Bóris Vladescu, the ancient vampire, had seen centuries pass—wars, empires, and countless moonlit nights. But when he met Cecília, a princess with eyes like starlight, his world shifted. Love bloomed, defying time and fate.
One evening, as they wandered through the castle gardens, Bóris noticed a small creature—a stray kitten, fur matted and eyes wide. Cecília knelt, her fingers gentle as she stroked its head.
"Look, Bóris," she said, "this little one needs us."
He hesitated. Vampires and pets didn't mix well. But Cecília's compassion was irresistible. "What shall we name it?"
"Midnight," she decided. "For the way its fur shimmers in the moonlight."
And so, Midnight became their secret. They fed it scraps of meat, watched it chase shadows, and laughed as it pounced on invisible foes.
But love was fragile. Bóris knew that. When Count Rogério discovered their affair, he challenged Bóris to a duel. Cecília watched, torn between loyalty and love.
Bóris fought, his immortal strength against Rogério's rage. The castle walls echoed with clashing swords. But it was Cecília who stepped between them, her eyes fierce.
"Stop!" she cried. "This madness ends now."
Rogério sneered. "Choose, Cecília. Me or the vampire."
She turned to Bóris, her voice trembling. "I choose love."
And so, they fled—Cecília, Bóris, and Midnight. They found refuge in a hidden cottage, far from prying eyes. The kitten curled by the hearth, its purrs a lullaby.
Days turned into weeks. Bóris reveled in the simple joys—sunsets, shared meals, and Cecília's laughter. But he knew their happiness was borrowed. Vampires didn't age, but Cecília did.
One night, as the fire crackled, Cecília whispered, "Bóris, I want to adopt another pet."
He raised an eyebrow. "Another?"
She smiled. "A puppy. To keep Midnight company."
And so, they ventured to the nearby village, where a litter of puppies tumbled over each other. Cecília chose a golden retriever, naming him Sol. Midnight eyed him warily, but soon they became inseparable.
As the seasons changed, so did Cecília. Her hair silvered, her steps slower. Bóris watched, helpless, as time etched lines on her face.
One evening, Cecília lay in bed, her breaths shallow. Bóris held her hand, tears unshed. "I love you," he whispered.
She smiled. "Forever, my vampire."
And when Cecília closed her eyes for the last time, Bóris vowed to honor her memory. He buried her in the garden, next to Midnight and Sol. Their spirits danced among the flowers, whispering secrets to the wind.
Bóris continued to watch over the cottage, the pets, and the memories. Love, he realized, wasn't about eternity—it was about these fleeting moments, shared with those who touched our souls.
And so, under the moon's watchful gaze, Bóris Vladescu—the vampire who loved—lived on, surrounded by whispers of forever.
