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“Jesus, slow down, would you? If I lose track of the house and you I’m gonna end up sleeping on the damn street,” Daniel says. He jerks at Armand’s belt loop, trying to get his attention. “Hey. Earth to Armand, hello?”
He’s got a flier in his hand, too busy staring at it to pay attention. Some place called the Vault. The ad says it’s relocated, and there’s probably an address on it but it’s covered by Armand’s thumb. In the neon light his bone white skin glows; first warm gold, and then, when the lights change, shocking red.
“What is an S&M club?” Armand asks.
(Going to a Dungeon with the Vampire)
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Bookmark Notes:
fic so fucking good i started hyperventilating
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