There is something different about tonight.

My schoolwork is spread all over my bed as I glance at him frequently. Despite all my concentration, my mind cannot seem to focus on any of my texts. I keep feeling antsy as I try to get in a better position. Eventually, I give up and scroll on my bone.

I check my phone and realize it's a full moon.

Oh, fuck.

It's the first full moon we are spending together. I gulp at the realization. With everything going on, I completely forgot, despite always marking it on my calendar. Before Soren was by my side, this was when the nightmares were the worst as the moon amplified our bonds.

Now, he's almost an arm's length away.

"Want to watch a movie?" I grab my projector and adjust the screen to display against my wall.

He puts down his book and nods.

"This is one of my favorite films. It's called Chungking Express. It is a 1994 Hong Kong romantic comedy-drama directed by Wong Kar-wai." I begin to explain as the opening scene displays. This film always grabs my attention and I can watch it multiple times.

I try not to pay attention as he shifts my schoolwork to my desk and stretches himself beside my bed. It almost feels like he is testing me as his body lays dangerously close against mine. I feel his warmth emanating as he wraps his arm comfortably around my shoulder. His other hand lays comfortably placed on top of my thigh.

This might have been the worst thing I've ever suggested.

I try to meditate my raging hormones away.

We watch the film silently, laughing at the funny moments and staring fixated at the solemn moments. I try to focus on the film but my attention keeps being drawn to him. HIs eyes continue to stay fix on the screen, but I can feel his gaze on me once in a while.

I shift uncomfortably, trying to ignore the heat radiating from his body. He leans in closely, his breath tickling my ear. "You seem a little distracted," he whispers.

I try to play it cool, but my hair is standing on its end. My heart almost leaped out of my chest when he said that. "Just focused on the movie."

He chuckles. "Sure, you are." He reaches out and traces a lazy circle on my arm. I shiver, despite my best efforts to remain calm.

Two can play at this game.

I maintain my focus despite my inner turmoil. If the full moon was affecting me, then surely he could also feel it. Yet, he looks perfectly calm and collected. It's quite annoying.

I know I shouldn't touch him, not while we are watching one my favorite movies. But the temptation is too strong.

I slowly reach out and take his hand, which was resting on my thigh. I hold onto it as he squeezes my hand gently, a silent acknowledgement to our little game.

And then the ending scene credits roll onto the scene.

This was the longest one hour and thirty seven minutes of my life.

He turns to me, his eyes filled with a burning intensity that matches my own. I knew what he wants, and I want it too.

With a nod of understanding, he leans in and kisses me again, his lips very gentle this time.

As we pull apart, his eyes rake over me with a hunger that I recognize all too well.

We have been teasing each other all week, a casual flirtation that had slowly escalated into something more. Tonight, as we sat on my bed, watching the movie, something clicked. A shared glance, a knowing smile. And then, he is leaning in again, his lips brushing against mine.

I kiss him back, my heart pounding in my chest. His hands move with a practiced ease, tracing the contours of my face. I lean into his touch, my body pressing against his. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer.

His hands, rough and calloused from years of work leave my body hot as they hold me closely. They trace the contours of my back, sending shivers down my spine.

His lips presses against mine, insistent and deeper. I return the kiss with equal fervor, our tongues dancing. His hands cup the back of my head, pulling me closer. I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling his heart pounding against my chest.

I feel a wave of intention emotion wash over me and it almost freezes me. It doesn't seem to be coming from me, but from him. As if he can sense my own thoughts, he whispers, "I want you, so much."

His voice is rough with desire and seems to echo my own thoughts.

I can taste the heat of his desire on his lips, a sweet, intoxicating scent that fill my senses. His hands move lower, trailing down my back to the waistband of my jeans. I shiver as his fingers graze my skin, a thrill of anticipation running through me.

We seem to be in a frenzy which makes it difficult to differentiate between our own feelings. I can sense him and our bond and he can too.

His lips trail down my neck, leaving a trail of warm kisses. I tilt my head back, allowing him to explore my skin. His teeth gently nips at my neck and I can feel his teeth trail closely to the back of my neck.

He seems to freeze at he comes to realization at how dangerously close he is to marking me. In the heat of the moment, I almost allow him.

When we mark our partners, we draw blood by biting each other at the back of our necks. The wound will heal to show four dots where the incisors penetrated the skin.

"Sorry," he muzzles his nose against my neck before trailing back to my lips. I can feel him fighting against the strong urge to mark, as I also fight against mine.

Somewhere between our frenzy we have taken off our tops. My thin bralette dangerously holds onto its life as I press against his chest.

We seem to pause as we notice our marks glowing. Our eyes are transfixed at the pulsating glow.

"You're beautiful," his intense stare makes me feel shy as they scan all over my torso and arms before making his way to my eyes.

"Simply incredible," he tenderly follows my marks with his lips. The slight touch of his lips grazing my skin brings goosebumps to my skin. When his lips almost meet mine, he seems to pause--just barely touching, a little teasing.

I narrow my eyes as he smirks.

I gently push him away as I take a moment to recollect myself. I also watch his marks swirling against his torso and arms. He has a few long scars that are hidden under the marks.

"What's this?" I look at a small scar-like symbol in the center of his chest. It seems like a sigil in such a faint color I almost miss it. I reach out to touch it but he stops my finger.

"It's a burn from my childhood," he whispers as he presses his palm against mine as he presses his body against mine.

He leans in and kisses me again, his lips just as demanding. I return the kiss with equal fervor as my hands squeeze his forearms.

