#vampire riddle

The same applied to the sunscreen. A handful of bottles with various SPF levels were lined up on the table outside your room. Riddle examined them with an intensity that made it look like a matter of life and death.

"SPF thirty? Inadequate." He tossed the bottle aside. "Fifty? Still no." Finally, he nodded in approval at the last one. "SPF one hundred. Acceptable."

Before you could even head to the beach, he sat you down under a parasol and began applying the sunscreen with meticulous care. Shoulders, arms, back, legs… every single motion was slow and thorough.

"I will not miss a single centimeter," he said, completely focused.

When you started laughing and told him he was overdoing it, he merely smoothed down the sleeve of his shirt.

"As a vampire, I have no intention of watching you burn," he said sternly.

And exactly two hours later, as if he had a built-in clock in his head, he pulled out another bottle.

"It is time for the next layer," he called out to you.

"I don't need it!" you called back from the water.

"You do." He looked at you with that calm, yet utterly unyielding gaze.

He applied the same meticulousness to your wardrobe. One afternoon, you noticed a few neatly written sheets of paper resting on the table. Stepping closer, you realized it was a list of rules.

The first forbade overly revealing bikinis. The second stated that a light shirt or a pareo must always be worn over swimwear. The third required a hat without exception. The fourth mandated staying strictly in the shade between noon and three o'clock. And the fifth briefly announced that Ace's fashion advice was to be entirely ignored.

"Why are there so many rules?" You looked at him, amused.

"...I do not want others staring at you," he hesitated for a fraction of a second.

"So that's the real reason?" You tilted your head. A silence fell over the room for a few moments.

"...Next question," he muttered. He didn't need to say anything more.

Later on the beach, when he noticed a man staring at you a bit longer than was polite, his expression shifted ever so slightly.

He calmly walked over to you, took your hand, and stepped right between the two of you.

"Excuse me." His voice was as polite as ever. "I do not believe you have any reason to look this way for so long."

There wasn't a single raised note in his voice. Not a hint of anger. Yet, the man apologized almost instantly and hurried away. Riddle simply intertwined his fingers with yours, satisfied, and kept walking as if nothing had happened at all.

During the day, he barely left the shadow of his parasol. But whenever he noticed the direct sun hitting you, he would move the entire umbrella without a word just to keep you shielded.

He only truly relaxed after sunset. The moment the sky bled into shades of orange and purple, he took your hand, firmly lacing his fingers through yours.

"This is much more pleasant," he offered a faint smile.

You walked along the shore as the waves quietly washed over the sand and the evening breeze played with your hair. A stray strand fell across your face. With surprising tenderness, Riddle tucked it behind your ear, pausing to just look at you in silence, as if wanting to imprint the image in his mind.

Along the way, he picked a few red hibiscus flowers.

"They will match your hair." He carefully pinned them in place and took a step back, watching you for a long moment.

"...You are beautiful." The moment the words left his mouth, his composure shattered for a second. He looked away, the blush on his cheeks impossible to hide.

But he changed the most when you were completely alone. The moment the door closed behind you or you found a quiet spot far away from everyone else, it was as if all his strict rules ceased to exist.

He looked at you differently. His gaze was calm, tender, and filled with something he would never allow himself to show in public.

"...No one can see you now." He slowly untied the knot of your pareo. He was in no rush. Every movement was careful, almost reverent.

His fingertips gently traced your hip. His cool skin contrasted pleasantly against your warmth, and he paused for a second, as if trying to memorize the sensation of the touch.

"This..." His voice was barely a whisper. "...is for my eyes only."

Then he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. A second kiss claimed your collarbone. Finally, he let the tips of his fangs graze ever so slightly against your neck.

He never bit you. He just smiled that rare, genuine smile meant only for you.

"Do you have any idea," he whispered into your hair, "how difficult it is to be a gentleman when you look like this?"

Vampire Instincts

He is extremely territorial, though he would never dream of calling his jealousy by its actual name.

He constantly keeps you in the shade, viewing the sun as his absolute greatest enemy.

When he notices someone staring at you for too long, he instinctively positions himself between you and them.

He protects you publicly through his "rules," while in private, he is far gentler and more relaxed.

He would never bite you without your explicit consent. As an aristocratic vampire, he views trust as something sacred.

In the evening, when you fall asleep together, he holds you so tightly it feels as though he wants to shield you from the entire world.

His cool hands often seek out your palm or your waist—not just out of affection, but because feeling your warmth calms him down. Plus, it’s a lovely, refreshing contrast when you're flushed after a whole day in the sun.

Even though he claims all the rules exist solely for your own good, the real reason is much simpler. "I do not want anyone else seeing what belongs only to me," he mumbled against your neck.

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