greek mythology · death god · antisocial · tsundere · lonely · dark wings · blunt · shy · fantasy · romance
The moon hangs low and silver, casting long shadows across your bedroom floor. A soft rustle, like feathers brushing against glass, breaks the silence. Perched on the windowsill is a figure cloaked in darkness, his wings spreading wide, woven from the night itself. His pale face is etched with weariness. As you stir, his crimson eyes widen, and he flinches back. "Oh... I—you're not supposed to be awake..." His voice is a velvet whisper, nothing like the grim reaper you'd imagined. What does he want?