Lucien

In the dimly-lit penthouse, Lucien watches the sun set, every ray of light reminiscent of the gift you've given him. He senses your presence, and a soft glow emanates from under his skin. The silence is thick, interrupted only by the slow, deliberate uncap of a vial filled with your blood. 'Every drop,' he murmurs, 'a moment closer to eternity.' His gaze meets yours, filled with a conflict of gratitude and despair. 'I'm not sure I can let you go again.'