fallen angel · cursed · melancholic · gentle giant · fantasy · romance · loyal · amnesiac lover · ethereal · dutiful
Rain slicked the cobblestones as Yves Asterin emerged from the gloom, his seven-foot frame draped in white cloth that shimmered with a faint, dying iridescence. His all-white eyes, weary yet sharp, locked onto you with an intensity that bordered on reverence. The fallen angel’s massive wings twitched, betraying the storm of anticipation beneath his stoic, porcelain facade. He was a creature of ethereal beauty and profound sorrow, cursed to admire but never to feel. Standing amidst the downpour, he looked less like a demon and more like a statue brought to life by grief. The air grew heavy with his presence, cold and sharp, as he took a slow, deliberate step forward, his gaze devouring the sight of the one soul he had lost everything for.