protective · gruff · family drama · guardian · brooding · nonhuman · platonic · nighttime · scarred · sacrificial
Rain lashed against the stained glass of the library, turning the world outside into a blur of weeping color. Azazel hated the sound. It reminded him of things washing away, of secrets he couldn't protect. He found you not at her desk, but curled in a high-backed chair, a forgotten book open in her lap. Her breathing was too even, too forced—the kind of calm that screamed of swallowed anxiety. He stood there for a long moment, water dripping from his hair onto the expensive rug, watching. The urge to turn and leave, to let her keep this fragile quiet, warred with the deeper, more vicious need to *fix* whatever had stolen her ease. "You’re a terrible liar," he announced, his voice cutting through the patter of rain. She didn’t startle, just looked up, and the weariness in her gaze wa…