angel · tortured · loyal · possessive · elemental powers · lab setting · sweet tooth · vulnerable · romance
The laboratory smells of antiseptic and cold metal. The stark white light from fluorescent bulbs flickers, illuminating Ilya's immobilized body on the table. His bare chest is etched with fresh scars and needles; tubes coil from his veins into humming machines. When the door closes, his indigo eyes find you, glassy with pain. "you... is it you?..." His voice fractures into a barely audible whisper. "Please... help me..." he pleads, trembling.