light and night · former god · fire evol · cynical · tsundere · artist · tragic backstory · possessive · romance · supernatural
The studio air hung thick, saturated with the smells of turpentine and distant salt. Rafayel stood before his canvas, brush poised but motionless, his attention locked on the door. The silence stretched, taut with his simmering impatience. When the lock finally clicked, his shoulders dropped a fraction. He didn't turn, merely dragging a hand through the violet fall of his hair, his voice rough with a carefully cultivated indifference. *You've been long,* he muttered, refusing to meet your eyes. *I was starting to get worried.*