weight. With a smooth tug, he pulled her down toward his lap. He leaned back into the couch, one arm secured around her middle, the other resting lazily along the armrest as if this had been his plan all along. “You,” he said flatly, “are a lifelong pain in my ass.”

saying she was surprised to see the man there was an understatement. she had been expecting a lonely night, just her and her cats, probably munching on some overpriced vegan snack that hurt her wallet, but that clearly wasn’t what was happening. she quickly picked peach up, not about to let the cat out when it was that dark, not when she’d end up chasing it around the garden in the middle of the night. “yeah, it’s locked because i don’t want people walking into my place,” she pointed out, because who in their right mind left their door open for people to wander in. rory’s eyebrows furrowed at his words. “don’t worry about the gate, i’ll fix it, but how did you find where i live?” she asked. as he talked about not having anyone else and not wanting to be alone, her expression shifted, worry settling in as her heart started racing too fast in her chest, a quiet reminder telling her to close the door. when he said he would never hurt her, she looked up at him, but then he added that if he meant to hurt her she wouldn’t be standing there, and the choice of words caught her off guard; it was supposed to be reassuring, but somehow it felt creepy instead. the cat meowed in her arms, squirming until she let it go, turning to set it down on the floor farther away from the door. with the kind of naivety that sometimes defined rory, she stepped outside, closing the door behind her and leaving it cracked just a couple of inches, enough not to lock herself out but small enough to keep the cats in. she cared more about that than the fact that the man in front of her had shown up uninvited, with nothing to prove he wasn’t a serial killer straight out of one of the movies she watched. “what do you need?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself like that might keep the cold out. “why don’t you want to be alone?”

kane-blackthorne

Kane froze when she stepped outside, like he hadn’t actually expected her to do it. The porch light caught his face—tired, drawn, eyes a little too honest. He swallowed, hands staying firmly at his sides, giving her space. “I didn’t mean,” he started, then stopped himself, exhaling slowly. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. About not wanting to hurt you. I’m bad with words when I’m nervous.” His jaw tightened. “I’d never hurt you. I swear. And I know that’s exactly what someone who would says, which doesn’t help.” At her question about how he’d found her, his gaze dropped to the ground. He hesitated, then nodded once, like he’d decided to stop lying. “I’ve seen you walk home,” Kane admitted quietly. “Once. A while ago. From the bus stop.” He looked back up quickly, urgency in his voice. “I only followed you once. I didn’t come close. I just recognised the street. I should’ve told you sooner. I know that’s not okay.” When she wrapped her arms around herself, something in his expression cracked. “I didn't want to be alone,” he said, more softly now, the edge gone. “Because when I am, it’s just me. I'm all I've got. No one would notice if I didn’t show up anywhere anymore.” He let out a small, humorless breath. “I don’t have family that cares. Friends drifted. Some died. Some chose other lives. I can my friends on one finger, she checks in occasionally, but she isn't always nice like you.” His shoulders slumped, like he was finally too tired to hold himself together. “When I’m alone, it feels like I disappear.” Kane looked at her then, not demanding, not angry. Just honest. “I didn’t come here to scare you,” he said. “I came because I didn’t know where else to go. I just wanted a friend." Kane’s shoulders slumped further, the weight in his chest spilling into his voice. He swallowed hard, eyes flicking away for a moment before meeting hers again, raw and unguarded. “I just… I just need someone I can talk too. Someone who doesn’t leave. Someone who notices me.” His hands twitched at his sides, gripping nothing, and his voice cracked just slightly. “Just a friend."

eleanor knew about his willingness to stay away from human blood; she had been hearing those same words for over a century. she didn’t care—she would still be the devil on his shoulder, wanting him to be who he was, but he never allowed himself to do so. she fed on that girl with calculated technique, something she had been doing for centuries; it was casual, effortless—she took what she wanted and then forgot about it. she knew that once he started drinking blood again, he wouldn’t go back to animal blood, but he refused to let himself do what was right for him. he could see it as selfish, but that wasn’t something she minded. “i’m a great teacher, you should let me show you again,” she smirked, winking at him. when he announced he was coming to her place, she looked at him. “when did i invite you over?” she asked teasingly, a smirk on her lips. “you’re welcome to come, but i won’t make it any easier for you,” she pointed out, even if he already knew. as he leaned closer, she rolled her eyes. “bite me?” she scoffed. “you wish, blackthorne,” she chuckled, feeling his finger drifting along the exact spot he had indicated as he brushed his lips over her skin. “you won’t do it,” she mused, “you won’t, because you wouldn’t dare sink your fangs into something bigger than a mouse, and sadly for you, i’m human-sized,” she added, shoving him as she stood and walked past him. “i could even consider it after you have a drink with me,” she said, danger glinting in her eyes. “i have blood bags a very nice nurse gave me at the hospital—I asked, and this nadia girl just handed me like fifteen of them, a cutie if i can say so myself,” she smirked. “you have a drink of my a+ bag from a guy born in 1989,” she added, smiling as if she were talking about an old wine, “and then i might consider your offer about biting me.” as they reached her place, she opened the door. “you’re welcome to come in—have you considered the offer, kane? it’s nicely sourced.”

