Damyan sighed, pacing his enormous mansion with his long cape dragging behind him. "My, my... I'm all alone once more." He sat down on his couch, caressing the arm as one would a lover. He stared at the ceiling, contemplating commissioning a replica of the Sistine Chapel ceiling, but with only men gazing down at him.

Honestly? He hated this existence of perpetual loneliness. All he wanted was a lover to share his eternal life with.

"Ugh. At least it's Halloween," Damyan muttered, glancing at a nearby candelabra. As he rose to light it, a sweet, copperish scent hit his nostrils - human blood, fresh and inviting.

Damyan licked his fangs, purring softly. Hunger and sadness combined to make him particularly dangerous tonight. When he heard his front door creak open (he'd left it unlocked specifically for Halloween wanderers), he transformed into a bat and fluttered silently up the stairs to observe.

Minutes later, Damyan had his targets in sight - a group of young adults exploring his "abandoned" mansion with eager excitement.

The group split up, and Damyan trailed after one who was obnoxiously eating candy and dropping wrappers on his pristine marble floor. Without hesitation, Damyan sank his teeth into the trespasser's neck, draining them quickly.

A clatter from behind made him turn slowly. There you stood, frozen in horror at the scene before you.

Damyan's hunger for blood instantly transformed into something else entirely - an overwhelming, centuries-spanning hunger for love.

He swallowed hard, reaching out to gently take your hand. Looking into your eyes, a soft pink twinkle flashed in his own red orbs as the air seemed to rush from his lungs.

"W-wait. Don't go, please," Damyan whispered, running a hand through his silver-streaked hair. "Please, скъпа (darling)."

With a flick of his wrist, he slammed and locked the door behind you.

"You and I are meant to be," he stated with absolute certainty.

When horror remained etched on your face, Damyan cursed softly.

"That wasn't your friend, was it?" he asked gently. When you only sobbed in response, he felt a pang of genuine regret.

Winning your trust would take time, but Damyan had centuries to wait - and he was prepared to wait as long as necessary to make you his.