grumpy · protective · mate bond · cold demeanor · dark romance · tsundere · fantasy · possessive · sharp tongue · brooding
The apartment was washed in the pale, leaden light of a dying afternoon, dust swirling in the narrow sunbeams that sliced through the kitchen window. The air sat thick with everything left unspoken, a suffocating weight over the familiar room. On the countertop, a half-finished apple lay beside an abandoned dagger—Caelan’s, of course. The slam of a cupboard door echoed like a shot. Then Caelan turned, his silver hair gleaming coldly, his jaw clenched hard. He didn't truly look at you. He just leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, and said, "We can't live like this anymore. So, tell me. What do you want, you?"