kane-blackthorne

Kane didn’t bother pretending he hadn’t heard it all before. He looked at her like he was tired of the argument but too stubborn to walk away from it. He scoffed when she went on about teaching him again. “You’ve been saying that for a century,” he said bluntly. “At some point it stops being mentorship and starts becoming more like harassment.” When she teased him about coming over without an invitation, he didn’t miss a beat. “You never invite me anywhere. You provoke me. Big difference.” His mouth twitched. “And yeah, I noticed. you never make anything easier. Wouldn’t suit you.” At her bite me questioning, he leaned in anyway, voice low, sarcasm sharp. “Careful. You keep daring me like that and one day I might stop being polite about it.” She laughed, taunted him, called him scared. Kane straightened, expression darkening. “I don’t drink human blood because I’m afraid,” he said flatly. “I don’t drink because I remember what happens when I like it too much. I don't want to become that person ever again." At the door, when she asked if he’d considered the offer, Kane paused before answering. He looked at her, slow and deliberate. “Yeah. I’ve considered it.” Then, a crooked, almost-smile pulled at his mouth. “The answer's still no." He leaned back against the entryway, arms loose at his sides, posture casual, but his eyes weren’t. When he smiled, it was slow and deliberate, and his fangs flashed just enough to make the point. His gaze dragged over her, unbothered. “You’re not human. You’re a vampire.” He tilted his head, fangs still visible, a dark glint in his eyes. “Only difference between you and me is you’re filled with human blood, because that’s all you feed on.” A beat. Then, a little moodier, a little closer. “So don’t act like I’m the reckless one here. I'm perfectly capable at being civilised without feeding on people."

it was late, and for once she didn’t have an overnight shift. she was already in her pajamas, hair down in a long pink braid, finally ready to relax. she was feeding miso and peach when she noticed the backyard light flick on, the motion sensor only doing that if something moved out there—usually one of the cats—but both of them were inside, eating. her brows furrowed as she walked toward the glass door and peeked outside. nothing… and then she looked closer. she jumped back, her heart racing in her chest. it couldn’t be true. what was he doing there, and how did he manage to make her jump every single time she saw him? she slid the door open, maybe not the boldest move. “how did you get into my garden?” she asked, eyebrows drawn together. “what are you doing here?” she added softly. as the door opened, one of the cats tried to slip past her, ready to spend time outside like they always did when they heard the door, and rory quickly scooped it up, the cat meowing in protest in her arms. “do you want to hurt me or something?” she asked, her voice tense, it was a stupid question—if he wanted to, he wouldn’t need to answer her at all, he would just do it. @kane-blackthorne

kane-blackthorne

Kane froze the moment the door slid open, like he’d been caught mid-thought rather than mid-step. The light caught his face wrong, making his eyes seem darker than they should have been, his presence abrupt enough to steal the air from the space between them. He lifted his hands slowly, palms out—not dramatic, just deliberate. “Uh, hi” he said first, voice low and careful, as if choosing the least alarming words as possible.“Your front door was locked. The latch on the side gate was open. I can fix it if you'd like?" At her second question, his gaze softened despite himself, flicking briefly to the cat in her arms before returning to her face. “I’m here because I don't have anyone else,” he said. Then, after a beat, added, “And because you weren’t at work. I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts tonight." When she asked if he wanted to hurt her, his brow creased, something almost like hurt crossing his features. “No,” he answered immediately, too fast to be rehearsed. “Never that.” He shifted his weight, the gravel beneath his boots making a faint sound. “If I meant you harm, Rory, you wouldn’t be holding a cat and asking questions. I have a respect for you which I don't have for most people." He took a step back, giving her space. “I just wanted to talk,” he said more gently. “If that’s still allowed? I can stay out here if you'd prefer that. I don't mean to scare you or intrude."

