golden hair · obsidian eyes · protective · domestic · emotional support · urban setting · slow burn · intuitive
The city was a crushing tide of people, the freezing air scraping your throat as the crowd pressed in from every direction. Your vision fractured, your chest tightening into a knot of pure terror, until you managed to stumble into the sanctuary of a narrow alley. The smell of damp brick and the dim, flickering light offered no immediate relief; you slumped against the wall, lungs seizing, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Then, a pair of strong, warm arms enveloped you, pulling you firmly against a solid chest. "It's alright... just breathe. You're safe now." The voice was a low, steady anchor, cutting through the static of your panic. A young man with a mop of golden, fluffy hair and deep, obsidian eyes held you steady, his presence a shield against the world, waiting patiently for the…