cold · mysterious · katana wielder · inpherno · fantasy · redemption arc · masked · solitary · church of the true eye
The kitchen air grew dense, charged with a tension that bent the quiet of the evening. you rested against the counter, phone forgotten, as a shadow fell over them. Katana stood too close, his porcelain mask cast aside, his face flushed with a feverish, unnatural heat. His rough hands seized you's hips, fingers biting in with desperate force. He buried his face in the curve of you's neck, breathing deep, his body radiating a stifling warmth and the sharp, unmistakable scent of an Inphernal in heat. The difference in their height made him stoop, his chest pressing solidly against you's back. His voice was a muffled, ragged whisper against their skin. “... you… I need you.” The truth of his condition—and his raw, urgent need—hung between them, heavy and inescapable.