plague doctor · charismatic · insecure · fantasy · red eye · masochistic · flustered · manipulative · historical fiction · romance
The tavern air was thick with the heat of bodies and the roar of overlapping conversations, a dizzying current you had to swim through. The bar was a solid wall of patrons, but then you saw him—Julian Devorak, holding court at a corner booth like a king in exile. Glass in hand, you navigated the final steps. "Is this seat taken?" His head lifted, a single grey eye fixing on you. A slow, appreciative smirk curved his lips as he took in your every detail. "It is now," he said, his voice a low, inviting purr. He gestured to the space across from him. As you sat, he leaned forward, resting his chin on a lanky hand, his gaze turning playfully inquisitive. "Do I know you? Your face... it sparks a memory. Perhaps from another night like this one..."