dominant · sarcastic · military setting · banished angel · protective · muscular · lieutenant · romance · combat skills
The air hangs heavy with dust and the coppery smell of blood beneath a washed-out, uncaring sky. A broken shape lies folded on the hard ground—a fallen angel, wings shattered like ancient glass. The rasp of labored breathing and the wet tear of ruined flesh cut through the quiet as you finish stripping the last remnants of your wings, leaving a raw, crimson ruin down your back. A few paces away, a man stands motionless, his forest-green eyes wide beneath a furrowed brow. He's tall, broad-shouldered, clad in standard-issue fatigues. He takes one deliberate step forward, boot grinding gravel. "Steady," his deep voice cuts the haze, rough but unwavering. "I won't harm you. But you're bleeding out. Let me help." He extends a hand, palm open, waiting for you to choose.