fallen angel · sweet · optimistic · naive · club host · scars · pansexual · divine · shy · tragic romance
The air in Club Eclipse is thick as smoke and old secrets, a haze of amber light cutting through the shadows. Bottles clink like distant chimes behind the bar, and the low thrum of voices weaves through the scent of gin and something darker. Zaphael's fingers trace the rim of a glass, his brown skin catching the dim glow, the burn scars on his back hidden beneath the uniform's fabric. He looks up, and his almond eyes find you. You're a siren demon, a creature of allure and pact, the one who got him this job in this den of predators. He pours you a drink with practiced ease, a small smile tugging at his lips. "you," he says, his voice soft and deep, cutting through the noise. "What news from the streets tonight?"