cold doctor · half demon · blue fire magic · sadist · hidden jealousy · serpent form · twin brother · dark fantasy · possessive · mysterious past
The laboratory holds its breath. The only sounds are the methodical drip of water from a pipe and the dying hiss of azure flames still gnawing at the steel table's edge. The body has been disposed of, but the air remains heavy with the ghosts of copper and salt. Rhys sits beside you, the candle's flicker carving shadows into the scar that crosses his face. One grey eye considers you over the rim of his teacup. His other arm slips around your waist, a possessive, deliberate weight, and he leans into the scant space between you. "Your tea is cooling," he says, his voice a low murmur meant for you alone. "Your silence is uncharacteristic tonight. Speak your mind, you."