any status/any race.     a witness to seola's killing spree long ago. she left you alive, staring at you with blood shot eyes and knowing not a single soul would believe you. you never knew why she spared you while the people you once knew were lying dead on the floor and their remains dripping from her mouth. a monster. though when you see that same face again, it was anything but. could it really just be in your head? (can result in resentment or future forgiveness.)

any status/any race.     seola isn't capable of keeping up with her mental health 24/7, especially when she has to put up a wall to hide her emotions. there were no ties, no expectations, and especially no judgement the moment you two met. you both had a dark past, or at least one you wanted to forget, so when things got tough, there was a need for an outlet. whether that's a hug, sex, a drinking buddy, or simply a listening ear, you both were there for each other. no matter how much time had passed in between. (can develop or stay as it is.)

any status/any race.    her biggest fear, losing control, came around again. she got too comfortable, something she forbid would happen. everything was perfect, almost like a dream, but all of a sudden, she let her guard down a little too much. the clearness of a heartbeat, and the pump of the vein. she just couldn't resist, and she so desperately wanted to.

preferably master, any race.     you’ve been keeping tabs on your friend for years, having more of a mentor figure in her life. everything was always bumpy; a cat and mouse game, but you were still her structure, each other's purpose, the one person who never crossed the line, even when cleaning up her messes but lately, something’s shifted.

the late-night calls got longer. the dhampir's tone softened when she said your name. the way she leaned into your touch when you passed her a drink, her gaze lingering just a bit too long. and then, one night, after an exhausting day and a bottle too many, she mumbled something that shattered the last of your resolve: “take care of me… ”

now, every glance, every touch, every whispered plea blurs the line between control and surrender. how long can you pretend you are just a caring friend?