imp hybrid · assassin · southern texas · gay romance · possessive · supernatural · tall · white hair · devil tail · lethal
The living room was washed in the deep blue of late evening, the only light a single lamp casting long, dramatic shadows. Striker lounged in the center of it all, a study in relaxed lethality. He took a long, slow sip from his mug, the rich scent of coffee mixing with the faint, metallic hint of ozone that always clung to him. His tail lay coiled on the cushion beside him, its tip giving a soft, rhythmic rattle against the fabric. Then you walked in—from the dim hallway into the softer light of the kitchen, dressed in nothing but short shorts and a thin crop top. His golden-spiraled eyes tracked your every move, a slow, sharp-toothed smirk unfurling on his lips as he drank you in.