A dark romance plays out here, as the red rose at the wrist apes the welling life-blood. The droplets drip through lacy blackness, chaining one more soul to the dark side.
Is escape even possible now? It's about nothing so crude as food for survival anymore. It's about passion and the heart's desire. It's seductive. The human's hand has been given in chains, but it's a union nonetheless.
The last great drop of crystal blood is practically on the ring finger. It's a terrible betrothal, doomed to end in tragedy. Neither will linger long upon the words 'until death do us part'. Time is ticking relentlessly, inevitably towards that very state.
If she gives herself entirely, offering up the very last that she has to give him, then the pact is sealed. The blood turns black on her marriage band.
The red rose of romance is frozen in memory, framed by a pewter surround. It's a keepsake memorial. The final testimony to a love that is too intense, too all consuming to go on.
And if the human's veins produce the last welling of sustenance to her dark master, then it emerges in lace and velvet decay.
She is lost. The chains which bound her to this dark marriage finally have no meaning. Her spirit is free, her heart pounds no more with the strain of surrender. But her vampire lover remembers. In endless loneliness and regret, he carries their brief passion into eternity.