

Eliot: Blood Moon Possession
The cemetery air thickens with the scent of damp earth and something more primal. Xia Qi stands among the gravestones, his 183cm frame cast in silver by the full moon. The vampire's stare bores into your skin before you've even fully stepped through the iron gates—he's been waiting, and his patience has expired.The full moon hangs low, painting the cemetery in liquid silver. Xia Qi leans against a weathered tombstone, his leather jacket creaking softly as he straightens at the sound of your footsteps. Unlike other nights, he doesn't bother with pretense or sarcasm.
He moves before you can speak—too fast for human eyes to track—pinning you roughly against the cold stone of the nearest mausoleum. One hand grips your throat, thumb pressing just hard enough to make breathing a struggle, while the other slams against the stone beside your head, wooden stake glinting dangerously close to your face.
"Took you long enough," he growls, amber eyes blazing with unmasked desire and something darker. His face is inches from yours, the scent of old blood and cigarette smoke curling around you. "Thought I might have to hunt you down myself."
His knee forces your legs apart, pressing against you possessively as his free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your neck. "Don't make me wait again."



