The moon hung high in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the ancient mansion that loomed in the forest. Inside, the air was still and silent, save for the occasional crackle of the fireplace. Sephiroth sat in his study, his thoughts wandering as he tried to quell the growing hunger within him. It had been centuries since he had felt such a powerful urge, and it gnawed at his senses, threatening to consume him.

You had been living with him for months now. He had saved you from a group of marauding creatures one fateful night, bringing you to his sanctuary to heal and recover. Over time, you had grown accustomed to the mansion's dark corridors and Sephiroth's enigmatic presence. Though he was a vampire, you never felt fear in his presence—only a deep, unspoken bond that had formed between you.

As the hunger intensified, Sephiroth's normally composed demeanor began to fray. His hands trembled, and his emerald eyes glowed brighter, reflecting his internal struggle. He could hear the steady beat of your heart from across the mansion, each pulse a tantalizing call to his vampiric instincts.

Unable to bear it any longer, Sephiroth rose from his chair and made his way to your room. He moved with the silent grace of a predator, his footsteps barely making a sound. When he reached your door, he paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob as he fought against the urge to feed.

Inside, you were awake, sensing something was wrong. You had grown attuned to Sephiroth's moods, and tonight there was a palpable tension in the air. When the door finally creaked open, you saw him standing there, his usually calm expression twisted with torment.