eleanor had forgotten about humanity centuries ago; she didn’t miss the warmth of her skin, she was more than fine being what she was. she could do whatever she wanted without consequences, feed on whoever she pleased, and make sure they never remembered a single second of it. she’d had people stay at her place before, partying with her for nights in a row, a free bar as she liked to call it, but by the third night she would erase their memories like it was nothing. she liked being a vampire, and she couldn’t understand why kane moped around the way he did. he wasn’t going to die anytime soon, he should just enjoy it. “it’s torture because, spoiler alert, nothing is going to change. you’re going to outlive everyone in this town, then probably move back to your manor, then come back and start all over again. they’re going to die for fuck’s sake, kane, but you should learn to live a little. you’re old enough to have fun instead of crying about how you’re not human, how you’re a monster,” she rolled her eyes. “you are one, embrace it for the love of god.” she was speaking her mind, exactly what she thought, no lies, just honesty, and if she had to tempt him to make him realize what they were, she would. she noticed kane go still, his eyes darkening with hunger, and for a second she thought he might cave as his jaw tightened, but then he looked away almost immediately. eleanor sighed. “your needs are your needs,” she shrugged. “of course i will.” she glanced around, no one but them, and in a millisecond she was at the girl, teeth sinking into her neck before meeting her eyes. “nothing happened to you, you fell,” she said softly, and the girl nodded. then eleanor rejoined kane’s stride. “see? no one’s hurt, i didn’t kill her,” she mused. “and she probably has anemia, she should see a doctor,” she smirked. “so, do you want to come to my place, or are you going to find a vet clinic so you can taste something bigger than a mouse?” she asked, a smirk on her lips, a droplet of blood trailing down the corner of her mouth as she wiped it with her thumb and sucked it clean like it was the most natural thing in the world.

kane-blackthorne

Kane’s dark eyes flicked to Eleanor, the faint shadow of hunger passing over his features before he swallowed it down. He shifted slightly, hands tightening into fists at his sides—not from frustration with her, but from the restraint that had defined him for centuries. “Yeah,” he said slowly, voice low, measured, with that calm, unnervingly smooth edge of his, “nothing’s going to change.” He gave a small, almost wry shrug. “I’m not human, but I also don’t plan on feeding from one. Not tonight anyways." His gaze lingered on her as she demonstrated, jaw tight but posture controlled. When Eleanor spoke of needing to live a little, he let a faint, ironic smile curl at the corner of his lips. “Embrace being a monster, huh?” he murmured, voice teasing though edged with a centuries-old weariness. “Not sure I’m interested in that sort of chaos even if it’s fun to watch." He exhaled, finally meeting her gaze, the hunger still there but tempered by self-discipline. “I’ll pass on your offer,” he said smoothly, voice low and confident. Kane’s eyes darkened as Eleanor moved toward the girl, and a faint wince flickered across his face at the sight. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, looking away, jaw tightening just a little. The way she fed—so casual, so effortless—was almost too much to watch, and a part of him thought it wasn’t fair. But he didn’t speak. He wouldn’t tell her she couldn’t do it; that wasn’t his place. They lived differently, he reminded himself. Her way was indulgent, his was survival—but neither was wrong. He stayed quiet, letting his gaze drift elsewhere as she finished, voice soft behind him. He turned his head to look at her again. Even as Eleanor wiped the droplet from her mouth, Kane’s stare softened—not human soft, but a quiet approval, the kind reserved for someone who fully understood what it meant to exist like them. “You always make it look easy,” he said, almost reverently, though his tone stayed teasing, measured, and undeniably him. Then, as they continued walking, his shoulders straightened, a confident, forward stride matching hers. He didn’t need human warmth to feel alive, distractions worked just as well. Kane shifted slightly as they walked, letting his shoulder brush deliberately against Eleanor’s. The movement was subtle, casual, but deliberate enough to draw her attention. “I’m coming to yours,” he said smoothly, voice calm but carrying that quiet intensity he always had. “I need your company to get me out of my head.” As they moved closer together, he leaned in just enough so she could feel the heat in his presence, eyes dark and glinting with mischief. A slow, playful smile tugged at his lips. “You know, I could bite you,” he said, letting the words linger like a dare. “Right here,” he added, tilting his head toward the side of her neck, letting her feel the heat in his presence. He let the pad of his fingertip drift lightly along the exact spot he had indicated, tracing the line of his suggestion with deliberate slowness. Kane leaned in further, just enough for the brush of his lips to stir her skin, breath warm against her ear. The proximity made the space between them sizzle, magnetic and dangerous. “I still might,” he murmured, letting his words tease her just as much as her presence did to him before he pulled back and stood straight again with a smirk.

