ptv oneshots

my dracula lover-3

TW: 16+

Bad grammar.

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As Murtasim pressed his lips to the wound on Meerab's neck, a flood of emotions washed over him, overwhelming his senses and clouding his thoughts. He felt a strange stirring in his chest, a sensation he hadn't experienced in centuries. It was as if something deep within him had been awakened, a long-forgotten memory clawing its way to the surface of his consciousness.

As he gazed down at Meerab's pale face, he felt a pang of guilt gnawing at his insides.

What were these emotions?

And there was something else, something he couldn't quite name. It was a longing, a yearning for something he had lost so long ago. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. But they persisted, flashing before his eyes like fragments of a shattered mirror.

He saw a woman, her face etched with sorrow and regret, in a bridal attire burning. He saw himself, a shadow of the man he once was trying to reach towards her, to pull her out of tge burning inferno but he couldn't. He heard her voice, soft and gentle like a whisper on the wind, calling out to him across the vast expanse of time and space.

'Karthik... I don't wanna marry him. Let's runaway'

Her voice invoked something, he felt it. A twinge in his chest, a fluttering of his heart that sent shockwaves of pain coursing through his veins. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in centuries, a feeling he had long since forgotten. It was love.

As Murtasim opened his eyes, he found himself staring into Meerab's wide, frightened eyes. He saw the fear and uncertainty reflected in her gaze, but he also saw something else. Something that stirred his soul and filled him with a strange sense of warmth, those eyes were similar to the ones he just saw in his haze.

Without thinking, he removed his fangs from her neck and pressed a gentle kiss to the wound, his lips lingering against her skin. She lost her conciousness so picked her up and gently placed her on the bed. He was still thirsty for blood, but he couldn't bring himself to hurt her.

It was odd.

His instincts screamed at him to feed, to quench his thirst with the lifeblood of another. But as he gazed down at Meerab's still form, he felt a strange sense of protectiveness wash over him. She was vulnerable, defenseless, and yet there was a strength in her that he couldn't ignore.

Maybe it was her blood.

As he turned away from the bed, he looked at the window and jumped out, in the street he found a man holding down a young girl. He picked him up with his one hand, the young woman who was about to thank him saw his red eyes and ran away.

He was still thirsty...

He opened his mouth revealing his fangs and attacked the man, sinking his teeth into his neck.

The blood entered his mouth and Murtasim recoiled from the bitter taste of the drunk man's blood, a wave of revulsion washed over him. He spat out the foul liquid, his lips curling into a sneer of disgust.

Why was her blood so sweet, so intoxicating, while this man's was nothing but bitter disappointment?

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the conflicting thoughts that swirled within. He was a vampire, a predator of the night, driven by his insatiable thirst for blood. There was no room for sentimentality, no place for remorse, or taste. He had fed, and that was all that mattered.

But his mind began to wander. to the man who now lay lifeless on the ground. He knelt beside him, his cold fingers searching for a pulse. But there was nothing. The man was dead, his life extinguished by Murtasim's own hand.