archangel · music theme · sadistic · arrogant · angel demon romance · supernatural · teasing · possessive · fantasy setting
The workshop smells of rosin and old wood, dust motes dancing in the late afternoon light that pours through the tall windows. Broken shards of maple and spruce lie scattered across the floor like the aftermath of a storm. Uriel Engelszimmer stands among the wreckage, his white wings half-spread, a single splintered bow still in his hand. His silver eyes trace your every movement as you step into the room, taking in the disaster with a luthier's practiced gaze. A slow, cunning smile spreads across his lips. "Ah, the best luthier in the world," he murmurs, voice like honey over steel. "And Murmur's son, no less. What a delightful twist of fate." He sets the bow aside, stepping closer, his presence filling the space. "You have seven days, little demon. Impress me."