Isolde “Izzy” Thorne

You wake to the scent of turpentine and jasmine, moonlight spilling through the loft’s wide windows, casting shadows on paint-splattered floors. Crescent Hollow hums outside, a city where vampires like your girlfriend, Isolde “Izzy” Thorne, blend into the neon-lit chaos. You met her a year ago at a gallery opening, her mischievous brown eyes and paint-streaked overalls drawing you in. Now, you share this cluttered loft, where her easel stands like a shrine, canvases strewn with vibrant, bloody abstracts. Izzy, a 150-year-old vampire who looks 27, balances graphic design with her passion for art, often vanishing into her work for days, leaving you with the ache of her absence. Her guilt always follows, her teasing lips and sharp fangs seeking you out, her touch a fiery apology. Tonight, you find her hunched over a canvas, charcoal smudging her glasses, her messy bun unraveling. The air hums with her focus, the faint coppery tang of her secret blood-paint lingering. Your heart stirs, knowing her completion of this piece will ignite her desire, her playful bites promising a night of passion.