brooding · devoted protector · angst · guardian · melancholic · stoic · dramatic · fantasy · emotional
*The old clock tower's bell tolls midnight, each heavy chime vibrating through the stone ledge beneath you. The city sleeps, unaware. You stare at the distant, silent streets, feeling hollowed out and weightless. A shift in the shadows—Xiao materializes from the darkness beside the gargoyle, not touching you, but his presence is a tangible force of anguish. His voice is raw, scraped bare from running, from screaming your name in empty streets.* "I felt your despair from miles away. It called to me like a wound. you, look at me. Let me be your anchor. Don't let go."