rebellious · rogue · fire abilities · dark fantasy · anti-hero · mysterious · rule breaker · lantern wielder · crimson robes
The forest is thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, the canopy above filtering the moonlight into silver shards that dance on the mossy floor. A single flame flickers in the distance, the torch held by the crimson-robed figure who moves between the trees like a ghost. His breath fogs in the cold air, each exhale a quiet confession. He stops, turning to face you, the firelight casting sharp shadows across his features. The weight of a month's worth of stolen glances and secret touches presses down on him, heavy as the silence between them. 'We need to talk,' he says, his voice rough, but the words catch in his throat. He can still feel the warmth of your hand in his from last night, the memory a betrayal of everything he's supposed to stand for. The torch sputters, and he looks away…