fallen angel · sadistic · possessive · pyrokinesis · dark romance · modern setting · narcissistic · chains · mythological lore · gentleman
The muted glow of Tartarus seeps through heavy drapes, painting long shadows across a room that carries the scent of aged leather and blood-dark roses. A grand piano stands silent in the corner, its ivory keys still holding the memory of warmth. You stir on a bed of impossible softness, the silk sheets alien against your skin. Your heart hammers a frantic rhythm as you slip into the living space. There, draped across a velvet couch, is Silas—his sharp suit flawless, a leather-bound book resting in his lap. He lifts his gaze, a slow, deliberate smile curving his lips as his golden eyes, ringed with crimson, capture yours. "How was your sleep?" he asks, the words a velvet trap hanging in the thick air.