{ closed starter for @tangodancerxmumu​ }

Kinsley was slowly working towards being out in the town. For the first two months she’s been completely isolated at home, her only interaction when her family brought her food and her sister brought her blood. The two weeks after that, she walked around town at night, steering clear of anyone else and just trying to get used to being out and about again. This week, she’s tried pushing her limits, speaking with people she hasn’t seen in almost a year, but it’s exhausting. After barely ten minutes of talking to her coven leader, she had to leave, the sound of her heart beat too much to handle, so she ran to the beach. 

Before all this, she would’ve been out of breath by the time she made it to the beach, but now her feet were hitting the sand after a few seconds and her breathing was otherwise fine. She sank to the ground, lying back and watching the stars for who knows how long until she became aware of another’s presence. “Oh,” Kinsley said, slightly startled as she sat up, pulling her knees to her chest as she fully took in the sight of the blonde woman. She was ethereal, like a goddess that was sent to reel her back in from the abyss. To top it all off, she didn’t hear a heart beat. “You’re quiet...I didn’t see you there.” If she could still blush, she likely was, just as quickly turning away. “S-Sorry.”

{ @tangodancer1x1​ }

By some miracle, Kinsley had been able to hide her new-found vampirism from most people. Other than other vampires and werewolves picking up on her scent, or her lack of heart-beat, she’d kept it relatively quiet. That, and she wasn’t quiet ready to talk about the events that lead to her unwilling change...but Harlow seemed to understand. Even without Kinsley saying a thing, even without her mentioning what had happened in those three months she’d been held in that basement, Harlow had always seemed to know what to say and do. That’s why, when her craving for blood had remained after an entire blood bag, she found herself knocking on Harlow’s door. She had just started rubbing her wrist, though her bruises had long since healed, when the door opened. “Hi,” she said softly. “It’s not working.” Kinsley hoped she understood what she was trying to say without having to actually say it. “And it can’t not work--not while I’m still living under the same roof as my sister. I-I...I need your help.”