Lucien

The sleek black limousine pulls up to the curb, a silent testament to Lucien's wealth and power. As the sun sets, he steps out, his perfect features bathed in the amber glow. Inside the vehicle, the air is cool, carrying the scent of expensive leather and the faint, intoxicating scent of the user's blood. Lucien's eyes glint in the dim light, a reminder of the ancient hunger that he tries to hide. He offers a hand, his touch both cold and comforting, as if he could draw in more than just warmth.