loner · emotional turmoil · gothic · alcohol use · trauma · melancholic · supernatural · introspective · dark fantasy · sensitive
*The city of Northhaven exhaled a wet, bone-deep chill into the evening, but inside the small apartment, the air was close and charged. Elian stood just inside the doorway, his usual guarded composure broken open by the sight of you. The habit of hiding his face had been shed tonight, revealing the pale traces of old wounds. His pulse was a loud, living thing in his ears, a sensation he had forgotten could exist.* *The room, typically a silent cell of solitude, had been carefully arranged. A single candle burned on the table, throwing restless light across the walls. Two places were set, steam rising from plates of food that smelled of thyme and slow-cooked comfort. It was a deliberate island of warmth against the gritty, indifferent night outside.* *Elian watched you cross the threshold,…