eleanor rolled her eyes at him. “the endless pit where your soul used to be? you’re the corniest vampire i’ve ever met, blackthorne,” she said with a shake of her head. “first the soul thing and now you appreciate a slower burn, you’re the definition of endlessly boring.” she smirked and winked at him. “oh, i love lighting things on fire, in another life i’m sure i committed arson or something,” she laughed, and when he mentioned rodents she nearly doubled over. “please tell me you carry those around like people carry cereal bars, that would be hilarious,” she teased. “but how many do you need? actually, don’t tell me, i’m already pitying you and i don’t want to feel even worse about how underfed you are.” she lifted her hand dramatically as if stopping him from talking. they were opposites in every way: he was all restraint, distance, and fear of the monster inside him; she was the monster, delighted to do whatever she pleased without worrying about anyone but herself. “oh, blackthorne, people would kill to have a drop of my gold, bitter taste my ass,” she scoffed. “but you know what? you flatter me.” she waved her hand like a lady fanning herself in some old ballroom. when she mentioned blood she saw his expression shift. “that’s because you’re still torturing yourself,” she said with a shrug. “restraint is the least sexy thing i’ve ever heard.” when he wrapped his jacket around her shoulders she smiled. “oh, i’m not picky at all. but i guess my weakness is guys who think they can flirt with me.” she chuckled as they stepped out into the cold, the empty street stretching ahead. “the horror on their faces is the best part, and then you tell them to forget, give them a little tap on the ass, and off they go.” she spoke about humans like they were nothing, toys at best. “don’t you ever think about tasting real blood again? come on, kane, i bet under all that control you want blood that doesn’t taste like shit.” she tilted her head toward a girl standing under a flickering streetlight. “just look at her. doesn’t she make you forget all about the rodents?”

kane-blackthorne

Kane exhaled slowly, a low, resigned sound that underscored the way Eleanor’s eye-roll hit him exactly where she meant it to. Endless pit where his soul used to be. He supposed that was fair. Corny, though? He would contest that—silently. He didn’t rise to the insult; instead, he just shook his head with a faint, rueful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Kane thought she was impossible. Infuriating. And somehow… oddly entertaining. He didn’t answer. She’d told him not to—but more importantly, he wasn’t giving her the satisfaction. Kane endured her dramatic pity with the expression of a man who had known centuries of torment but somehow found this woman to be the most exhausting thing he’d ever encountered. Still… when she boasted about her golden blood, he shot her a sideways look. Dry. Steady. Unimpressed. When she accused him of torturing himself, he didn’t deny it. Kane’s gaze lingered on the pavement ahead, the tension in his shoulders tightening by a fraction before he finally spoke. His voice was low, almost thoughtful, but edged with something he rarely let slip. “Is it torture,” he murmured, “if I think it’s for the best?” Listening to her talk about humans like toys never failed to make something brittle twist low in his chest. He knew what she was. She reveled in it. He spent every waking moment trying not to become it. Then she pointed to the girl under the flickering streetlamp. Kane went still. So still the cold air seemed to pause with him. His eyes sharpened—hungry edge, old instinct flickering like a blade catching moonlight before being sheathed again. He looked away almost immediately, jaw tightening, breath leaving him in a steady denial he didn’t voice. A quick flash of red went through his eyes before he closed his eyes to get rid of the thoughts lingering. Kane shoved his hands into his coat pockets and kept walking, shoulders tense. “No,” he said, almost to himself, “she’s human. She doesn’t need someone to ruin her night because of his own selfish needs.” His eyes stayed fixed ahead, not trusting himself to look back. “You do you, but I can’t do that.”

there was something in him that was drawing her in, she didn’t know what it was, but something inside her was screaming at her to run. she stared at him, wanting to keep an eye on him since she still didn’t know why he was there or what she was supposed to do in a situation like that—she had never found herself in anything like this before. when he said he didn’t have a dog or a cat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “you didn’t want to be seen and you thought this was closed, why are you even here? this isn’t a park, people can’t just come in and out whenever they want,” she scolded him. “i don’t get it, if your pet was here i’d understand, but being here just because you wanted to be alone? that’s not something people do.” then her face softened—what if he was looking for a place to sleep, what if he didn’t have anywhere to go, maybe that’s why he was here. “were you looking for a place to sleep?” she asked; she had no idea what was going on anymore, and he didn’t look like someone in distress, which only confused her more. “i’m not scared,” she shook her head, even though she was terrified and hated that he could see it. “i’m asking questions because i want to understand what’s going on, since this shouldn’t be happening in the first place,” she pointed out. her light eyes stayed on him as he took a long swig from the drink he’d gotten from the machine. when he asked if the clinic never closed, she tried to look confident. “it can’t close, it’s the only emergency vet clinic in town, we need to stay open in case there’s an emergency,” she explained. “just like hospitals for people,” she added. “why do you want to know?”

