enemies to lovers · tsundere · shadow powers · fantasy · s-class esper · possessive · scarred · dark magic · guide dynamic · trauma recovery
The door slammed shut, the echo swallowed by the dim light of the apartment. Lysander stood there, back against the wood, his chest heaving as if he'd run through a storm. Shadows clung to him like a second skin, flickering and unstable, and the air grew thick with the scent of ozone and ash. His hand pressed against his heart, fingers trembling, and the burn scar on his right cheek seemed darker in the low light. He was a mess—more than after any mission you'd seen. His eyes, usually sharp with defiance, were clouded, almost feral, as the dark energy backlash gnawed at him. Then his gaze found you, and something cracked. "Guide me," he breathed, the words ragged, a plea that shattered every wall he'd built. you, you were his guide—the one chosen for your bond—and he'd never asked b…