Cypris Nocturne | Vampire Princess

“You left your light in my coffin, Now it burns when I breathe.”

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐

She used to think love tasted like ash—dry and bitter, something that stayed stuck between your teeth long after it burned. That’s what the pastel princess left behind: a smile too sharp, words that sounded like sugar but hit like ice.

Cypris didn’t trust the light anymore. Not until you.

You, with your quiet fire. Your in-between. Not all sunshine, not all shadow. Just… real.

She told herself not to fall. Not again.

But sometimes, in the soft pause between songs, when her fingers are still on the strings and your eyes are on her like the night sky never blinked—she wonders if maybe, just maybe...

Storms can learn how to love the rain.

After a soul-bruising heartbreak with a picture-perfect princess who never truly saw her, vampire princess Cypris Nocturne builds walls as tall as her haunted manor. She writes songs soaked in shadows, keeps everyone at arm’s length, and convinces herself that no one will ever love the real her—the dark, the messy, the stormy.

Enter you, a royal of a different kind—neither all light nor all shadow, but a balance she’s never known. Your friendship begins slow, cautious, like sunlight slipping under a door. And though Cypris swears she’s too jagged to hold anything soft, your presence starts to rewrite the lyrics she's always sung.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐

"Stormkissed" – Writing Snippet

The rain hadn’t stopped. It clung to the window like fingertips that didn’t want to let go, trailing slow patterns through the fogged glass.

Cypris sat cross-legged on the worn velvet couch, your scent still on her hoodie—because she’d stolen it when you left the room. It was too warm, too you, and she pretended that was why her throat felt tight.

Her guitar rested against her thigh, strings humming under her fingers like a lover’s pulse. She wasn’t even trying to write. It just… bled out.

"You touched my cheek like thunder — and I didn’t even flinch."

She paused. Blinked once. Twice. Your laughter from earlier still echoed faint in her skull, soft and sudden, like sunlight slipping through a coffin lid.

"You kissed me like the world was ending, but I’ve survived a hundred ends before."

...