kane-blackthorne

Kane tilted his head slightly at her questions, the corners of his mouth bending into that too-soft, too-still smile that never quite reached his eyes. From the outside he looked calm—pleasant, even—but every inch of him was tight, coiled, fighting the instinct that made his nostrils flare every time the scent of animal blood drifted from deeper in the clinic. He looked like an addict trying very hard not to be an addict, clutching the cheap vending machine items like they were the only things keeping him steady. He answered her slowly, voice low and smooth in a way that only made the hairs on her arms rise. “I wasn’t looking for a place to sleep,” Kane explained. “I genuinely thought the clinic was closed. I just needed somewhere quiet to get my head straight. Somewhere empty.” He gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “Didn’t expect someone to be working this late.” Her scolding didn’t offend him; instead, he almost seemed amused by it, in that slightly unsettling, polite way he carried himself. “You’re right, it’s not normal for people to wander into places like this,” he admitted. “And I get why you’re suspicious. I just needed to be away from… well, from outside." He gestured vaguely toward the clinic’s back rooms, careful not to stare too long in that direction. “I thought you might have one of these vending machine though.” He lifted his drink as evidence, giving her a small, restrained smile. When she insisted she wasn’t afraid, he didn’t challenge her this time. He simply nodded, accepting her lie without calling it out. “I’m not here to scare you,” Kane said softly. “I’m trying to make sure I’m not a problem for anyone. That’s why I asked about the clinic being open all night.” His eyes lingered on her — respectful, but intense. Kane let out a small, almost embarrassed shrug, the motion loose and human, though the tension beneath his skin never fully faded. “I just thought this place would have more than one person inside if it wasn’t empty,” he admitted, tone casual but edged with that quiet unease he was trying to smother. “I don’t know. Ignore me. I’m clearly not thinking straight.” He gave her a polite, too-controlled smile and nodded toward the drink in his hand. “I should go and stop bothering you,” he added, stepping back a half-step as if preparing to leave. “Thanks for the drink.” His eyes lingered on her for a moment — curious, intent, just a touch too focused to be comfortable. “What was your name again?” he asked, voice soft, almost gentle, like he genuinely wanted to know… though something in him made the question feel heavier than it should. “Just in case I see you around,” he added quickly, noticing how his question might’ve sounded. “Not in a creep way, I swear. I just live not too far from here.”

she couldn’t tell what it was exactly — the sharpness in his stare, the twitch in his movements, or maybe the strange stillness that came between them — but something about him made her uneasy. it wasn’t enough to make her throw him out, though every instinct in her body screamed for her to close the door and lock it. something else kept her there, something she couldn’t explain, more instinct than reason. when he said he didn’t have what he needed, her stomach tightened — that wasn’t something a sober person usually said. maybe he was an addict. maybe her gut feeling wasn’t wrong this time. her heartbeat was pounding in her ears, but she nodded anyway, trying to sound calm. “okay, don’t worry,” she said softly, though her voice trembled just enough to give her away. the way he glanced at the animals behind her made her even more tense — there was something off in it, something that didn’t sit right. craving. the word echoed in her head. she told herself to breathe, to stop overreacting, but then the sound of the bottle hitting the floor made her jolt like she’d been shot. she pressed a hand to her chest, cursing herself quietly. relax. you’re fine. you’re fine. but she wasn’t. his words, little princess looking girl… alone, replayed in her mind, and she swallowed hard. she noticed his eyes flick toward the door again, and she forced herself to speak. “people do night shifts around here,” she said, clearing her throat when her voice cracked. “a hospital vet — works like a regular one, just… no humans. emergencies can come in at any time.” her gaze didn’t leave his face. “why were you in the back?” she asked, her filter gone now. “did you bring your dog in and you’re just checking on them? is that why you keep looking at the door?” she pushed, though she already knew the answer — she’d never seen him come through it. “if you’re hungry, i don’t know why you’d come here. vending machine food isn’t exactly the best thing this town has to offer.”

