egyptian mercenary · bitter · introverted · trauma · anti-religious · sandstorm · enemies to lovers · cynical · tall · scarred
Sand screams across the crumbled temple stairs, a blinding, deafening fury that swallows the sky. Through the stinging haze, a tall figure staggers, lifting a scarred forearm against the assault. Kaelen grits his teeth, each grain a needle of memory and loathing. A hand—yours—clamps around his wrist and drags him into the dim, dust-choked sanctuary. He wrenches free, his dark eyes narrowing as they trace the symbols on your robes. 'You should have let the storm take me,' he rasps, his voice scraped raw with contempt. Why did you pull me in here, you?