Keira Knightly

 Let's see him decide, as he observes her, at a function in London, and plots.

Keira is truly surprised at the audacity of this stranger. It's not that she thinks being a star entitles her to not be approached, but she is shy, she is private for a reason, and is always on guard. And he truly, truly is bold. But as her breath shortens, she looks into his gaze, and takes his arm.
Now that that he has cast an invisible net on Keira, it is time for logistics. He notices the man that Keira's husband, musician James Righton is talking to. As soon as James leaves, he approaches, the producer, wishing to talk business. Now, he will likely have reason, permission, to enter Keira's household without it looking suspicious, or seemingly connected to her. Their connection will be tangenial, unobserved.

James and Keira are soon invited to join his producer at a dinner at Dracula's townhouse. As the pair walks to the front, a shudder runs down Keira's spine. As if something were watching her. As if death itself was massaging her shoulders.

As the foursome sit for dinner, and converse, Dracula's eye never leaves Keira. There she is, everything an Englishwoman should be. In her years still beautiful, her fresh faced innocence having grown into an elegance that is maternal without being too matronly. To make her break her vows, forsake her duty, he relishes how much more satisfying then simply claiming than the flavor of the week.
The conversation soon turns to somewhat morbid behavior. It's to be expected, the somber British music industry, and even Keira's work delves into such things. At the end, they wonder how the discourse drifted to such a place.

The couple head home, sharing their thoughts about their unsual host.
The name calls out to her, summoning her.

Last coherent, but not without sensation. She feels Dracula's fangs sink into her. The cold sting giving way to euphoria, she gasps, and then let's out a long moan, speaking without fully knowing what she's saying.
James finds Keira alseep on the couch, a scarf wrapped around her neck. He asks if she's alright. Was the movie he picked that bad?
James notices she's zoned out, but tries to dismiss it. She often tends to be in her own head. She might be exhausted. He knows he has a meeting tonight, but he can cancel.

James is more concerned than suspicious, she has had stalkers. Maybe she'll visit a friend's until he comes back. In the meantime, maybe the children can sleep over their friends'?

She was straigthfoward about one thing. As the sun begins to set she does settle in for a nice, warm bath.

She steps out, drying herself with her towel. She hears her name. She clutches it close to her. She steps into her bedroom.
Between pecks, between the movements of hands, she tries to interject. She's married. She has a family. But never stopping. Never opening her eyes.
He guides her to the bed, she lies back.

He sinks his fangs again, Keira's eyes grow wide, she groans, and then pulls him closer to her. Meanwhile, James hurried finishes his work at the studio, anxious to get home, getting into his car
He sees her car, but the house is dark. He falls upstairs. He thinks he hears a response. But it’s moans. Then crying out. Is Keira yelling at someone? There isn’t even another car. Did someone break in? But even if there is a…fury in the voice she definitely isn’t telling anyone to go away.

He cautiously steps toward. The two are ignoring him. The sight it’s horrifying, but for some reason he’s hypnotized by it. He’s paralyzed, even as the blood rushes throughout his body.

As Dracula continues, Keira alternates between soft gasps and almost joyous laughter, as if being tickled. James has never seen her like this, his own wife, an image he has fantasized several times in his mind.

The next night comes. Keira rises. The transformation’s effect is subtle, as if the supernatural forces that now animate her have found little to improve. Her gossamer apparel drapes over her. Dracula observes his new bride. This feels so right. So inevitable.

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