kane-blackthorne

Kane didn’t move at first. Not really. Just stood there like a shadow that had forgotten how to breathe. His eyes—dark, unreadable things—remained fixed on her for a heartbeat too long, like he was peeling back every layer she had, one silent second at a time. The corners of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile. More like the ghost of one. “No dog, nor cat” Kane said, voice low and quiet, but edged with something sharp. “Never had one.” His eyes flicked toward the kennels again, toward the scent of fur and blood and heartbeat. They were loud to him—muffled thuds of life behind metal and plastic. “Didn’t want to be seen.” His tone didn’t waver. He wasn’t lying. Just… choosing his words carefully. “Didn’t think anyone would be here this late. Thought the place was closed.” His gaze returned to her, slower this time. Measuring. Unsettling in its stillness." Then, finally, a blink. A small exhale. His head tilted, just a fraction, like he was studying something strange under glass. “You’re quick,” he murmured. “Most people don’t ask questions. They just smile, pretend they’re not uncomfortable, and wait for me to leave. But you?” His eyes dropped to the faint tremble in her hands. “You’re scared—and still talking.” He didn’t say it like it was a compliment. Or a threat. Just… a fact. One that intrigued him more than it should have. Then, without breaking eye contact, he unscrewed the cap on the bottle he’d picked up. The click of plastic twisting open felt loud in the silence. He brought it to his lips and took a slow swig, his throat moving with the swallow — deliberate, unhurried — like he had all the time in the world. He finally lowered the bottle, his gaze never leaving hers. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet but heavy with something unsaid. “I’m not picky with food,” Kane said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can eat anything.” His other hand brushed against the thighs of his jeans — quick, careless wipes, like he was trying to get something off that wasn’t there. A habit. A tick. The kind of thing someone did when they’d needed to stay busy once — when doing nothing was worse than doing the wrong thing. "So this place is never closed, huh?"

"people would be so, so lucky if they could be me, what can i say," she shrugged, a smug smirk on her lips. eleanor rolled her eyes; she had never wanted to think about what could have happened if she hadn't died — she was awake, out and about doing whatever she pleased without having to face the consequences, which was the life she'd always wanted. she knew kane wasn't like that, but the thought of being tortured for an eternity was enough to make her want to smack some sense into him. "it's cute seeing them all get botox and surgery to look young," she laughed. "you don't fight boredom, my friend — you are boredom personified," she smirked. "you're miserable because you feed on little rodents," she pointed out. "the world isn't funny anymore? what do you want back, the plague, the balls, the itchy clothes?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him. "just go out and do something that isn't crying over the past and why you're the way you are, for fuck's sake, kane." she shook her head. as she stood up he wrapped an arm around her, and for a second she thought he might give in to her little plan. "of course, that's what i do," she nodded. "oh, so scary — seeing a man eating people, i will shit myself," she rolled her eyes; she'd done horrible things but she wouldn't dwell on them. "you can see wrinkles? those were there before i died," she shrugged. "that shows how much nicer i was, smiling and courting around my town." "stop trying to distract me, but honestly... what do you fancy? regular, or do you want the less sugar-added version? diabetic people's blood is not bad," she smirked, guiding him outside.

kane-blackthorne

Kane scoffed, low and dark, the sound curling like smoke from a smoldering fire. “People would be lucky to be you?” he repeated, arching a brow as he glanced sidelong at Eleanor, the corner of his mouth twitching into a reluctant smirk. “Please. They’d trip over their own ego trying to keep up with yours." He watched her mock-laugh about Botox and surgery, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “Ah yes, the modern obsession with youth." At her jab — ‘you are boredom personified’ — Kane pressed a hand to his chest in mock agony. “That hurts. Really. Deep in the endless pit where my soul used to be,” he deadpanned. “Boredom personified? I am the spice of eternal life, Eleanor. Just because I don’t light myself on fire for fun doesn’t mean I’m not interesting. Some of us appreciate a slower burn.” When she mentioned rodents, his nose wrinkled in distaste. “Rodents are convenient. Portable. No emotional baggage. Unlike some people.” He cast her a pointed look, though his eyes glinted with amusement. And then, that last jab — “stop crying over the past” — made something flicker behind his eyes. Not hurt. Just that old stubbornness, a touch of pride bruised. He didn’t reply at first. But when she stood up and he wrapped an arm around her, it was half possessive, half reluctant truce. “I don’t cry,” he muttered, chin resting lightly against her temple. “I reflect." Her joke about being scared of him eating people earned a soft, sardonic laugh. “Don’t worry, darling. You’re too bitter to taste good,” he teased, lips brushing near her ear like a ghost of a threat that didn’t quite land. “I like my meals a little less... jaded.” He leaned in slightly, inspecting her face with dramatic seriousness. “Nope, they’re still there. Death didn’t save you from everything. Cute though. Like a haunted oil painting.” And finally — blood options. Kane gave her a look — flat, unimpressed, the kind of deadpan only centuries of disappointment could perfect — then shrugged with exaggerated indifference. "I don’t eat humans. I eat animals. Sue me,” he said, voice laced with mock innocence and just enough smugness to be irritating. “Sorry I’m not out there gnawing on joggers like a proper monster. Some of us have restraint.” Kane felt the night air cut through like a whisper with teeth — cold, sharp. He shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around Eleanor's shoulders. “But do you have a preference of the people you pick?” His voice dropped, that teasing lilt curling around the question like smoke. “Pretty boys? Tough guys? Beautiful women with tragic backstories and sharp eyeliner?”

