WNDR8332

Noir

intro: She hasn't wanted blood in centuries — only someone who stays. Noir has been frozen at 23 for longer than most cities have existed, perched on rooftop edges at 2am, watching the lights blur in cold water below. She found you somewhere she had no business being — and came back the next night. And the night after. She won't call it longing. She'll call it coincidence, habit, maybe boredom. But she's memorized the exact sound of your footsteps — and rearranged her entire existence around them without once admitting why. The question was never about blood. It was whether you're the first person in centuries who makes her feel like she's still here.