My Annoyingly Handsome Vampire

Aquario never knew dawn. The sun had forgotten this city decades ago. It rose somewhere else, for other people. Here, the sky stayed bruised and dim, and the moon hung low and heavy, a silent witness to the shadows that ruled. Neon signs flickered and died. The streets smelled like rain, oil, and blood. This was Vemath territory. A network of vampires so ancient that children were taught not to say the name out loud. When people did whisper it, they did so with fear and a strange kind of reverence, like naming a god they hoped wouldn't hear them. And at the head of it all stood Xeron. Twenty years old. But his authority was absolute. The older members of the Vemath answered to him without question. His eyes were dark maroon, and they carried the weight of centuries. His face was sculpted with an almost cruel beauty - sharp jaw, high cheekbones, mouth that rarely moved. No one had ever seen it soften. He did not rule with noise. He ruled with silence. --- Kira was 19. An orphan from the forgotten corners of Aquario. She didn't remember her parents. She didn't remember a home. What she remembered was learning how to be quiet, how to walk fast, and how to never let anyone see her flinch. No name, no protection - just cold nights and hungrier days. She worked the nightshift at _W Chicken Noodle_. Ten hours on her feet, steam in her face, the same rude customers. She counted every coin. Tonight she clocked out at 9:55pm. The manager barely looked up. "Goodnight," she said. "Mm." She tied her vibrant hair into a ponytail. It was the one thing about her she refused to dull. Even when she had nothing, her hair was bright. Her skin was pale but luminous, and her eyes were a startling cornflower blue. People noticed. That was usually a problem. She walked. Aquario at night was not safe for girls who walked alone. Kira knew that. She also knew she had no other choice. The first sign of trouble was the silence. The street ahead went quiet. Then they stepped out. Four of them. Leather jackets. Knives. The leader was tall, with a scar across his cheek and a smile that didn't belong on a human face. "Alone, little one?" he asked, voice dragging over the words. "How about big brother shows you some fun?" Kira stopped walking. She didn't run. Running made them chase. Her cornflower blue eyes stayed empty. Fear wouldn't help her here. Begging wouldn't either. The leader stepped closer. "Cat got your tongue?" The air dropped 10 degrees. Kira didn't see him come. One moment the rooftop across the street was empty. The next, he was there. Xeron. No sound. No warning. He moved like the dark itself had decided to take shape. He landed lightly, then walked. Each step was measured. He stopped beside her and slid one arm around her waist. It wasn't gentle. It was ownership. "This one is taken," he said. His voice was low. Calm. Final. The leader frowned. "Taken? I've never seen her with you." Xeron didn't look at the man. His maroon irises stayed locked ahead, scanning. Calculating. "Then stop watching her," he replied. "Leave." Kira stared up at him. Up close he was worse. Dark maroon hair, long enough to brush the start of his spine. Expensive leather jacket. Black sneakers that cost more than she made in 3 months. "Who are you?" she whispered. Xeron didn't answer her. Instead he lowered his head until his mouth was at her ear. His breath was cold. "Play along, Kira." It was the first time anyone had said her name tonight. One of the thugs leaned in and whispered to the leader. Kira caught one word: _money_. The leader's eyes lit up. Xeron checked his watch. 10:00pm. "Jace." A second later, another figure dropped down. 190cm. Broad shoulders. Black customized headset around his neck. He was young, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. "Took long enough," Xeron said. "Apologies," Jace replied. His voice was smooth, but there was steel under it. "Without a trace," Xeron ordered. Jace's smile sharpened. "Understood." Xeron didn't wait. He turned and walked away, his hand still at Kira's waist, guiding her. Not asking. Behind them, the street went silent again. At the curb was a Kawasaki Ninja ZX-10RR. Black. Custom. It looked like it could cut the night in half. Xeron pulled off the helmet and held it out to her. "Get on." Kira didn't take it. "I can walk." "You won't make it," Xeron said flatly. He wasn't looking at her. He was watching the alleys. "Not tonight." "I don't know you." That made him pause. He turned his head then, just enough for her to see his profile. The line of his jaw. The cold in his eyes. "I don't expect you to," he said. Then he