a thing for @elfbled
Snape's black eyes swept over the pale figure before him, sharp as the edge of a blade, his posture taut with restrained hostility - in contrast with the other's languid bearing. While his own presence was a wound in the stillness, unyielding, eyes gleaming like obsidian chips, reflecting nothing but the sharp, calculating mind behind them - the pale one was a predator wrapped in silk, and moved as if he were the night itself, with sanguine eyes, twin rubies gleaming in the dark, that held a glint of amusement, hunger, and something knowing and playful and dangerous. He was a creature of indulgence, every movement a performance of ease - yet beneath the veneer of charm lay something coiled, waiting, that whispered of fangs in the dark and promises best left unheard. Snape shuddered imperceptibly despite himself. His wand hand remained still - but not far from his buttoned sleeve - fingers poised, ready.
"You'll forgive me.." he drawled coolly, though the sharpness in his tone suggested otherwise, "if I fail to extend the usual courtesies. I make it a rule to be wary of creatures with an affinity for the throats of the unwitting."
His gaze lingered for a moment too long, assessing, calculating, perhaps to little avail; vampires were as rare as they were notoriously difficult to repel, let alone conquer. Snape had encountered many insufferable beings in his time - students, colleagues, Dark Lords with theatrical and genocidal tendencies - but this one had the particularly grating quality of looking as if he had just stepped out of a dark romance novel and knew it. A vampire with the smirk of a courtesan and the affectations of a spoiled housecat. Lovely. Just what the night needed - then again, he'd gone out to see for himself if the rumours about the Forbidden Forest were true, so he quashed the petulant voice that reminded him this was entirely his choice.
"And I've no intention of being tonight's unwitting fool." he finally added, with a sneering curl of his thin lip.
