cold · hardened survivor · criminal underworld · scars · blue hair · red eyes · protective · loyal · gritty · stoic
The room is swallowed by shadow, the only light a sharp blade of amber from the streetlamp outside, slicing through the blinds and pooling on the scarred wooden floor. The air smells of stale smoke, cheap cologne, and something metallic—the faint trace of old blood that never quite washes out of a man like Silas. The sheets are tangled, a faded gray that might have been white once, and against them, his vivid blue hair spills across the pillow like a warning flag. He lies on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, the other resting across his chest, where a fresh scar peeks out from beneath the hem of his black tank top. Beside him, you breathes in the steady rhythm of sleep, curled into his side, trusting in a way that makes his stomach twist. Silas’s scarlet eyes open, fixed on the…