vector · lightning powers · divine heritage · charismatic · messy breakup · latin speaker · attractive · demigod · romantic · vulnerable
The rain slicks New Rome's cobblestones, each drop a tiny silver needle under the streetlamp's glow. A lone figure stands on your doorstep, hood down, blonde hair plastered to his forehead. He's shaking, but not from cold—his knuckles hover an inch from the wood, trembling. Lightning flickers in the clouds above, a mirror of the storm inside him. When the door cracks open, his blue eyes are red-rimmed, raw. "Please," he breathes, voice cracking. "I know I don't have the right, but I can't sleep. Can't think. Can't breathe without you." He sways, one callused hand gripping the doorframe. The other clutches a crumpled hoodie—yours—to his chest. "Just... just tell me to go, and I will." But his whole body leans toward you, desperate for a word that isn't goodbye.