Night spread its wings over Vancouver, draping the city in a thin veil of drizzle that slicked the asphalt and made the shopfronts and lampposts glow like small reflected stars.
Liam Thomas walked slowly along a quiet downtown street, savoring the gentle calm of the night after an exhausting day at work.
The air carried the faint scent of wet earth mixed with freshly brewed coffee drifting from a nearby café.
Distant cars passed on far-off streets, their sounds mingling with the soft rustle of wind weaving through rain-dampened leaves.
He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them, thinking how pleasant it would be to get home, pour a hot cup of coffee, and lose himself in the pages of some forgotten book—letting the worries of the day dissolve line by line.
But his thoughts were interrupted by a figure crossing quickly in front of him.
His heart leapt at the sight of a long black coat, that elegant posture, hair perfectly gathered.
His instinct spoke before his mind could—calling her name almost unconsciously.
"Alessia? I didn't know you were around here!" he said aloud, half-surprised, half-genuinely glad.
Alessia stopped immediately and turned toward him with a smile that tried to appear natural, though Liam noticed a trace of tension behind it.
"Liam, hi. Wow, you startled me," she replied softly, adjusting her coat in a nervous little gesture. "I'm running late—I work nearby."
Liam raised an eyebrow, both surprised and curious.
"Work? At this hour?"
Alessia let out a small laugh—light, almost melodic—that eased some of the initial strain.
"Yes. I work nights, at a bar up north," she said with casual grace. "Nothing fancy—just serving drinks and waiting tables. I like the quiet. Night feels… more natural to me, you know?"
Liam smiled, intrigued by this new fragment of the puzzle that was Alessia.
"Makes sense," he said gently. "You've always had that mysterious aura. I guess now I know why."
She looked down briefly—almost shy, for the first time since he'd met her.
"And during the day, honestly, I have no energy left," Alessia continued. "I work late, so I sleep until noon, cook something simple, read a bit. My life's not very exciting. Sorry if that disappoints you."
"Quite the opposite," Liam said, stepping closer. "Sometimes the quietest people are the ones with the deepest worlds inside."
Alessia lifted her gaze slowly, a sincere smile softening her lips—tinged with a melancholy he couldn't fully decipher.
A sudden chill rolled through the street, and Liam shivered slightly.
She noticed instantly. Without thinking, Alessia reached out—her gloved hands delicately straightening the scarf around his neck.
The touch was brief but charged with an unexpected warmth that made his breath hitch, as if the world had paused for a second.
"You should take better care of yourself," she whispered, eyes glimmering. "The cold in this city is treacherous."
Liam swallowed hard, unable to look away from her eyes, which suddenly seemed so vulnerable.
"I'd like to visit you at work someday," he said at last, breaking the intimate silence between them.
She hesitated before answering, her smile fading into a thoughtful calm.
"When I'm ready for you to see that side of me… I'll invite you."
Liam nodded slowly, respecting the small boundary she wished to keep.
"I'll be waiting, then."
After a simple wave goodbye, he watched her walk away—her figure dissolving under the soft amber light of the streetlamps.
…
In the early twilight of dawn, Alessia arrived at her apartment, closing the door behind her with a quiet sigh—part relief, part a nameless sadness that never quite left her.
The place was a carefully kept refuge—elegant, simple, and somehow comforting, though every object reminded her of her solitude: shelves lined with old books that seemed to watch her in silence, a teapot still steaming patiently on the table, an old sweater draped over a chair offering ghostly comfort, and a candle whose faint vanilla scent softened, just barely, the melancholy saturating the room.
She approached the mirror in the entryway.
Before her—emptiness. No reflection, only the cruel void that reminded her what she was, and what she could never be.
A sharp mix of frustration and sorrow pressed against her chest, deepening the isolation from the human world she so desperately longed to belong to.
She brushed her fingers along the cold glass, wishing that, just once, the image of a normal woman—with dreams and a pulse and hopes—might look back at her, offering peace.
Closing her eyes, she tried to picture herself as Liam saw her: an ordinary woman with a quiet life, capable of love, serenity… perhaps even happiness.
She walked to the window, holding a glass of wine carefully laced with a few drops of blood she kept stored in the fridge.
Her tired eyes scanned the street below, her mind drifting into deep, tender thoughts.
"What if this time… I could actually have a life?" she whispered to no one, letting the words hang in the stillness of her apartment.
Outside, something caught her attention—a young mother carrying her baby in the middle of the night, cradling him close as she laughed softly.
Alessia felt a lump rise in her throat, and her expression hardened.
Unconsciously, her hand drifted to her abdomen, touching it briefly, a pang of pain flaring—not physical, but old, buried deep.
A memory struck her—sharp and bitter.
She was standing before a circle of vampires, their eyes gleaming with savage hunger, demanding she join their nocturnal feasts that ended in human screams.
Her refusal had been absolute—and dangerous. She could still feel their cold, mocking gazes condemning her to eternal solitude for choosing restraint over bloodlust.
And then the memory turned crueler: the moment the man she had once loved deeply—the vampire who had whispered eternal promises beneath silver moons—turned his back on her, choosing another.
A woman as ruthless as she was powerful, perfect for his dark ambitions.
Leaving Alessia broken, abandoned, and wrapped in shadow.
She pulled her hand away from her abdomen abruptly, crushing the foolish dream that she could ever deserve something as human as motherhood.
In the hush of her apartment, she drank from her glass slowly, letting the warmth offer minimal solace.
She knew Liam represented danger—a fragile dream, something real, something worth risking for.
But she feared that very desire might one day become her ruin.
Outside, the night moved on—indifferent to the storm within her.
Curled in her self-imposed solitude, one truth remained clear in her mind:
Perhaps she hadn't come to Vancouver merely to escape her painful past.
Perhaps she had come chasing a future she longed for with desperate hope—one that could either save her… or destroy her forever.
Because this time, maybe, Alessia could finally allow herself to live.