As he laid on his bed and listened to the classical piano music playing from his brother's room, Drogo Bartholy let out a long sigh. He usually put on his headphones to block out the almost constant melancholic music that Peter played, but tonight it matched his mood perfectly. The young vampire looked out the window at the full moon that shined brightly in the sky and scowled. Tonight would have been a perfect night for hunting, but it would have to wait. He knew his self-imposed starvation was absurd at best, but he remained stubborn even as his resolve wavered as the days passed. It wasn't supposed to be like this. His love, his one chance at happiness had disappeared in an instant and he would rather waste away than live an eternity without her by his side.
She'll come back to me... I know she will.
He turned over on the bed and buried his face in the pillow that still carried her scent. Too light for humans, but with his vampiric senses he could still get lost in the light scent of rose perfume that teased his nose. He breathed in deeply, remembering their nights together - the kisses and caresses, words of sweet love, and her blushing cheeks as he declared his feelings for her with every kiss down her beautiful curves. Even though he knew he was torturing himself, he thought of nothing but her sighs and moans of passion as he drank her blood, fed his need for the taste of her, and her alone. He doubled over as his bloodlust screamed for reprieve. He grit his teeth and tried to ignore the cravings that threatened to overtake him.
A single crimson tear fell on the pillowcase, blooming out as the cotton fibers absorbed the bloody proof of his despair.
She'll come back to me.
It was the only buoy he had to cling to as the waves of anguish crashed over him.
