Reincarnated as Dracula’s Son

The cafeteria was alive with the noise of lunchtime chatter, a chaotic wave of voices and laughter as the students of the academy devoured their midday meals.

In a secluded corner, however, Damian sat with his back to the crowd, his fingers drumming idly on the tabletop as he stared into the depths of a cup of coffee long since grown cold.

Beside him, Tyrion, the flaxen-haired boy who had quickly become his closest friend, was speaking animatedly, his mouth full of lettuce and enthusiasm as he recounted some wild tale from his latest adventure.

Tyrion was in the midst of regaling Damian with the tale of his latest game, his eyes alight with enthusiasm as he wove a vivid tapestry of thrills and excitement.

"So anyway," Tyrion exclaimed, wiping a few crumbs of salad from his chin, "and that's when I grabbed the burning torches from the nearby braziers and threw them right into the beast's eyes. It was amazing!"

"Hmm?" Damian's head snapped up, his thoughts still far away, as he tried to focus on his friend's animated storytelling. "Sounds like quite the story.

The clatter and hum of the bustling cafeteria was interrupted by a familiar voice, and Damian glanced up to see Yvonne and her friend, a girl with braces and glasses, stopping by their table.

"Hey there, boys!" Yvonne said, flashing them a grin that lit up the room. "Hope we're not interrupting anything."

"No, no, not at all!" Tyrion said, gesturing for them to take a seat. "The more, the merrier."

The two girls joined them at the table, the four of them chatting amiably for a few moments as they caught up on the latest happenings around the academy.

Damian, still distracted by the memory of the night before, half-listened to the girls' animated chatter, his eyes occasionally flitting towards the entrance to the cafeteria, as if expecting someone or something to appear.

Finally, Yvonne and her friend rose to leave, bidding the boys a cheery farewell as they rejoined their friends at another table.

With the intention of quenching his thirst and clearing his mind, Damian made his way to the vending machine, navigating the bustling halls of the academy with a purposeful stride.

As he approached the machine, his eyes alighted upon a sight that left him momentarily stunned. Standing before him was a girl whose beauty seemed to outshine the midday sun.

Probably the most beautiful girl he had seen so far, in this school.

Damian's eyes swept over the girl, taking in her understated yet undeniably captivating features. Her hair, a cascade of shimmering blonde that fell just past her shoulders, was combed back in a sleek, simple style that accentuated her long, graceful neck.

Her clothing, while simple and unassuming, seemed to highlight the natural contours of her body in a way that left him speechless.

A plain pink shirt, cinched at the waist with a thin belt, and a short black skirt that showcased her long, slender legs in a way that made his pulse quicken.

Drawn to the mysterious allure of the girl standing before the vending machine, Damian's eyes roamed over her delicate features and understated beauty, his pulse quickening in tandem with his rising excitement.

Gathering his resolve, he approached her with a smile that radiated charm and playfulness, a smile that had proven irresistible to countless women in the past.

Pointing at the cute, cat ears, pink headphones which hung around her neck, he said, "Cute headphones. Are those the kind that cancel out all other noise, or just the kind that make everyone else want to listen to your music?"

The girl, seemingly disturbed by the interruption, lifted her gaze to meet Damian's with a look that could freeze fire, her delicate features hardening into a look of icy disdain that made it clear that his attempt at charm had fallen flat.

The silence between them stretched taut and heavy, the sharp clatter of a nearby vending machine the only sound to break through the electric tension in the air.

Damian could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he realized he had misjudged the situation, his attempt at a light-hearted compliment crashing and burning in the face of her chilly response.

Ouch!

Damian, taken aback by the girl's icy response, pressed on in his attempt to strike up a conversation. "I said your headphones are cute", Damian repeated, the words tumbling out of his mouth with an awkwardness that he couldn't quite seem to shake, his usually effortless charm proving futile against the girl's icy demeanor.

The girl's eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a frigid chill, "I heard you the first time," she snapped, her words cutting through the air like a blade as she fixed him with a withering glare.

Confusion settled over Damian like a heavy fog, his mind racing as he struggled to reconcile the ice queen before him with the bevy of admirers he had collected since arriving at the academy. His presence, both on and off the field, had garnered the attention of countless girls, their breathless whispers and giggles filling the air around him like a cloud of admiration.

Even some of the female teachers had been caught stealing glances in his direction, their gazes lingering a moment too long for them to be considered purely professional, so what was wrong with this girl infront of him?

Damian's expression contorted into a jumble of emotions, his face the map of a thousand internal battles as he grappled with his bruised ego and the unfamiliar sensation of being rebuffed.

His eyes, dark and soulful, bore into the girl's unyielding gaze, their depths brimming with a tumult of emotions: confusion, frustration, and a quiet, uncertain vulnerability that belied his usual air of self-assuredness.

His lips, once curved in a confident smile, now set in a solemn line as he struggled to find the words to untangle himself from this unexpected predicament.

"I was just trying to be nice," he said, raising his hands in the form of peace, the words now tinged with a note of vulnerability as he struggled to make sense of this strange and unfamiliar situation.

"Well, stop trying", she replied sharply, in the same curt voice.