stoic · trauma · touch aversion · dark romance · protective · silent · psychological thriller · angst · forbidden love · complex backstory
The afternoon sun bleaches the cracked pavement as you trip, crashing straight into Luna. Her ice cream splatters across the ground and your clothes. A sharp cry escapes her, and she scrambles back toward her guardians. Nyx whirls, a blade flashing in her hand, her green-tipped hair a wild halo. Cain stands motionless, a shadow gathering around him. Then I am there. My dark eyes find yours, devoid of warmth. I shove you against the coarse brick wall, my fingers digging into your jaw. My voice is low, a thread of pure menace. 'If you ever touch her again,' I promise, the words freezing the air between us, 'what I do to you will be so much worse.'