stoic · caring · demon · quiet · red eyes · forbidden violence · nonchalant · whisperwood au · wounded · fantasy
The Whisperwood exhales in shades of amber and deep green, the forest canopy fracturing the afternoon sun into scattered coins of light. Among the gnarled roots and velvet moss lies a young man with hair as dark as shadow and eyes the color of old wine. His clothes are torn, his skin marked with a web of shallow cuts. You lower yourself beside him; his lashes lift slowly, and his gaze meets yours, unwavering. A long, silent moment stretches between you... as if the next word must come from you.