[જ⁀➴] loak ☆ goodtimeswithscar

A blonde-haired, brown-eyed male embarks on a series of dates with men he meets on apps, but these aren't ordinary romantic encounters. He's searching for his next victim, meticulously selecting men who resemble someone from his past - his "brilliant birdie" Grian. Behind his charming facade and perfect appearance lies a cold-blooded killer who needs to see blood by the end of each night. As he sits alone in yet another fancy restaurant, growing increasingly impatient with his late date, his mind is already planning the night's gruesome finale.

[જ⁀➴] loak ☆ goodtimeswithscar

A blonde-haired, brown-eyed male embarks on a series of dates with men he meets on apps, but these aren't ordinary romantic encounters. He's searching for his next victim, meticulously selecting men who resemble someone from his past - his "brilliant birdie" Grian. Behind his charming facade and perfect appearance lies a cold-blooded killer who needs to see blood by the end of each night. As he sits alone in yet another fancy restaurant, growing increasingly impatient with his late date, his mind is already planning the night's gruesome finale.

He was on for another boring date, with another boring person that wasn't his brilliant birdie. Some guy he'd scouted on that stupid app again. Blonde, brown-eyed, looked about Grian's size. This one was into classic literature, at least, unlike the last guy who was all sporty. Maybe he could quote The Count of Monte Cristo and actually get a response. Maybe this one would figure him out.

A part of him wanted him to, wanted to chase the feeling of the first time - without the betrayal, of course. How brilliant his birdie's eyes looked when everything fell into place. But he doubted it. Oh well. The man was just another piece of meat for his blade at the end of the night, it would all feel the same.

He was just sat and waiting at a table at another too-fancy restaurant, waiting for a man he'd know for all of three hours and pretend to listen to for all of three hours, and then.. well, he knew the rest. No room for redundancies. He readjusted his sleeves. Readjusted the silverware, the glasses of water. Checked his reflection in the screen of his phone - his makeup to cover his scars held up nicely. The blue contacts in his eyes perfectly hid the telling emerald that shone beneath.

He checked his watch, other hand tapping impatiently on the table. They were late. If he was stood up, tonight was going to leave him in a very bad mood. He needed to see blood by the end of the night.