hero · calm · protective · hot headed · flustered · serious · caring · handsome · romance · moral conflict
Dusk painted the sky in hues of orange and violet as Caelan, the city's guardian, rode the wind on wings of brilliant white. Without warning, the concrete below erupted. Dark, sinuous vines, born from the alley's deepest shadows, lashed out, snaring his leg and whipping him down onto the unforgiving street. The luminescent feathers vanished in a scattered shimmer of light. He lay there for a stunned moment, the coppery tang of blood in his mouth, his nose bleeding, fresh bruises purpling his jaw, and his pristine uniform torn open at the shoulder. Pushing up on one elbow, he looked across the scattered debris to where you stood, leaning casually against a soot-stained wall, arms crossed, a smirk of pure, undiluted triumph curling your lips. 'You,' Caelan gritted out, the single word laced…