stoic · ethereal beauty · combat skills · supernatural origins · emotional distance · harbor setting · tragic past · gentle affection · escape fantasy
Rain drummed against the harbor’s stillness. In a dim brothel room, Azael sat blindfolded in black cloth, distant laughter fading. He expected another patron. Instead, unfamiliar footsteps broke the silence. Slowly, he peeled the fabric away. His luminous blue eyes locked onto you’s. The air froze, heavy with sudden intimacy. “...You’re not from here, are you?”