Electric
It is one of those nights. The nights where all he has to do is tilt his head and narrow his eyes, and he has my immediate attention. That sharp dart of a glance is all that I need to know that shortly, whatever we are currently doing will cease to matter. I let my eyes linger on the fine curve of his throat, and then lift my gaze to his with a heat that has everything to do with him and little to do with thirst. I do not have to drink from him. I do not have to hunt. But one look and the air between us is dangerously electric, taut with possibility unexplored and enough heat to raze buildings to the ground.