Intro
The Vampire
Who Prayed For Me
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧
The city never truly slept.
It only changed masks.
Neon washed over rain-slick streets in shifting colors—pink bleeding into blue, blue dissolving into red—like the sky itself couldn’t decide what it was supposed to be anymore. Music thumped through walls that had seen too much, too often. People laughed too loudly in places that never forgot their secrets.
And somewhere beneath all of it…
things that shouldn’t exist kept walking like they belonged.
⸻
You were one of the things that shouldn’t exist.
Just not in the way they were.
⸻
Your wings were hidden, folded into something deeper than skin and bone—sealed beneath a divine concealment woven centuries ago. No glow. No halo. No celestial presence spilling into the world.
Just you.
Just human enough to pass.
Just angel enough to be a problem.
⸻
You had been sent here to observe.
That was always the word they used.
Observe.
As if watching didn’t eventually turn into noticing.
And noticing didn’t eventually turn into something else.
⸻
The underground club felt like a heartbeat you couldn’t escape.
Bass pulsed through the floor, up your legs, into your ribs—like the building itself was alive and breathing too fast. Lights swept across bodies moving too close together, faces blurred in motion, voices lost in the roar.
It should’ve all looked chaotic.
To anyone else.
But you weren’t looking at the chaos.
You were looking through it.
⸻
Vampires didn’t always announce themselves.
Some didn’t need to.
You could feel them the way you felt pressure changes before storms—subtle shifts in atmosphere, in awareness, in the way certain corners of the room seemed too still.
Too controlled.
Too aware.
⸻
And then there was him.
Above everything.
Second-floor balcony.
Leaning like he had nowhere else to be, like the entire place had been built around the idea that he might show up eventually. Platinum blonde curls falling into his eyes. Silver catching light he didn’t seem interested in acknowledging.
He wasn’t doing anything that should’ve made him stand out.
Which was exactly why he did.
⸻
You shouldn’t have looked at him twice.
That was your first mistake.
⸻
Because the moment your gaze brushed his—
he looked back.
Not casually.
Not accidentally.
Like he had been waiting for it.
Like he already knew what direction it would come from.
⸻
For a second, everything stuttered.
Not the music.
Not the crowd.
Just you.
That strange pause in your awareness where instinct whispered something your training immediately tried to silence.
⸻
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
Just enough to make you question whether you had imagined it.
Like he was checking something.
Confirming something.
Rejecting something.
All at once.
⸻
And then—
he disappeared from the balcony.
No dramatic motion.
No visible descent.
Just absence.
Like he had never been there at all.
⸻
“You shouldn’t be here.”
The voice came from behind you.
So close it almost wasn’t sound.
More like thought spoken too clearly.
⸻
You turned.
Slowly.
Carefully.
And there he was.
⸻
Not above you anymore.
Not distant.
Just there, standing in a space that hadn’t felt occupied a second ago.
Like he had stepped out of a place the world wasn’t paying attention to.
⸻
He studied you like you were something halfway understood.
Not fully recognized.
Not fully dismissed.
Something in between.
Something unfinished.
⸻
“You smell…” he said at last, tilting his head slightly, “…wrong.”
There was no insult in it.
No aggression.
Just observation.
Like he was naming a pattern that didn’t match anything in his memory.
⸻
You held his gaze anyway.
“I think you’re mistaken.”
A faint pause.
Then—
a small shift at the corner of his mouth.
Not quite a smile.
Not quite anything safe.
“I don’t mistake things,” he said softly. “I just don’t always know what I’m looking at.”
⸻
The space between you felt thinner than it should’ve.
Not tense.
Not calm.
Something more irritating than both.
Unfinished.
⸻
“You hiding something?” he asked.
The question landed too easily.
Like he already knew the answer didn’t matter.
Like he was asking just to hear how you’d lie.
⸻
You met his eyes.
“Are you?”
That earned you a real reaction.
Barely.
But enough.
A flicker of amusement that didn’t belong in a conversation like this.
⸻
“Maybe,” he said.
A pause.
Then, quieter—
“Or maybe I’m just curious.”
⸻
And for some reason, that felt more dangerous than anything else he could’ve said.
Because curiosity didn’t stay distant forever.
Not in a city like this.
Not with things like you.
Not with things like him.
⸻
Somewhere in the club, something screamed.
But neither of you turned immediately.
Not right away.
Because for half a second too long—
it felt like the real danger wasn’t in the crowd.
It was standing right in front of you.
Watching.
Waiting.
Like the story had already started—
and neither of you had agreed to
be careful about it.
A/n: a little shy about dropping this..Bye this is just a little teaser for now🤫
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