I could get used to this. I briefly admire his toned biceps and feel his abdominal muscles. The veins along his forearms bulge as he lifts me on top of his lap and continues to deepen his kiss as if he is devouring me. I feel the rise and fall of our chests and rhythmic beat of our hearts synchronize as one.

He presses his lips against my forehead and hugs me gently but tightly.

I wrap my hands around his back just as tightly.

He pauses before letting go and sitting up to the side. My body misses his warmth as soon as he lets go.

I watch him quietly in silence as I slowly regain my composure.

"The lunar effects are not a joke," his voice comes out strained as he puts on his shirt and adjusts his clothing.

"As much as I'd love to continue, we shouldn't," he says firmly as I continue to stare at him.

"No," he shakes his head as if he can sense my feelings, which he probably can.

"I didn't say anything," I shake my head.

"But you felt it," he admits.

"I'm trying to stay in control and you're not helping," he clears his throat as he sits on the couch with his book to give us some distance. "I almost marked you in the heat of the moment."

"But you didn't," I protest.

"I know," he nods.

"Fine," I almost pout and decide to get ready for bed. Despite our entire time together, I had yet to see him sleep. He says he is rested but yet I always fall asleep to him watching silently over me.

__

Something in the air feels off. This time it's in a bad way. I shift under my blanket, my eyes flickering to where I last saw Soren. Instead, the blanket is folded neatly on the armrest with the book placed on top.

The room is dark, the kind of stillness that should feel peaceful, but tonight it feels like a warning.

Then, a sound. Quiet. Almost imperceptible.

But not to me. Not with the full moon outside. It sharpens everything, heightening my senses. My pulse quickens, and I sit up, straining to listen.

Soren presses his back against the wall and glances at me, wordlessly telling me to stay low. He looks at the front door and waits, hidden from the line of sight.

I am already out of my bed and throw on the clothes closest to me.

We wait.

I hold onto my set of daggers and clench them tightly in my palms.

The door bursts inward as four figure rush in quickly. Their movements are coordinated and precise, much more than the previous attackers. These are a different breed.

They didn't expect Soren to be here, though. That much is clear from the shock that flashes in their eyes for a split second as Soren uses the element of surprise. He moves first, faster than I've ever seen. He launches himself at the closest attacker, disarming him with brutal efficiency. The sound of bone cracking echoes in the room, followed by a pained grunt. He's relentless, taking two of them at once, his movements precise and deadly.

I don't have time to think. I'm on my feet, my body already reacting to the danger. The full moon surges through me, amplifying my strength, but it's a double-edged sword. I know they're Kindred too, and that means they're just as strong as I am tonight. Maybe stronger.

I'm not at full strength yet, still recovering from the last fight, but I can't just stand by. One of the attackers breaks away from the others, lunging at me with a blade, and I duck, my body reacting out of instinct. I block with my daggers and cut him deeply in the chest. He recovers quickly—too quickly—and I barely dodge the second blow. The blade whizzes past my cheek dangerously as I feel the slice of cold air.

The air is thick with adrenaline, the room a blur of movement and noise. Soren's fighting like a storm, his strikes calculated, meant to disable or kill. He takes out two of them without breaking a sweat, but the other two... they're focused on me. They circle, moving in sync, and I can feel the weight of the full moon pressing down on me, amplifying the tension.

I manage to block a strike, then another, but my body is still aching from the last fight, still tender in places I don't want to admit. Their movements are coordinated, weapons drawn, and I see one of them pull out a tranquilizer gun.

I barely dodge it, but it's a close call.

Soren's on them before they can reload, grabbing the man with the gun and slamming him into the wall. But the other guy—the one on me—isn't letting up. He drives me back, forcing me into a corner, and I realize too late that I've been outmaneuvered as he disarms me. He smirks, thinking he's won, but I catch the glint of silver in his hand—another blade. I lunge at him, throwing everything I have into the punch. My knuckles connect with his jaw, but he's ready. He stumbles, then catches my wrist, twisting it painfully.

I cry out, more out of frustration than pain. I should've seen that coming.

Soren takes down the last guy with a vicious elbow to the throat, and it's over before I even register it. The room is still, but the tension lingers. I'm panting, blood rushing through my veins, but I can't let myself relax.

They were here for me. Us. They didn't expect him, but they were after me.

Soren stands over the last guy, his breathing heavy, and there's a wildness in his eyes I've never seen before. It's like he's on the edge, ready to rip them apart, but he holds himself back. Barely.

I glance at him, then at the men on the floor. "They wanted us alive," I say, voice low, my mind spinning with questions. They were trained, well-prepared, and armed.

Soren walks over, his face hard, eyes scanning the room. "They didn't expect me to be here." His voice is dark, edged with anger. "But they'll be back."

He peers closely at the men and take a photo of their uncovered faces. He rifles through their clothing but finds nothing to identify them.

"Pack your things. We need to head out." He abruptly gets up.

I blink at him, barely processing the words. We just fought off four attackers, and my body's still humming with the leftover adrenaline. My arm is sore where I was grazed, but the full moon's helping me heal faster than usual. Soren, though—he looks untouched, as if the fight never happened. He's already in motion, grabbing what little I have in this tiny dorm.

One look at his eyes is all I need. I start packing up my belongings as quickly as I can.

"They're getting bolder," he mutters, already at the door, glancing down the hallway as if someone might come at any second. "But they weren't expecting me to be here. That bought us some time."

Time for what? I want to ask, but the look on his face stops me. This isn't the moment for more questions. He's got answers—answers I'm not sure I'm ready for—but right now, survival is the only thing that matters.

He holds my hand as I take one last look at my room before we head out.