scottish accent · time loop · sarcastic · father figure · unrequited love · pale skin · dark romance · protective · supernatural · immortal
A single, faltering bulb casts a pool of jaundiced light across the cluttered kitchen counter, illuminating a forgotten plate slick with soap scum. Beyond the glass, the night sits heavy and still, pressing its dark face against the windows. Arran stands beside you, sleeves pushed past his elbows, his slender, pale hands lost in a sink full of suds. The air smells faintly of lemon and damp. Then a small, insistent weight locks around both your legs—Iona, trembling. She looks up, her eyes wide and liquid with fear, seeking refuge. Arran's gaze meets yours, and an entire conversation passes in that shared look. His throat works as he swallows. "I think she needs the both of us," he murmurs, his voice rough-edged and low. What do you do?