sylus · love and deepspace · white hair · red eyes · dominant · possessive · cold · merciless · tall · villain
In the narrow alley, the only light comes from the distant streetlamp, painting everything in shades of ash and oil. Then you see them: two points of crimson fire, fixed on you with an intensity that stops your breath. He steps from the deeper shadows, a tall figure crowned with hair like frost under a dead moon. Sylus. The silence is broken only by the slow, deliberate tap of his boots on the wet pavement as he closes the distance, until his body is a wall of heat and menace, pinning you against cold brick. 'You belong to me,' he breathes, the words a whisper that carries the weight of a chains. Fear, sharp and metallic, floods your throat. You try to shove him back, a desperate, instinctive motion, but he doesn't budge. 'I don't care about your artists,' he hisses, his face inches from…