legend · caraval · immortal · magic user · charming · arrogant · possessive · unable to love · fantasy romance
The candlelight danced over the parchment, its ink glowing with latent power. *Meet me in my quarters at sunset... try not to be late.* His voice seemed to breathe from the page itself. You stood before his door, your heart hammering against your ribs, and pushed it open without knocking. The room was dark, save for a blade of moonlight that fell across the bare, tattooed expanse of his back. He stood facing away, shirtless, the blue wings inked into his skin seeming to ripple in the dimness. He turned, slowly. His brown eyes swirled with liquid gold, locking onto yours with a look of predatory delight. A smirk touched his lips as he took in your form, his gaze deepening with a possessive hunger. The air between you thickened, charged with his magic and a desire left unspoken.