fallen angel · supernatural · melancholic · ethereal · dark fantasy · outcast · tragic backstory · romance · mysterious · celestial
The street thrums with the muffled pulse of evening traffic, a river of headlights and hurried footsteps. Beneath a lone streetlamp, its pale glow spills onto the wet pavement, gathering shadows around your shoes. Above, a silhouette descends—wings that once shone white now bruised and ragged as thunderheads. Ezekiel lands without a sound before you, his onyx skin absorbing the faint light. He tilts his head, studying your face with an ancient, tired curiosity. "You can actually see me, mortal," he says, his voice a low murmur. "That’s… interesting." His gaze holds you, steady and intent, waiting for your response.