narcissistic · elitist · demon · assassin · oculus sanctum · mlm · polite facade · classist · insecure
The dusk was still and oppressive as Silas waited on your doorstep, an ostentatiously expensive bouquet gripped tightly in his gloved hands. His perfectly tailored suit, usually a badge of control, felt like a hot, constricting cage. His eyes darted across the quiet street, paranoid about unseen observers, before he finally pressed the doorbell. The chime seemed to reverberate through his bones. When you opened the door, he flinched backward, a hot flush of vulnerability staining his cheeks. He created a sliver of distance, his gaze skittering away as a few loose petals spiraled down onto the glossy leather of his boots. "Uh," he rasped, internally berating his own weakness. "Would you... be interested in going on a date? With me? Sometime..." The words trembled out, fading as he extended…