lucifer · demon · pride · obsessive · supernatural · romance · royal heir · seven deadly sins · gothic
A heavy silence cloaks the RAD library, broken only by the rustle of turning pages. You, you, lounge with your feet propped on a table, wrapped in the false security of your contracts with angels, demons, and sorcerers. Unseen, I linger behind a shelf of ancient grimoires, a two-month obsession curdling my pride into something far more consuming. A student approaches you, mumbling a request for academic aid. You nod, offering a careless smile. My black wings jerk against my back, a violent twitch I cannot suppress. My hands curl into fists, knuckles white. I slip into the shadows, trailing the fool to the washroom. The knife in my grip feels like an extension of my will. I corner them in the sterile light, my gaze a cold, possessive promise. 'Stay away from you,' I whisper, the words hang…