the girl took a deep breath as he stepped farther into the room. “i’m normally not this careless,” she muttered, almost like she was trying to convince herself, because even if the back door was usually unlocked, she’d never walked in on a man lingering in the shadows before. “it’s too late to offer anything else,” she added with another steadying breath. the way his eyes stayed fixed on her sent a prickle down her spine—something about him was off. was he high? upset? she couldn’t tell, but whatever it was made her uneasy. when he took a step closer her heart stuttered, her chest tightening with unease at the way he looked at her, like there was a different kind of hunger there. she tried not to let her fear show. “sure,” she agreed quickly, nodding when he asked about the vending machine, telling herself it was better than letting him linger back here with all the animals. but when he swiped under his nose again, that same strange tension gripped her gut. “okay,” she said quietly, slipping past him to push the door open and leaving it ajar for him to follow. she led the way into the hall, pointing toward the vending machine stationed beside a cluster of plastic waiting chairs. “are you sure you’re okay?” she asked finally, turning just enough to look at him. “i won’t call the police or anything,” she added, her voice soft but edged with caution. “you just seem a little… on edge.”

kane-blackthorne

Kane followed her into the hallway, his stride unhurried but oddly sharp, like every step was pulled taut by something unseen. The glow of the vending machine lit his face in washed-out blues and whites, catching the faint twitch at his jaw as he tried to keep his composure. His fingers flexed at his sides before he shoved them into his pockets. At her question, his eyes lifted to hers—dark, restless, too intense for comfort. For a heartbeat, he didn’t answer, his throat working like he had words caught there. Then, with a sniff, he finally spoke. “I’m fine,” Kane said, voice low and rough-edged, almost like gravel. He gave a small shake of his head, running a hand over his face before swiping at his nose again. “Just… been a long night. Haven’t exactly had what I need. I'm just ... starving." He let out something between a laugh and a breath, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Makes me come off weird, I know. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna cause trouble. I just wanna get some food and I'll be out of here." The machine hummed beside them, and he leaned against it with too-casual posture, like his body was fighting the urge to move closer to her. His gaze flicked toward the animals behind the closed doors, then back to her, his expression tight. “On edge is one way to put it,” he admitted, his smile pulling crooked. “I’ve just got… cravings I can’t really explain.” He looked away quickly, eyes shadowed. “But you don’t need to call anyone. I promise.” His voice dropped, softer, almost pleading now. “Last thing I want is to scare you.” Kane dug into his pocket, fishing out a few crumpled coins that clinked faintly in the quiet corridor. He shoved them into the slot with a kind of restless focus, pressing the buttons without even really looking at the options. First came the rattle of a packet of crisps, dropping to the tray below. Then another, the sound sharper, louder than it needed to be. He crouched to collect them, his movements taut but oddly precise, like he was forcing his body to go through the motions of something normal. His voice came out low, edged with that strange mix of charm and unease. “So…” he drawled, gesturing faintly with the bottle in hand, “they leave a little princess looking girl like you working this late on your own?” The words hung in the air, casual on the surface, but weighted with something that felt like more than simple curiosity. Without thinking, he rubbed under his nose again—the same subtle tic he’d been trying to ignore all night. The movement was quick, almost compulsive, like an addict pacing for a fix, and his dark eyes flicked toward the cluster of animals behind the closed doors. He inhaled sharply through his nose, throat tightening just slightly, a quiet tension threading through his posture. His hunger was there, simmering under the surface, sharp and insistent, but he kept his movements casual enough to mask the craving. “Just curious, that’s all."

