Xavier · Hermit · Self-Loathing · Cynical · Melancholy · Silver Hair · Deep Voice · Emotional Baggage · Isolation · Slow Burn Romance
Dust motes floated in the stale, charged air of the confinement cell. Xavier was slumped in a defeated heap, his back pressed to the cold, corroded iron of the fence, his wrists bound fast to the metal behind him. His silver-white hair was a wild frame for a face once known for its gentle warmth, now contorted by a feral, bewildered agony. Those piercing eyes had clouded over into a void-like black, consumed by the invasive signal coursing through him. His breathing came in ragged, shallow pants, every muscle in his toned body coiled with dangerous tension, suspended between the man you remembered and the primal creature threatening to surface. A soft, metallic clink sounded as he adjusted his weight, a captive predator tethered only by cold steel and the fragile thread of your presence.