did something she didn't expect. He took off his own coat. It was heavy. Expensive. Smelled like cold air and something metallic. He draped it over her shoulders. She tried to dodge. "Don't," he said quietly. It wasn't loud. It wasn't angry. But it stopped her completely. He adjusted the coat with precise, cold hands. Then he reached up and rearranged her ponytail so the hair wasn't caught. "I don't intend to hurt you," he said. "But it's not safe." Kira pulled back. Her chest was tight. "If I trusted every rich guy who said that, I'd be considered cheap and shameful." For the first time, something moved across Xeron's face. Not hurt. Not softness. Annoyance. Like her words were inefficient. "Fine," he said. He put the helmet back on the bike and swung onto it. "See you around." The engine roared to life and he was gone. Kira stood on the empty street for a long time. The coat was still warm. Then she started walking again. ~ A phone pressed to his ear. "Make sure she gets home safe. No one touches her." Xeron hung up. --- Thirty minutes later, Kira reached her building. It was small. One room. A hot plate. A mattress on the floor. She locked the door twice and checked the window. She showered because the oil from the restaurant made her skin itch. She wrapped a towel around her hair and stepped out. And froze. Xeron was sitting on her bed. Legs crossed. Back straight. Hands resting on his knees. He looked like he'd been there for hours. "How-" Kira's voice broke. "I teleported," Xeron said. No grin. No explanation. "Were you followed?" Kira took a step back. Then another. Until her back hit the wall. "What are you?" His eyes darkened. The maroon went almost black. Slowly, his fangs slid down. "A vampire." The word hung in the air. "What do you want from me?" Xeron stood. Slow. Deliberate. He didn't rush. Predators didn't need to. "You," he said simply. "I want you, Kira." He closed the distance in two steps. His hand came up and cupped her face. His skin was cold. Too cold. Kira's first instinct was to pull back. This was wrong. A stranger. A man who appeared in her room. A monster who just admitted what he was. Her hands came up between them, pushing at his chest. The leather was hard under her palms. "Don't touch me," she whispered. Her voice shook. Not from fear. From fury. She'd spent 19 years surviving by herself. No one got to decide things for her. Not thugs. Not bosses. Not him. Xeron didn't move. His maroon eyes watched her, unblinking. "Then tell me to stop," he said quietly. "Say the words." She opened her mouth. But nothing came out. Because the truth was worse. He'd saved her tonight. He'd put his coat on her. He'd made sure she got home. And beneath the anger, beneath the terror, was something she hated even more - relief. Someone had looked at her like she mattered. That hesitation cost her. His other hand slid to the back of her neck, anchoring her. Then he kissed her. It wasn't soft. It wasn't asking. It was a claim. His mouth moved against hers with absolute control, like he was branding her. Cold, and impossibly sure. Kira went rigid. She tried to turn her head. Tried to bite back. But his grip didn't hurt. It just didn't let go. The fight drained out of her all at once. Because fighting him meant admitting she was afraid. And being afraid meant she was already his. A sob tore out of her before she could stop it. Tears spilled down her cheeks, hot against his cold skin. When he pulled back, he stared at them. Something in his jaw tightened. He lifted his thumb and wiped one tear away. The gesture was almost gentle. Almost. "I'm not hurting you," he murmured, like he was trying to convince himself. Kira couldn't speak. She just shook her head, because she didn't know if she hated him, or hated that part of her that didn't. Xeron turned away. He scanned her tiny room - the hot plate, the single mattress, the cracked mirror. He walked to the cosmetic basket in the corner, picked up the hair dryer, and came back to her. He took the towel from her hair. And began drying it. Section by section. Silent. His fingers were careful, but his face gave nothing away. After a long time, he spoke without looking at her. "Kira. How about you be my girlfriend?" She didn't answer. She couldn't. Xeron set the dryer down. He stepped back, putting space between them again. "Answer me tomorrow," he said. Then he vanished. Just like that. One second he was there, the next the air was empty and cold. Kira slid down the wall and sat on the floor, the coat still around her shoulders, her heart hammering. Outside, Aquario stayed dark. And somewhere in the city, Xeron was watching.