Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader
AU: Vampire
Word Count: ~ 5,564
Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood
A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who've been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜
PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I'm so proud of our girl!
Happy reading! <3
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Saturday, October 31st
You look like an idiot.
The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best.
A bonafide, absolute idiot.
When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.
"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out.
"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning.
"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time.
Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.
Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.
Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight.
Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!
Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛
Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!
The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.
Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word.
"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession.
There's no way you think this one looks bad.
"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck.
"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features.
"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too."
"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."
You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter.
"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all."
"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier.
The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely.... something... and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday.
"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool.
"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend.
"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door.
"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh.
---
20 Minutes Later -- The Party
Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week.
"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday..."
"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees.
"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling."
Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests.
Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways.
*knock knock*
A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.
A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies.
Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.
Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair.
"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks.
"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again.
After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this.
"Can't... breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you.
"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here."
The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before.
"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile.
Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side.
Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes.
"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?"
Jackson.
You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down.
Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing.
Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away.
But alas, she doesn't.
Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight.
For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes.
"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.
You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see."
You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality.
"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.
He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner.
"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying."
Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you.
15 Minutes Later
Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation.
In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people.
"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks.
"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party."
You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?"
"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one."
You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?"
Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me."
"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip.
PFFT
"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!"
Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks.
The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter.
"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me."
Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer.
You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets.
The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else.
You can get your own revenge.
Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them.
It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you.
After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion.
Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away.
"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes.
Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later.
Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen.
"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers.
The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her.
"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall.
Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.
Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge.
A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun.
"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are.
Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover.
Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path.
Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up.
Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you.
Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you.
Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be.
She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers.
"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!"
Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting.
Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.
Damnit. Someone's in there now.
Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath.
"What's wrong?"
There's that voice again.
Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it.
"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me."
The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like."
"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches.
"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas.
You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads.
Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little.
"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.
Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled.
Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters.
When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs.
When did that happen?
You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you.
Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you.
Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.
The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment.
She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy.
You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.
"So, um... thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her.
The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against.
"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time.
There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?
The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now.
"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly.
"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to.
"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out.
"I'm Lisa."
"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease.
"Likewise, beautiful."
The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced.
She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips.
"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing.
"That I'd love to have your body on mine again."
She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire.
You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes.
"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise.
"That sounds wonderful."
She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever.
She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.
She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close.
Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed.
Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off.
When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up.
"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors.
A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof.
"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you.
Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.
"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over.
Shit, Lisa thinks to herself.
Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away.
But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window.
You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now.
"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building.
Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations.
She does a twirl, looking around.
"It's gorgeous."
"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up.
"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company... it's perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out.
Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms.
"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her.
She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months."
Not a total lie, she thinks to herself.
"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking.
She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains.
Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters.
"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."
"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh.
"Maybe, but it's the truth."
"Sure, Lisa."
She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms.
The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace.
The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song.
Turning Page, you recognize it as.
Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites.
Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too."
How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud...
Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it.
You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you.
"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"
She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is.
"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush"
She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly.
"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"
Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you.
"I would have known what I was living for all along"
You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second.
She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss.
Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping.
She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up.
"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck.
She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late.
Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey.
Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too.
Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her.
"Please..."
That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more.
Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go.
She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.
When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there.
Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before.
Definitely not a hickie.
Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there.
"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask.
"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.
"Same as yours," she smiles.