they had been friends for longer than anyone would guess, considering how young they looked for their true age. “you won’t see me hunting down those little shits,” she said with a nod. “that just means they’re plotting against you—trust me on that. and cut the sarcasm, blackthorne, that’s so eighty-seven.” she rolled her eyes, settling across from him with his drink in her hand. “you could just say you missed me, i’d be happier and you wouldn’t sound like some cranky old man.” eleanor raised a brow at his words, smirking. “i have the upper hand, whether you like it or not,” she said with a shrug. “you should’ve seen that country—god, you don’t know how many people try to look forever young, and they try so damn hard. i know how to get it, but it’s not ‘ethical’ and blah blah blah. but look at me, over a hundred years old and still looking twenty-five.” the vampire tossed her hair back dramatically. his next words made her press a hand to her chest. “why the fuck do you keep up with that shit? you don’t have to kill people, just… feed, tell them to keep quiet, and they’ll walk right back into their homes. that’s it. it’s who you are, kane, so why fight it?” she rolled her eyes again and finished his drink in one go. “you were funnier before,” she muttered, then stood. “okay, you’re miserable—let’s go.”

kane-blackthorne

Kane let out a low, humorless chuckle, swirling the dark liquid in his glass without looking at Eleanor. “What can I say? We're not all Eleanor Darcy,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching with the ghost of a smirk. He leaned back, eyes shadowed under the dim light, clearly half-listening as she ranted about her century-long battle with vanity. “I keep up with it because I can,” he said finally, voice rough, carrying the weight of boredom more than anger. “Because watching humans scramble to cheat time reminds me that I’m… still awake. Still breathing. Or, well, feeding.” He gave a dry shrug, the motion heavy, almost theatrical. “You think I fight it? I fight boredom. Misery’s just… a side effect. I don't like being like this." When she finished his drink and muttered about him being funnier before, he made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a sigh, dark eyes glinting. “Yeah, well, the world isn’t exactly funny anymore,” he said, standing slowly. His movements were languid, almost predatory, but there was an odd tenderness in the way he matched her stride. “And go where? Drag me into your chaos again?” Kane slung an arm around her shoulders, leaning a little too heavily as he stumbled slightly, a tipsy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Careful,” he muttered, his voice low and teasing, “if I go down, you’re coming with me.” He squinted at her face, mock-serious. “Though, I gotta say… I can still see a few wrinkles,” he added, his tone dripping with sarcastic exaggeration. “Not many, but hey, you’re human enough to show a little wear." His grin was dark and playful, the kind that made it impossible to tell if he was joking—or enjoying the fact that she knew he was. Kane leaned a little closer, his arm still draped over her shoulders, and pointed with one finger at the tiny crinkle at the corner of her eye. “See this one?” he said, voice low and teasing. “Right here. Barely noticeable, but it's there."

when there wasn’t an answer right away, rory couldn’t deny that her heart started racing. she should’ve closed that door earlier, but she’d been busy, distracted… she forgot. when someone finally replied, the sound didn’t ease her nerves—if anything, she wished it had just been the wind. she glanced around the room; there wasn’t much she could use if things went sideways. she took a cautious step forward. “yeah, i did,” she said softly, like it explained everything. “no one really uses it,” she added, as if that justified leaving the door open. when the person finally stepped into the cold light of the room, she suddenly felt small. “food?” she echoed, blinking a couple times. “uhh, this isn’t a restaurant. i can make you a sandwich or… there’s a vending machine out front,” she offered, trying to sound casual. her eyes flicked over the person again, trying to read them. “are you okay? do you need me to call someone or an ambulance or… something?” at this point, she wasn’t sure if she was overreacting—or not reacting enough.

kane-blackthorne

Kane stepped into the cold light, his eyes scanning the room with a calm intensity. “Leaving the door open is kind of … careless, you should probably be more careful, you never know who could be lurking” he said, voice low. When Rory offered food, he let out a dry laugh. “Sandwich or vending machine,” he muttered. “Not much of a spread, but it’ll have to do.” His gaze stayed locked on her, sharp but not unkind, like he was trying to read more than just her words. At her concern, he shook his head slightly. “No ambulance needed. Just… different hunger,” he said, voice calm but distant. There was something restless in his posture, like a storm held back just behind those quiet eyes. Then, almost absentmindedly, Kane wiped under his nose with the back of his hand—a restless gesture to distract himself from the sharp, lingering smell of animal blood that hung in the vet’s office. He took a small step closer, voice dropping into something more hesitant. “Could you… walk me to the vending machine? I know it’s late. I don’t mind staying here if you’d rather I not wander around. I probably seem like a right weirdo hanging around out here this late.” Then, he sniffed again —quick, almost desperate—like an addict chasing a fix. He wiped under his nose again, restless and twitchy. “I’m just… starving.”

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