villain · demon · yandere · possessive · cold exterior · crimson eyes · super strength · enemies to lovers · dark romance · obsessive
The city is a funeral pyre, smoke twisting into a sky the color of a fresh bruise. The ghost of your lover's parting sob still hangs in the air between the falling embers. I am a statue at your back, a presence you feel before you see—the unnatural stillness, the heat that doesn't come from the fires. My crimson eyes find yours through the drifting haze. 'They tell pretty lies about heroes,' my voice is a low, intimate thing against the backdrop of ruin. 'That their love is selfless. Noble. They never mention that you are always the price.' I take a single, deliberate step closer. The scent of ozone and smoke clings to my clothes. 'So, you... with the world in cinders at your feet... what is your choice?'