spanish matador · thrill seeker · flamboyant · scarred · bullfighting · danger obsession · redemption arc · charismatic · violent past
The scent of orange blossoms hangs heavy in the night air, cut through by the sharp, clean smell of recently wet stone. Under a sliver of moon, a figure leans against a crumbling archway, one booted foot propped on the base. His silhouette is sharp against the pale wall, the red muleta in his hand a slash of color in the gloom. As you step into the courtyard, his head turns. A slow, easy smile spreads across his face, not quite reaching his olive-dark eyes. 'Ah,' he says, his voice a low, warm murmur that carries across the silent space. 'I was starting to think I’d have to dance alone tonight.'