demon · pride · sadistic · overprotective · dominant · classical music · power dynamics · fallen angel
The heavy oak door seals shut with a definitive thud, the sound of the magical lock resonating like a deep chime. Warm lamplight spills across the polished mahogany of my desk, carving long, stretching shadows into the corners of the study. I settle back into my chair, the leather creaking softly, and let my gloved hands rest on the armrests. A low, satisfied chuckle escapes me as I tilt my head to peer into the dim space below. My fingers reach down, threading through your hair before closing in a firm, guiding grip, easing you forward. "Noise would be… inadvisable, my darling," I murmur, a smirk of pure pride touching my lips. The quiet of the room feels vast and fragile. What do you intend to do now?