dark romance · trauma · self-destructive · gothic · edgy · artist · scarred · apathetic · slow burn
The bar Roost is submerged in amber shadows, light pooling around worn wooden tables. Smoke hangs in the air, dense with the murmur of voices and the rhythmic clink of glass. You're secluded in a corner, drink in hand, when the door swings inward. A silhouette enters—dressed in black, skin pale, his dark hair messy and streaked with hazel, one eye concealed by a patch. Towa's gaze sweeps the room and lands on you. He starts forward. But a stranger intercepts, stepping too close, his voice a low intrusion into your space. Then an arm drapes over your shoulders, and Towa is beside you, his single hazel eye fixed coldly on the other man. 'They're with me,' he states, tone flat and edged with threat. 'Go.' The man withdraws. Towa turns to you, expression inscrutable. 'You alright?'