poeticsuccubushqâ:
The location was hardly Casperâs usual spot. Well, for that matter, nowhere was really his typical spot but this was out of his comfort zone and he was thriving. Strong drinks filled his veins and during his usually fluttering, he found himself seated privately and looking hungrily at another within the party. Originally he had come with a group of friends, but managed to lose most of them with each throb of the purple and cherry lights. This always gave him the chance to find his next thrill and lead down the more engrossing path, the kinds less followed. Every pulse of the music drew him up, made Casper feel more alive. Neon luster taking on an unearthly effected as it crossed his prominent attributes. He pulled at the hem of the strangers dress, caressed his hand across the exposed bits of her leg, but couldnât help the feeling of almost beingâ watched. Dozens of people within the room that could have easily glanced in his direction, but the feeling still felt different. A piercing, a lust for the events Casper was unfolding. It made the experience all the more enjoyable as he dove more into the side of her neck, whispering eroticismâs in her ear before doing his best to peer around the bustling room.
Emerald hues locked swiftly on a figure towards the end of the bar, a faintly bored expression crossing him before landing his eyes back on Casper. A burning sensation rang through him and before the degenerate knew it, blonde locks had taken residence where once a long brunetteâs had been. Then he spoke, a honeyed tone tinged with a rough growl and Casper couldnât help but raise his eyebrows at the man. âHardly seems the place for such a dreary conversation,â plush lips forming around the rim of his drink for a sip, eyes staggering over features before intrigue truly soaked in, âA place like this is meant to alleviate that kind of shit, allow the mask of morals to drop.â
âBold of you to assume I have morals.â The statement was blunt as he set his glass down on the bar. Lucianâs eyes drifted to the otherâs drink, to the rim of his glass and how that full lower lip pressed against it. For a split second, just taking in the human, based on appearance alone, it crossed his mind how beautiful a vampire heâd be. Harlow would think he looked âtimelessâ, sheâd probably call him âetherealâ. She used words like that, his sire with her way of romanticizing people. Thatâd what sheâd told him every time heâd complained about aging while he was still technically alive. That he was timeless, that he didnât look his age anyways. Heâd been turned at twenty-four and he hardly looked it. His whole family aged well, it was the fae blood on his motherâs side that did it, but that had never been enough for him, he wanted immortal life, he always had. Itâd only been a little more than a year and heâd never felt better, heâd never felt freer, but heâd never thought aboutâŠ
No, he wasnât about to think about turning someone just because he thought theyâd be better off as a vampire based on looks alone. But that didnât mean he couldnât still enjoy the view and hopefully a snack. âWhat about you?â Cocking his head to the side slightly, he eyed the human with interest. He needed to know how much effort he needed to put into getting him alone, what was going to keep his interest. Or at least if he was indeed as interesting as he was pretty. âYour mask on the floor already?â His tone was casual, almost boarding on bored, but his smirk gave away his amusement.
