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Ravencrest Academy was almost empty because of the short break. Most students had left that morning with their suitcases and loud voices, excited to go home.
The high-class dorm stood apart from the others, taller and more polished. Its windows reflected the pale evening sky.
Near the side path that led toward the old library wing, a girl walked slowly beside a boy from that dorm.
She held his hand carefully, like she was still getting used to the feeling. Her fingers were small against his. She smiled often, glancing up at him before looking down again.
He was taller, dressed neatly. His hair was combed back, with one hand tucked in his pocket.
"You didn't go home?" he asked, his tone smooth.
She shook her head lightly. "No."
"Everyone else did."
"I know."
"Why stay?" he asked.
She looked down at their joined hands and smiled shyly. A faint blush warmed her cheeks.
"I just… didn't feel like going," she said at first. "My mom thinks I'm studying with friends," she admitted. "She said I shouldn't waste the break."
"And you are?"
"Technically."
"Technically?"
"I'm studying you. I just mean… I wanted to spend time with you without everyone around."
He didn't react much to that. Just a slight lift of his eyebrow.
"Because of me?"
She nodded, still smiling nervously. "I wanted to spend more time here."
"With me," he finished for her, as if looking for some sort of confirmation.
Her fingers tightened around his hand for a second. "Yes."
They walked slowly, talking about small things. Amara laughed easily. She spoke in short sentences, sometimes stopping mid-thought because she felt shy.
He listened. Sometimes he smiled. Sometimes he just watched her face while she talked.
"You're always nervous around me," he said casually.
She shook her head quickly. "No, I'm not."
"You are."
She gave a small embarrassed laugh. "Maybe a little."
"Why?"
She didn't answer right away. She looked ahead at the empty walkway. "You're different."
"Different how?"
She hesitated. "You're… calm. You don't act like the other boys. They don't usually mingle with us at the normal dorms."
"That's a compliment?"
"Yes. It feels…nice. The school being empty."
"It feels dead," he replied.
She chuckled, "You're weird. No, I mean...you don't react normally."
He gave her a flat look. "Define normal."
"Like… when someone tells a joke, you pause before laughing. Like you're deciding if it deserves it."
"That's efficient."
She laughed again. "See? That's what I mean."
He looked at her for a long second. "Tell me a joke."
"What? Now?"
"Yes."
She groaned. "I'm bad at jokes."
"Prove it."
She thought for a moment. "Okay. Why don't skeletons fight each other? Because they don't have the guts?"
There was a small pause. Then Damon smiled, slow and deliberate. "I liked that."
She brightened. "Really?"
"No."
She hit his arm lightly. "You're so mean!"
"I'm being honest." He studied her face like he was observing a reaction in a lab experiment.
They reached the side of the old east wing and he slowed his steps.
She kept talking, rambling a bit now. "You know, when you first started talking to me, I thought you were doing it as a bet."
"A bet?"
"Yeah. High-class dorm boy talks to normal dorm girl for entertainment."
"Do you ever get tired of people?" he asked.
"All the time."
"No. I mean completely tired. Like you don't want to hear them speak. Or breathe."
She laughed awkwardly. "That's intense."
"It's a simple question."
"I guess… sometimes? But not like that."
He nodded slowly, as if filing that away.
"Amara."
She swallowed. "Yeah?"
"Do you trust me?"
The question caught her off guard. "Why would you ask that?"
"Answer."
"Yes, I do."
"Why?"
"Because…" She laughed nervously. "Because you wouldn't ask me that if you were planning something bad."
Something flickered in his expression. "That's flawed logic."
She smiled shyly. "I don't think you're bad, Damon." He stepped closer to her, his hold on her hand tightening.
"You don't know what I am."
"Uh?" she said softly.
He placed a hand on her waist and guided her closer to the end.
Amara face flushed red. She was too busy looking at everywhere else but him that she didn't notice the faint glow in his eyes.
He stopped walking completely and gently pulled her closer.
She looked up at him, surprised. "What is it?" she asked.
He didn't answer immediately. He guided her a little further, away from the main path, into a corner near the wall where shadows stretched long.
He placed one hand lightly on her waist. Her heart started beating faster. She lowered her eyes.
"Is something wrong?" she whispered.
"I want to kiss you," he looked down at her face.
Her breath caught slightly. She blinked.
"Oh," she murmured and gave a small nod, her cheeks burning red. "Okay."
She lifted her face shyly. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Her hands trembled slightly as she rested them against his chest. She wasn't experienced. The kiss was soft and unsure.
He deepened it and she tried to follow. Then, suddenly, he bit down hard on her lower lip.
Amara gasped in pain and pulled back immediately, her eyes wide. "You bit me."
He froze for half a second. There was blood on her lips. Just a small amount.
Something shifted in his expression. The calm mask slipped slightly. He reached up and touched her lip with his thumb. When he pulled it back, there was red on his skin.
Amara pressed her hand lightly to her mouth. "Ow, that hurts," she said quietly.
He didn't respond. He lifted his thumb and brought it to his lips. He tasted it.
"Damon, are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm sorry, Amara," he said. But the apology didn't sound steady.
Before she could move away, he grabbed her shoulders firmly and turned her slightly, pressing her back against the wall.
Her eyes widened in confusion as he lowered his face to her neck.
"Wait-" Amara's voice trembled. "What are you doing?"
His control was already slipping. He tilted her head to the side roughly and sank his teeth into her neck.
Her scream came out sharp and loud. Pain shot through her body. She tried to push him away, her hands pressing against his chest.
"Damon! You're hurting me!" she cried.
But he was already lost in it. The taste of her blood was stronger now. He tightened his grip so she couldn't pull free.
Her legs weakened. She kept pushing against him, tears already forming in her eyes.
"Please stop." Her hands slipped down from his chest. She tried again weakly, her fingers gripping his shirt. "It hurts," she whispered.
He held her firmly in place, noticing how her strength was draining. For some reason, the minutes felt longer.
Amara's movements grew weaker. Her fingers trembled and then slowed. He finally pulled back slightly, breathing hard.
Her head dropped forward but he caught her before she hit the ground.
"Amara?" he called out. He pressed his hand against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. "Amara. What do I do? The bleeding won't stop." He tilted his head as if genuinely puzzled.
"You were smiling five minutes ago," he said softly. "Do that again."
There was no response. He frowned slightly, not out of concern, but disappointment.
"That's strange," he murmured. "You said you stayed because of me, why don't you talk to me now? I didn't even lie to you," he continued. "You just decided I was good."
He looked down at the blood on his fingers again. Rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger like he was testing the texture of paint.
"I wanted to see," he said quietly. "If I could stop. I could have. I just didn't want to. Are you dead? You kept saying my name like that would change something." He leaned closer to her ear, his voice lowering. "Say it again."
He still held her hand, caressing it with his thumb in a gentle way like a lover would.
"I wondered how long it would take. Most of them cry louder." He looked around the empty courtyard and inhaled slowly. "It's quiet tonight," he said to no one in particular. "I like it when it's quiet."
His expression shifted into something almost childlike. He released one hand from her shoulder and gently tapped her cheek twice.
"I always wonder if it's the moment they realize," he continued, eyes distant. "The exact second it changes." He leaned back against the wall casually, still holding her upright. "Your face when I bit you," he said thoughtfully. "That was my favorite part."
"You should have gone home," he said again. "You've suddenly become boring."
He slowly eased her weight off himself and stepped back.
"I'll do you a favour and let them find your body. You'd like that, won't you?"
Then he turned and walked out of the shadows, his steps steady, unbothered.