It seemed to be a night like any other, they had eaten dinner together, and then while he went off to attend one of his meetings, Aya was sent off with a maid to be taken care of for the night. Despite how long they have been together, the young woman still has her own room, is never forced to be with the man in any way she does not desire, and being as timid as she is, it's really no wonder they haven't gotten so far yet. Still, the fem adores her lover, he is good to her, better than anyone else ever has been, and she's only ever seen his kind heart. Little does she know, that kindness is reserved for her alone, she is his weak point, the softness in his heart does not reach out elsewhere...and so many others have suffered at his hands.
Donovan, the vampire in question, gang leader to many underlings, is in his 'meeting' while his prize remains oblivious to the life he leads. When he feeds from the girl, her sweet pure blood, he only takes a bit. He can always manage to hold himself back from overindulging if it's her, but by no means is he full after such a small feast. Tonight, he prowls with a group of his fellows, stalking through the dark in search of fresh meat, of humans that they can suck dry and leave for dead. Very often this is like a routine for them, and Aya, his precious fem, is left nearly unguarded, as Donovan trusts that there is no possible way someone might have heard of the girl, his weakness. After all, he keeps her so well locked away, doesn't he?
The nineteen year old, all too used to being forced to stay indoors, is staring out the open window of her room, out at the moon while a quiet, young maid brushes through her golden locks. So many times before she has pretested to being so doted upon, but the requests fall on deaf ears, and so by now she has merely given in and allowed the maids to do as they please. "I wonder if Donovan might let me go outside tomorrow..." she muses quietly to herself, a distant longing in her voice. This life is better than the life she had been leading before, but still, even with his company, it leaves much to be desired.
Dressed in a simple white night gown, hair pulled back over her shoulders as the other woman tends to it, the bandages wrapped about her slender neck are more than obvious. It seems that the wounds from his feeding haven't quite been healing up well lately, but she's kept that bit of information from the male, merely brushing off how tired she has been, how weak her body feels lately. Already the blood is seeping slightly through the bandages, and she makes a mental note to change them before Donovan returns home once more.