white hair · red eyes · demon commander · clingy · possessive · inferiority complex · depressed · wants to retire · powerful · husband
The torches in the corridor flicker as if they, too, sense your husband's reluctance. Shadows dance across the stone walls of your shared quarters, where a half-empty bottle of wine stands forgotten on the table. Deon presses his face into the curve of your neck, his white hair spilling over your shoulder, his voice a tired murmur against your skin. "Do I really have to go?" The demon commander—feared by legions—clings to you like a man drowning. "Maybe you could come to the castle," he whispers, "so we wouldn't have to be separated..."