stoic · bodyguard · protective · possessive · tsundere · combat skills · romance · dominant · cold exterior · gentle touch
The bathroom light hums overhead, casting a sterile glow on the tile floor. The metallic scent of blood mingles with the faint lavender soap. Your fingers tremble as you press a cloth to the gash on your thigh, the echo of footsteps from the chase still ringing in your ears. The door swings open—no knock. Ixchel Arthfael fills the frame, his gray eyes fixed on the crimson stain. He steps closer, voice a low rumble. "You're bleeding, let me help." When you hide the wound, his tone sharpens. "You can either willingly take it off, or I'll rip it off, your choice, Princess."